Chapter 2

In the end, I let her in.

She sat across from me, fidgeting, trying to explain the situation with Joseph.

"Mrs. Smith, Professor Smith and I—it's really not what you think. That day, I genuinely wasn't feeling well. I begged him to go skydiving with me. It was just a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

I laughed and pulled up her account.

"The three hundred–plus videos underneath—those are all misunderstandings too?"

Betty was speechless. I brushed her hand aside.

"If you're here to study, then study. Stop trying to seduce someone else's husband."

Her face went white. Eyes red, she turned and ran out.

Moments later, I got a message from Joseph asking why I was giving Betty a hard time.

I laughed bitterly and called him.

"Joseph, she came to me. What I'd like to know is how she got the address to my studio."

"Instead of wasting your time coming here to interrogate me, why don't you sign the divorce papers and go find your true love?"

Silence.

Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"Grace, you're not in a stable emotional state right now. I'll come over tonight and we'll talk."

That evening, he showed up as promised.

I sat at my easel, brush never pausing, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What? Here to demand justice for your little one?"

He didn't respond.

After a long moment, he sighed, his tone resigned.

"You're the one who's my wife, Grace."

I ignored him.

He continued. "I have a conference abroad this week. I won't be back for seven days. When I get back, we'll sort things out between us."

My hand holding the brush froze. He went on:

"Since you don't like Betty, I'll minimize contact with her going forward. I've handed off her project and coursework to other professors. I won't be involved anymore."

I said nothing and went back to painting.

He lingered in the doorway for a long while before finally leaving.

The next morning, I received his boarding notification and a photo for proof.

Over the following seven days, he sent me check-in messages like clockwork.

During conference sessions.

At meals.

Even before bed.

I didn't reply to a single one.

While Joseph was still out of the country, I went back to the house to retrieve an important USB drive.

Just as I was about to leave, I heard Betty's voice downstairs.

"Professor, if I come home with you for your birthday, won't your wife be upset?"

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't posted those videos, she never would've fought with you."

She was holding a cake, her expression full of guilt.

Joseph tenderly ruffled her hair.

"It has nothing to do with you. She's just overthinking things and being petty."

The words had barely left his mouth when he looked up and saw me standing at the top of the stairs.

I didn't acknowledge him, but he scrambled after me in a panic.

"Don't be angry—I brought you that watch you've been wanting."

"I waited in line forever to finally get it."

He opened the box, revealing an elegant watch, his face a mask of self-satisfied tenderness.

As if refusing the watch would prove I was the petty woman he'd just called me.

"Don't be mad, okay? I brought you a gift. It'd be pretty petty of you not to take it."

He opened the box. Inside was a beautiful watch.

I let out a cold laugh.

"This isn't a recycling bin. Don't bring me cheap garbage."

Then I turned on my heel and walked out.

And blocked him on every platform.