Thomas's head snapped sideways, his cheek instantly swelling red.

He stared in stunned silence for a heartbeat, then roared with rage. "You dare hit me? I'll smash your face in!"

He charged like a maddened bull, slamming his palm into my forehead. Pain exploded across my skull, making my vision swim.

The other volunteers finally snapped out of their shock. Some seized his arms; others grabbed his legs.

He shrieked shrilly, thrashing against them. "Let go of me! Imogen will make sure every one of you regrets it!"

The courtyard dissolved into pandemonium. Then a parent bellowed over the chaos, "Stop it! Abraham is Imogen's husband! Hit him again, and we're calling the police!"

Thomas froze, his eyes bulging in disbelief. "What did you say? I am her real boyfriend!"

He swung wildly once more. I blocked the blow and delivered another stinging slap across his face.

"You're out of your mind!" I snapped. "Our kid is already six years old. Shall I fetch the marriage certificate for you to inspect?"

The loud slap echoed through the air, and the tension in the air immediately cooled down.

Thomas cupped his swollen cheek, his teeth grinding audibly. Then he sneered, "So what if you're her husband? She's finished with an old fossil like you. We hook up constantly. Last Thursday, we spent the entire night in a love hotel."

I furrowed my brows, but the anger bubbling inside me gradually dissipated.

Last Thursday was our wedding anniversary. Imogen had spent the whole day by my side. But then, it occurred to me that I had drunk too much and fallen asleep early that night.

Doubt clawed viciously at my gut, but on the surface, I kept my composure and fired off a discreet text to my lawyer, asking about custody arrangements, asset division, and infidelity protocols.

I hesitated about telling my parents when a message came.

Imogen: [Honey, are you still at the volunteer event?]

This was likely a probe into the possibility of me catching her with Thomas, but I forced calm into my reply: [I am. Put off whatever you're doing and come pick me up right now.]

There was a brief pause before she responded with a crying emoji: [Why so worked up? Alright, I'm on my way.]

Her quick agreement didn't shake the unease settling in my chest. It didn't make sense. If she came now, our confrontation would be inevitable.

Thomas waved his phone with manic glee, smirking at me. "She's almost here. Let's see who ends up with egg on their face."

I glanced at the chat window, then at his smug face. The nerves in my body quietly tensed.

Soon, a sleek black car pulled up at the building.

Thomas's eyes lit up, and he eagerly waved his hand. "Babe!"

Imogen stepped out, impeccably dressed in a cream suit, cradling an enormous bouquet of roses.