Chapter 1

My wife, Emma, suddenly texted to say she was going home and wanted me to drive her to the airport.

I had just gotten ready to leave when she sent another message: Honey, don’t come anymore. I read the time wrong. I’m already on the plane.

I replied that I understood and reminded her to text me when she landed.

When I returned to the office, my assistant forwarded me a post my wife had uploaded five days earlier.

The caption read: My husband always finishes too fast. I’m never satisfied. What should I do?

There were hundreds of replies beneath it. Emma had been flirting with a foreign man in the comments, and the two of them had arranged to meet today.

Burning with rage, I forwarded the post to Emma and demanded to know whether she had gone to meet him.

She mocked me for being immature and said I had no idea how hard it was for a foreigner alone in another country.

I quietly ended the call and sent her the divorce papers.

When I returned home during the holiday, Emma had already rushed back from her foreign boyfriend’s place.

She carried a tray of food out of the kitchen. The moment she saw me, she stopped.

“You always wait until the last second to come home. Would the company collapse if you were gone for one minute?”

I said nothing. I calmly set my briefcase on the couch, rolled up my sleeves, and prepared to help in the kitchen.

When Emma saw that I was ignoring her, she impatiently grabbed my wrist.

“I’m talking to you. Can you stop acting like a dead man and at least give me a reaction?”

I frowned.

She had just come from another man’s home. On New Year’s, the fact that I could still come home and sit down to eat with her calmly was already the limit of my patience.

What kind of reaction did she expect from me?

“Stop pulling me around.”

The moment I said that, Emma’s expression changed. Her face grew solemn.

“Ethan, what exactly do you mean? I came back, didn’t I?”

“I already told you he’s a foreigner. He’s all alone here. I only wanted to spend some time with him before the new year. Did you really have to get this angry?”

I pulled my hand free and turned toward the kitchen.

“Ethan, when did you become so petty?”

“I explained everything. I was planning to come home. I just stopped by to see him on the way. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?”

“As soon as you called, I came straight home. I just didn’t want you to misunderstand.”

“We’ve been married for five years. Why are you fighting with a complete stranger?”

A complete stranger?

Five days earlier, Emma had posted on a social media app.

The title read: My husband always finishes too fast. I’m never satisfied. What should I do?

The post had attracted countless viewers.

She was the one who begged me to stop every time, yet now she had placed all the blame on me.

She had even complained extensively to the man in the comments. That was where she and the foreigner had met. After chatting for several days, they decided to meet in person.

The last thing he had written to her was especially shameless:

Your husband clearly can’t satisfy you. Try the kind of experience we have overseas.

That was how Emma had lied to me and gone to meet him.

After I found out, she had even turned around and blamed me for being immature.

I looked at her calmly. There was no emotion in my eyes.

“It’s New Year’s. I don’t want to fight with you and make all your dirty business public.”

Emma stared at me in disbelief.

In the past, whenever I saw her getting too close to some younger guy at the company, I would get jealous and ask her to keep her distance.

Emma had always enjoyed flirting with younger men for the thrill of it.

So every time she saw me get angry, she would promise that she would never do it again.

This time, when I neither argued nor made a scene, she froze instead.

Then she suddenly grabbed my hand and guided it lower.

“Don’t be angry. That post was just a joke.”

“Why don’t we have a proper try tonight?”

When Emma said that, her beautiful eyes filled with anticipation, waiting for my reaction.

She had always believed that as long as she used this kind of flirtation whenever I was angry, I would forgive her.

That was why she kept crossing my boundaries again and again without ever truly regretting anything.

Now she was using the same trick over a foreign man she had only met a few times.

Judging from her behavior, that supposedly impressive foreigner hadn’t satisfied her either.

Emma’s actions instantly ruined my appetite. I picked up my briefcase and prepared to leave.

She watched me and stiffened.

“Ethan, it’s New Year’s. Where are you going? You’re not planning to leave us behind, are you?”

“I just remembered there’s still some work at the office that needs to be handled.”

Emma rushed over and grabbed my hand.

“Didn’t you just finish dealing with it? Do you really not want to see me that badly?”

“Fine. You’re going to the office, right? I’ll go with you. I’ll spend New Year’s there with you.”

“No need.”

Emma didn’t listen. She snatched the car keys from my hand and walked outside.

“I’ll stay with you no matter what you want to do today.”

After we got married, Emma quit her job and started living as a housewife. She hadn’t gone to the office even once since then.

I still remembered one time when my stomach problems had flared up and I asked her to bring me some medicine at work.

She had been shopping with her friends and told me not to bother her. She said I should handle it myself.

This was the first time since our marriage that she had voluntarily offered to accompany me to the office.