Chapter 4

I washed up, heavy-hearted, and put on the bathrobe.

In the mirror, I saw lipstick on the collar. Bright. Fresh.

I practiced my expression before going out, forcing myself not to throw the robe away.

He came to my house, slept with my woman, and wore my clothes.

He knew how to use my things. This affair hadn't started yesterday.

I'd been too stupid to see it until the smart home app started exposing everything.

When I came out, Victoria handed me warm milk. "This will help you sleep. You worked hard today."

I forced a tired smile and hugged her. "Sorry, Victoria. I'm so exhausted I got paranoid and accused you. I'm not feeling well—I'll probably wake up several times tonight. I'll sleep in the guest room."

She helped me lie down, then went to the guest room without asking questions.

I lay there with the bedside lamp on, staring at the ceiling. I didn't sleep all night.

In the morning, I looked at the bright bathroom lights and thought of a solution.

I went out and searched everywhere, finally buying a harmless fluorescent agent. I poured it into the body wash and aromatherapy oil.

Next time he bathed, he'd get it on his skin. It couldn't be washed off without a special solution. Then I'd see where he could hide.

To avoid suspicion, I waited until my usual 8 PM to go home.

When the system pinged that bath mode was activated, I immediately called Victoria and said I wanted her home-cooked food.

She glanced at the bathroom, her smile strained.

"How about after work? If I make it now and bring it over, it'll be cold by the time it gets to you."

I sighed and was about to stall further when a man's scream came through the line.

"Ah—it hurts! Victoria, help me!"

I paused, pretending not to understand. "Was that a man? You watching TV?"

She nodded quickly, her eyes darting. "The company is having an online meeting. I have to go."

I watched her hang up and smiled.

This time I'd bring both sets of parents and catch her in the act. Let's see her talk her way out of this.

I led everyone into the bedroom.

The bathroom light was on. Music played from a phone. Victoria's parents held me back.

"Dylan—don't open the door. Call her out first. Give us some face. When she comes out, hit her, punish her—we won't stop you."

I hesitated. But seeing their earnest faces, I nodded.

We called her name. No response.

Finally, her father steeled himself and pulled open the bathroom door.

Everyone gasped.

The light was on. But there was no one inside.

Just a phone playing music.