Chapter 1

Everyone laughed at how ridiculous I was, actually sharing a room with my boyfriend and my best friend both.

Three months ago, my best friend was beaten so badly by her ex-husband that she was left half paralyzed, and she only got her divorce by walking away with nothing.

Crying, I brought her home—she was falling apart mentally—and cared for her myself, even sleeping in the same bed with her.

My boyfriend was forced onto a makeshift bed on the floor, and he complained about it.

"I won't even let you put on your own socks, and here you are playing nursemaid to her?"

"You could just pay to send her to a care home, but no, you'd rather make yourself a laughingstock."

I folded her clothes with brisk, neat movements. "She's traumatized. She's too scared to sleep without me."

"She was the one who pulled me out of my depression back then. I can't just turn my back on her."

He didn't say anything more.

Then one day I forgot my ID on a business trip and had to turn back home.

The bedroom door was ajar, and I could hear soft, suggestive panting from inside.

My heart lurched, and I softened my steps and moved closer.

My best friend—who was supposedly bedridden all day, unable to care for herself, with nothing to do but cry—was now straddling my boyfriend, full of energy, her voice sweet and syrupy.

"You really are clever, coming up with this scheme to make her pity me so I'd have a perfect excuse to move in."

My boyfriend chuckled softly, his voice low.

"You played your part well too, acting sick every day to keep her occupied, afraid she'd have any time to get close to me."

Before the bed frame started creaking, she let out a long sigh.

"I just pray we never get caught. I don't want to lose her."

I stood frozen outside the door, cold all over.

I wiped away my tears, took out my phone, and messaged my mother.

Mom, that guy you said you wanted to introduce me to—set up a time for us to meet.

......

I turned and went into the study to look for my ID.

My body wouldn't stop shaking, and I accidentally knocked into the desk.

Hearing the noise, Otto pushed the door open, his expression freezing.

"Zoe? Weren't you away on a business trip?"

I glanced at his neck.

His collar was rumpled, and it couldn't hide the glaring red marks.

"I forgot my ID."

He seemed to relax, and pulled open the second drawer on the right with practiced ease.

Handing me the ID, his tone was resigned.

"I honestly don't know how you'd get by without me."

My eyes went red in an instant.

I kept my head down, my voice muffled.

"Is Isabella still asleep?"

He cleared his throat, his gaze wandering.

"Probably. I haven't been paying attention to her."

As cold as ever.

"Otto, maybe we really should send her to a care home."

He shook his head reflexively, his voice rising a few notches.

"No."

Then he caught himself and added another line.

"I don't want you running to a care home every day."

I said nothing.

After a long silence, he made it sound offhand.

"Why bring this up all of a sudden? Did you... just see something?"

I shook my head. "I just feel like I've really put you through a lot."

He smiled. "I'm used to it. It's because you care about her so much."

I gripped my ID tightly, turned, and walked out of the study.

I caught a glimpse of Isabella lying in the bedroom with her eyes closed, as if she were truly asleep.

As though she hadn't just been smiling sweetly on top of him a moment ago.

As I passed the kitchen, Otto called out to me.

"Have some soup before you go?"

I paused. "Okay."

Not long after Isabella moved in, he'd started making slow-simmered soup every day.

"You've worried yourself thin. Drink more soup and build yourself back up."

I really believed he cared about me.

I'd forgotten that Isabella had a Cantonese stomach and loved slow-simmered soup.

Now the warm liquid slid down my throat, but the taste was bitter.

I set down the bowl, took my suitcase, and headed out.

Waiting for my ride downstairs, I opened the security camera feed for the bedroom.

I'd installed it a couple of days ago, thinking it would be convenient for checking on Isabella.

I hadn't had the chance to tell them yet.

On the screen, the two of them sat propped against the headboard, wrapped in each other's arms.

Isabella looked uneasy. "Zoe hasn't found out, has she?"

Otto shook his head with certainty. "No, she's perfectly calm."

"That's good."

She burrowed into Otto's arms and wrapped hers around his waist.

"She'll never imagine my marrying someone far away was a lie."

"I only went to the next city over, so it's not easy to get caught when you come see me."

"If the two of you weren't about to get married, I wouldn't have wanted to move in either."

Otto stroked her hair.

"So that's why you cling to me so tightly every day once she's off to work?"

She pouted. "In a month you two will be married, and who knows if you'll settle down then. I have to make every second count."

"You little minx..."

My hands trembled as I shut off the sickening footage and closed my eyes.

Isabella got married three years ago.

Back then I'd cried my eyes red and asked her why she was marrying someone so far away.

"Nothing I can do about it—my husband's just so good in bed."

She'd pinched my cheek and given me a playful smile.

"Don't be sad. However happy you and your boyfriend are, that's how happy my husband and I are."

At the time I thought she was just comforting me. Now, looking back, every word of it was true.

The thought of who that husband of hers really was, of how they'd played me for a fool for three years—

My stomach heaved.

No wonder.

From then on, Otto went away on business every month.

And Isabella never once let me visit her new home.

Every time her husband came up, she'd give some vague answer and change the subject.

As the tears fell, my phone rang.

"Sweetheart, that young man's free tomorrow. Do you want to meet him?"

I answered softly, "Okay."