Chapter3

The next evening when Daniel came home, his expression was perfectly normal.

He hung up his coat, walked into the living room, and saw me sitting at the dining table. His tone was gentle:

"Feeling any better today? I was worried about you all last night."

I looked up at him without answering.

He came over, pulled out a chair, and sat down, reaching for my hand.

"Elena, don't shut yourself away. I'm heartbroken about your parents too."

I unlocked my phone and pushed it toward him. "Look at this."

He glanced down, his brow furrowing. "What is this?"

"Your birthday dinner yesterday." My voice was calm.

He stared at the screen for a few seconds, then looked up at me. "How did you even come across this? There are so many people online, the photo angle is so blurry—what makes you think it's me?"

"That hand," I said.

He laughed, his tone helpless. "Elena, plenty of people wear wedding rings. Plenty of people have scars on their hands. You're being too sensitive right now."

I didn't respond.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Yesterday I really was in a panic. You know how much of a hassle it is to lose your ID. The line at the office took forever, and I was a mess. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral."

He paused, his tone softening. "Don't let one photo make you suspicious of me."

I stared at him, unmoving.

When I didn't speak, his expression gradually darkened. "Fine, I'll be straight with you. After I got the ID, I happened to run into some friends. They dragged me out to dinner. It happened to be her birthday, everyone was fooling around and took a photo. The date was a coincidence. If you insist on reading into it, there's nothing I can do."

"A coincidence?" I repeated.

He nodded. "Yes, a coincidence. Everyone was just having fun. The so-called commemoration was just a joke."

I took my phone back and kept scrolling.

"This ring, also a coincidence?" I showed him another photo.

His expression shifted.

"These cufflinks—you wear them all the time." I kept scrolling. "And this car key. The keychain is the birthday present I gave you last year."

He fell silent.

I laid several photos side by side on the table.

"The restaurant bill was charged to our joint account. The hotel night view—that night you said you were working late."

He looked up at me, his eyes cold now. "I already told you. It was just a commemoration."

"Commemorating what?" I asked.

"A friendship." He said it calmly. "You're making this into something much bigger than it is."

I stared at him, suddenly feeling exhausted.

From start to finish, all he did was deny, explain, backtrack—but never once did he actually admit wrongdoing.

I slowly pulled my phone back and set it on the table.

"Daniel, I want a divorce."

He froze for a moment, then let out a cold laugh. "In your current state, everything you say is extreme."

"I'm perfectly clear-headed."

He stood up, walked over to me, and looked down at me. "Elena, you can't leave me. You're emotionally unstable right now. When you calm down, you'll regret this."

I looked at his certainty, and the last bit of warmth inside me disappeared completely.

He thought I was just being emotional.

From beginning to end, he'd never taken my words seriously.