Chapter 4

"Mrs. Osman, we haven't seen you in a while!"

The supermarket cashier greeted me warmly. She knew me because during our first month of marriage, I came here almost every day to buy groceries.

But then I stopped coming. Leo said he had too many business dinners and came home too late, so I shouldn't waste time cooking.

I smiled and pushed my cart forward.

My phone rang. It was Harper.

"Liz, is that colleague of your husband's named Sammy?"

My hand on the shopping cart froze.

"How do you know?"

"My husband’s Instagram. He and Leo have a mutual friend."

"A photo was posted yesterday from some business gala. Leo was standing next to this young girl, and she was holding his suit jacket."

"The caption said: Mr. Osman is so thoughtful. Sammy caught a cold, so he lent her his jacket."

I stood in front of the frozen food aisle, the cold air blasting onto my face.

"Screenshot it and send it to me."

Three seconds later, the picture popped up.

In the photo, Leo was in his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The girl next to him was clutching his dark gray suit jacket.

Her head was tilted slightly, a shy smile on her face.

She was very young, with a round face and bangs. She looked barely twenty-two.

The way she held his jacket made it look like the most precious thing in the world.

Harper waited a few seconds. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Liz, let me tell you, this whole thing—"

"I know."

I hung up and saved the screenshot to my hidden album.

Then I sent Leo a text: It's getting cold tonight. Did you bring your jacket?

He replied instantly: Yeah, I have it. Bundle up yourself.

I didn’t reply.

He said he had it, but his jacket was in someone else's hands.

He came home around nine-thirty, carrying a bakery box.

"I passed by that bakery you like. I remember you saying their cheesecake is great."

I opened the box and cut a slice for him.

"How was the business gala today?"

His fork paused halfway to his mouth.

"What gala?"

"Your colleague posted on Instagram."

Silence fell over the room.

He set his fork down and looked at me.

"Are you keeping tabs on me now?"

When he said that, his eyes turned cold.

It wasn't guilt. It was annoyance.

"I'm not. Harper saw it," I said, my voice incredibly flat.

"Did you lend your jacket out? You told me you had it with you when it got cold."

"It's just a jacket, Liz. She was sick. You don't need to go this far—"

"Go this far to do what?"

He didn't answer.

I looked down and took a bite of the cheesecake. It was sweet, too sweet. It actually made me feel a bit sick.

"Leo, when did you start thinking that me asking a simple question is 'going too far'?"

He rubbed his temples.

"Liz, I don't want to fight."

"Neither do I." I put the cake down.

"So just answer me one question—the day you got your car washed last week, who sat in the passenger seat?"

His face stiffened.

It was only for a second, then he recovered his composure.

"Nobody. I told you, the detailers—"

"I adjusted my seat back to my height. Before I left the house today, I checked it again. It was lowered. You didn't get your car washed today."

The living room fell into a dead silence for five full seconds.

Leo stood up abruptly, tossing his fork onto the plate with a loud clatter.

"What are you trying to do, Liz? Watching every little detail like a hawk. Is this fun for you?"

"No, it's not."

I stood up too and closed the bakery box.

"It's not fun at all."

His lips trembled, but he said nothing. He turned and walked into the guest room, slamming the door.

The sound wasn't deafening, but it was clear.

I stood alone in the living room, looking down at the cake box.

Cheesecake.

The bakery I told him I liked had relocated two weeks ago.

This cake wasn't from there.

He had either forgotten, or he never bothered to care in the first place.