Chapter 1

"Naomi! Do you even think of me as your husband?"

I dug at my ear, moved the phone a little farther away, and spoke in a light, breezy tone.

"What's all the yelling about? It's just a trip to the Highlands. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? You're going to Weibro alone with another man? Naomi, have you lost your mind?"

His voice trembled slightly with anger.

I scoffed, completely out of patience.

"Neil, I'm not asking your permission, I'm telling you. The tickets are booked. We leave tonight."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Watch me."

And with that, I didn't give him another chance to roar.

Hang up, block, power off.

One smooth, seamless motion.

The world went quiet in an instant.

I tossed the phone onto the sofa, looked at the suitcase already packed beside me, and a smug smile curved my lips.

Won't let me go?

I'll go anyway.

There's nothing in this world that I, Naomi Fox, want to do and can't.

Neil and I had been married five years, and everyone said I'd married a good husband.

He was gentle-tempered, patient, and gave in to me on almost everything.

When I didn't feel like cooking, he'd finish a grueling day of work, put on an apron, slip into the kitchen, and make me a home-cooked dinner of several dishes and a soup.

When I wanted crawfish from that place on the west side of town in the middle of the night, he'd say nothing and drive forty minutes across town to get it.

I blew through my paycheck every month, but he'd handed over his debit card to me long ago, with my birthday as the PIN.

He took care of ninety percent of the housework.

My mom always said I must have built up good karma in a past life to have found a man as good as Neil.

I'd nod along, but privately I didn't buy it.

Wasn't it only natural for him to be good to me?

A man earns the money, supports the household, and dotes on his wife. That's just how it should be.

All I had to do was be beautiful.

And precisely because he was so good to me, so without limits, I only grew bolder and more reckless.

My male best friend, Ernest, was the first thing that set off our conflict.

Ernest was my college classmate, and we'd always been close, close enough to share one cup of bubble tea and eat from one bowl.

At first Neil went along with it and was very polite to Ernest.

Until one time, at a company team-building event, I drank too much, and it was Ernest who took me home.

When Neil got back from working late, he found Ernest sitting on the edge of our bed in the bedroom, wiping my face with a towel.

Neil's face darkened on the spot.

He said nothing, just politely and coolly saw Ernest to the door.

After the door shut, he turned a cold face on me for the first time.

"Naomi, keep your distance from Ernest from now on."

I still wasn't fully sober, and with the liquor in me I blew up.

"What's that supposed to mean? You don't trust me? Ernest is my best friend!"

"A best friend gets to come into our bedroom? Gets to sit on our bed and wipe your face?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a firmness that left no room for argument.

"I was drunk! He was just taking care of me!"

"He can take care of you in the living room. The bedroom is our private space, and I don't want a third man in it, especially when I'm not home."

That was the first time I realized that the gentle, docile Neil had limits too.

But I didn't take it seriously.

If anything, I thought he was blowing things out of proportion and being unreasonable.

We had a huge fight, and in the end I slammed the door and went back to my parents' house.