Carolyn, how far have you gone with him actually?
I sat in the study, his voice echoing in my mind. I recalled accompanying Carolyn to the distillery but never seeing a man surnamed Billie.
In the end, I messaged my childhood friend and ordered him. [Help me check if Rollins Winery still has Carolyn’s name on it.]
I suppressed the fear in my heart, my hands trembling as I typed. [I need all of Carolyn’s financial transactions and recent itinerary.]
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to cry, staying rational. [Carolyn might be having an affair.]
I just clicked send when Carolyn’s voice came from behind me. “Hubby.”
Carolyn walked up to me; her face flushed with guilt.
“There's an urgent issue with a project at work," she said, looking at me with a troubled expression. “I promised to stay with you, but I can't resolve it here. I have no choice but to go."
She hugged me apologetically.
“I'll come back as soon as I finish," she said, holding her phone, which was lit up.
I saw the chat window was still active, but I finally gripped her hand tightly and asked, “Can't you just not go?"
At any other time, Carolyn would have sensed the emotion in my voice, seen the vulnerability in my eyes and noticed it.
But she didn't. She was focused on leaving and on WhatsApp, patiently explaining, “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”
Her tone grew anxious, “Hubby, you're usually so understanding. So please, don't make this hard for me."
I felt like a deflated balloon, sitting there motionless as Carolyn hurriedly left without even saying goodbye.
Tears finally fell from my eyes and I silently wept. I had finally realised that all cats steal fish.
My childhood friend called me and said, “Rollins has a project that Carolyn actively secured funding for and launched. There's something fishy about this."
My childhood friend sent me the documents.
“Everyone at Rollins is saying that Carolyn spent a fortune to promote someone and no one dares to joke about that guy anymore."
My childhood friend’s voice turned cold as he continued, “I heard Rollins is planning a celebratory banquet at the Red Hotel.”
I immediately asked, “Carolyn isn't going, is he?"
But my last shred of hope was completely shattered.
I looked at the dinner that my wife had prepared and laid out on the table: the peeled shrimp, my favourite soup and the roses placed beside them.
Suddenly, I remembered what she had said, 'Hubby! Did you forget? Today is actually our wedding anniversary!”
On our wedding anniversary, Carolyn chose someone else, leaving me alone.
I had told her I didn't want her to go and that I wanted to stay with her, but she still left me.
She still went to see the person she cared about more.
“I'm going to the Red Hotel," I told my childhood friend. “Even if the marriage has come to an end, I want to know what kind of person I lost to."
When I saw the boy sitting next to Carolyn, playfully calling her “Carol,” he seemed so ordinary that I wouldn't have remembered him if I had seen him on the street.
He had no style, dressed plainly and his haircut was careless, too.
He was hugging her arm and laughing. “Carol, they’re trying to get me drunk.”
The boy, spoiled by his parents' favor, pointed at the bosses sitting at the table.
“I told them my Carol is a queen who will protect me, but they didn't believe me. They insisted you come and talk to them yourself."
In the private room, those people laughed and flattered him, “No wonder Billie has such good taste. He either doesn't pick or picks someone as valuable as this."
