Chapter 2.

Hana had intended to return to the boutique, but the image of her husband laughing with Ranti kept clawing at her thoughts. What was Ranti doing in the elevator with Prane anyway? Their offices were on different floors. Taking the same elevator with him meant going out of her way.

She called Prane. She wanted to hear what answer her husband would give.

The call went unanswered long enough that Hana was about to hang up when Prane finally picked up.

"Hey, Han."

"Where are you?" Hana asked, pretending she didn't already know.

"At the office. Why?" Prane's voice carried a hint of irritation.

"Did you just get there?" She pressed.

"No, I've been here for a while. What's wrong?"

His tone had softened, back to normal. Hearing his answer, Hana rolled her eyes. Liar.

"Your mother came by. As usual, she asked whether I'm pregnant yet. She suggested we both go get checked out. You know what that means, right? She basically accused me of being the problem, even though neither of us even knows who's infertile here."

She was venting, but she also had another reason for keeping him on the line. Her instincts told her something was off with her husband, so she deliberately drew out the conversation to keep him from going anywhere.

"Don't take it to heart, sweetheart. Mom just really wants a grandchild."

"I know, but she could be more careful with her words. Don't talk to me like that. We both don't know which one of us is less fertile here."

Hana could hear the irritation creeping back into her voice.

"Sweetheart, don't get so upset. We'll talk about it at home, okay? I need to get back to work. Bye, sweetheart. I love you."

Hana scoffed at the declaration of love from her husband.

Before suspicion had taken root in her heart, those words might have made her smile. But now, they only made her sick. Those words felt like a cover—something to mask whatever was going on between him and Ranti.

Should I go back up to his office? she asked herself.

Rather than keep guessing, she decided to return to her husband's office unannounced.

As she stepped out of the elevator, her heart began to pound. She was terrified that what she feared might become reality. The closer she got to Prane's office, the harder her heart hammered against her ribs.

When Irma saw Hana approaching, she immediately looked nervous and scrambled to her feet. Hana was now certain someone was in her husband's office. And she knew who.

"Mrs. Han—"

"Shhh..."

Hana pressed her index finger to her lips. Irma fell silent. Her face was tense, helpless.

Hana walked slowly toward her husband's office, careful not to let the sound of her heels click too loudly against the floor. With each step, her heart raced faster until her entire body trembled.

A stroke of luck—the door to Prane's office wasn't fully closed. There was a small gap, just enough for Hana to see what was happening inside.

Careless fools.

Hana's feet stopped moving when she saw it. Pain—like a thousand sharp blades stabbing her heart all at once.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

With trembling hands, she pulled her phone from her bag and pointed it toward Prane and Ranti, who were locked in an embrace. Their foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on each other. She could already predict what would happen next as they tilted their heads slightly, positioning themselves for what was coming.

Still pointing her camera at them, Hana closed her eyes. Even as she fought with everything she had not to cry, she couldn't bear to watch her husband's lips meet another woman's. Especially not her own cousin.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

When she felt she had enough, she turned off her phone and slipped it back into her bag. Then she turned to face Irma.

"How long has this been going on, Irma? Does that woman come to my husband's office often?"

Hana no longer bothered with polite address.

Irma could only shake her head, her face full of regret and guilt.

"You're a woman, and you covered for them. Don't you have any empathy for other women?"

Hana's voice cracked with a mixture of anger, sadness, and disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hana. I swear I didn't know there was anything between Mr. Prane and Mrs. Ranti. I only noticed recently that Mrs. Ranti has been coming to his office more often."

Irma's voice was choked with emotion. She felt sorry for Hana.

Irma didn't need an explanation. She knew exactly what Hana had captured on her phone inside that office. But her words meant nothing to Hana now. Everything was already clear.

Her husband had betrayed her.

With heavy steps, Hana left Prane's office. Not a single tear fell down her cheek. She refused to cry for a traitor. Her tears were too precious to waste on a man like Prane.

Is this why no child has been given to us? Because he was never faithful?

She whispered the question to herself as she walked.

Back at the boutique, Hana retreated to her workspace. But she couldn't sketch. Her mind was too unsettled.

"What should I do?" she kept asking herself.

Does Ibra know that Ranti is betraying him?

She pulled her phone out again. She weighed her options, then decided to send a message to Ibra.

[This is Hana, Prane's wife. I heard you're out of town for a seminar. If you don't mind me asking, when will you be back?]

She sent the message, grateful she had saved his number just in case of emergencies.

Two checkmarks appeared. Delivered, but unread. He must still be busy at the seminar.

Then the checkmarks turned blue. Read. She could see the indicator that he was typing. A moment later, his reply arrived.

[I'm not out of town, actually. Just on the outskirts. It's a bit far to drive back and forth, so I decided to stay overnight. I'm at a seminar now, but I'll be back by late afternoon. Is something wrong?]

Hana could hardly believe what she was reading. Liar. You said three days out of town, but it was only one night. You really are something else, Ranti.

Her anger simmered.

[Can we meet, Ibra? There's something I need to tell you. Something urgent. Preferably before you go home.]

The message was read, but no reply came. Hana grew anxious.

[It's about my marriage to Prane. And yours to Ranti.]

She sent another message. This one went unread. Hana's anxiety turned to frustration.

The image of her husband exchanging saliva with Ranti flashed in her mind again, and her heart throbbed with fresh pain.

How long has this been going on?

A message notification pulled her from her thoughts. Ibra had responded.

[All right, Hana. Let's meet at Cafe Noe at three. I'll wait for you there.]

[Okay. See you this afternoon.]

Hana checked the recording she had taken at Prane's office. She worried that by the time she met Ibra, she would have forgotten to hit the record button. That would be humiliating. Ibra might think she was making false accusations if she had no proof.

Now she could barely wait for three o'clock to arrive. She was eager to see Ibra's reaction when he saw the recording.

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