Chapter 3

My overseas assignment had been successfully completed, but the editor-in-chief suddenly approached me angrily. My colleagues exchanged worried glances.

"Jack, you actually want to be a war correspondent? You did an excellent job on this assignment. Once the article is published you're due for a promotion and raise. You're my most talented reporter with a bright future ahead. I really don't understand why you're doing this."

"Give me one good reason."

I smiled bitterly. "Because I don't want to stay in Shanghai anymore."

After a night of drinking and smoking, my voice was terribly hoarse. The editor frowned hearing it.

"Why have you done this to yourself?"

"Boss, please just do me this one favor." I looked up at him, my eyes bloodshot.

I took some time off. As soon as I left the office, I saw a familiar Maserati parked nearby.

Tara strode over, her brow furrowed with irritation.

"Jack, what happened? Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

"Do you know I've been looking for you all night?"

I spread my hands. "I only brought my work phone. The one at home got broken by accident."

My voice was nasal and hoarse. Tara noticed immediately.

"You're sick and didn't tell me? Haven't you been taking care of yourself these past few days at home?"

Seeing her concerned expression, I felt even more bitter inside.

In the past, I definitely would have played up being pitiful, just to see how much she cared.

But now, remembering the scene of her passionately kissing Henry, I just felt nauseated.

Tara drove me home, took my temperature, and sure enough I had a high fever.

After taking medicine, I lay in bed. Tara slipped under the covers, her soft, supple body pressed tightly against me. But I didn't have any other thoughts.

"Jack, are you mad at me? Why won't you talk to me?"

"Are you upset I was gone too long this time?"

Tara made to kiss me, but I dodged.

"I'm still sick."

Her gaze fell on the nightstand.

"Why did you take off that diamond brooch? Wasn't it your favorite?"

Yes, I used to love that brooch because Tara gave it to me. It was supposed to be one-of-a-kind.

Now I knew even this handmade brooch had an identical twin, worn by her real husband.

How laughable.

"I put it away."

My attitude was cold. Tara lost interest and got up to leave.

Tara received several strange calls that she angrily hung up on. When I asked who it was, she just said they were spam calls.

I gave a soft "oh" and didn't press further, because I knew it was her lawful husband Henry calling.