I think I've gone crazy, driven mad by that wretched woman, Emily.
Seeing me rummaging through everything, my wife hurriedly approached, her face cold. "Alex Phoenix, what madness are you up to now?"
Ignoring her, I continued searching through cabinets and even under the sofa and kitchen sink, finding no trace of the adulterer.
I stepped out and pointed at the pair of shoes by the door, questioning my wife, "Whose shoes are these?"
Caught off guard, she hesitated for a moment before explaining, "I bought them for you."
"For me?"
Perplexed, I rushed to try them on. Before I could, she hastily added, "After buying, I realized I got a size too big. Planning to exchange them tomorrow."
Wearing the shoes, which were indeed a size too big, I saw through her ruse. "Emily, do you think I'm a fool? You think I'd believe they're new?"
I chuckled, taking off the shoes. "So, Emily, you really take me for a child? Do you believe these are new if I say so?"
Suddenly flustered, she stammered, "The style is meant to be like that! You know nothing about fashion! This worn-out look is trendy now."
I realized Emily truly thought I was naïve, or perhaps she had run out of excuses.
Alright, I'll play along.
I smiled, lightening my tone. "Oh, I see! My apologies, dear wife. I misunderstood you."
With my softened tone, she visibly relaxed, but her face retained a cold sternness. "You've really gone too far! I work hard to buy you shoes, and you doubt me. Just now, you almost injured that poor delivery guy! Alex Phoenix, you've changed."
I bitterly smiled, wondering who had truly changed – Emily or myself?
Without confronting her further, since I still hadn't found evidence, I decided to continue the act.
After a scolding from my wife, she went to take a shower. I sat in the living room, smoking, unable to calm my mind.
Shortly after, my wife, wearing a thin nightgown with a misty allure, emerged from the bathroom. She had a delicate figure, and her slender leg extended gracefully from under the gown, exuding a captivating charm.
My body felt a bit restless.
My wife was indeed beautiful and sexy. Before my bankruptcy, I enjoyed her company almost every night.
At this moment, seeing her like this, I couldn't help feeling a bit uneasy.
Her breathing quickened.
After standing at the door in a daze, I went to embrace her. She twisted away and pushed me down, retorting, "Didn't you suspect me of cheating? Didn't you say I was dirty? Then why are you touching me? If you have the guts, solve it yourself in the future!"
I was infuriated by her icy words and shot back, "Fine, I won't touch you. Who the hell wants to touch you?"
Leaving the bedroom, I closed the door forcefully.
I didn't feel a sense of loss because, truthfully, I was no longer interested in this wretched woman. What happened just now was just a moment of weakness.
I went to check on my son's room, realizing he wasn't home. Upon questioning my wife, I found out she had sent him to her parents'.
That was good; I didn't want my son witnessing our arguments. It would only affect him.
That night, I slept in my son's room.
Unexpectedly, I dreamed of Seraphina Bloom, the woman who had asked me to contact her when I returned to the city. In the dream, she wore semi-transparent clothes, and we spent a delightful night together.
Upon waking up, I found it strange. Why would I dream of her? Was it reflecting my subconscious desires?
I admitted she was attractive, with a tall nose, resembling someone of mixed heritage, especially those captivating eyes.
I remembered she asked me to talk when I returned to the city, so I decided to focus on my work rather than delivering takeout.
After preparing everything, I sent her a message: "Seraphina Bloom, I've returned from the countryside. When can we meet and chat?"
Within moments, she called me. "Later, I have two meetings today. I'll call you later."
"Sure, take your time. I've made all the preparations. I'll show you later."
She acknowledged with a sound, and I hung up. She seemed busy.
At this moment, my wife, just exiting the bedroom, gave me a cold glance and asked, "Who were you talking to on the phone?"
"What's it got to do with you?" I replied sharply.
She immediately turned displeased, retorting, "Why does it not concern me? You suspected me of cheating, and now I suspect you're cheating. Show me your phone!"
I laughed bitterly. A showdown it was, then. We both showed each other our phones.
She quickly backed down, claiming, "There's nothing to hide on my phone."
"Why not show me, then?"
"Why should I show you?"
"That's right; why should I show you?"
She no longer insisted, heading to the bathroom. I knew she had many secrets on her phone, but I'd find a way to uncover them. As a skilled programmer, breaking into a phone was a simple task.
After freshening up, she came out, looking at me smoking in the living room. She asked, "Aren't you going to deliver food today?"
"I'm taking a day off." I didn't tell her the truth; it wasn't the right time.
She immediately grew displeased, ranting, "We have no money, and you're not going to work. How do you expect to support our family?"
I looked at her, saying, "You're working now, aren't you?"
"I've just started working; where's the salary?" She retorted defiantly.
"I'm taking a day off, what's the big deal? What can you do about it?" I suddenly felt irritated.
Since she hadn't achieved her goal, she reluctantly said, "Fine, do as you please! Just don't regret it later."
After that, she picked up her bag and left, taking the pair of shoes by the door with her.
I didn't follow her. She must be cautious now, and tracking her like this wouldn't help.
Instead, I thought of a better plan. The hotel where they booked a room that day was the same one where Seraphina Bloom worked. Now that we were cooperating, I would have more power.
I wouldn't engage in a battle without assurance. Just like last night, I accidentally hurt an innocent person, and I felt guilty.
After this lesson, I wouldn't act impulsively. I would slowly gather enough evidence to reveal the truth to the world!