The second time I saw Skyla's name was six months later.

I was making a presentation for Chloe's elementary school speech, but my laptop ran out of battery. Aiden wasn't home since he was out for dinner with his department, so I turned on his computer.

While searching for materials online, I accidentally clicked on the cloud drive and saw a folder named "My One True Love".

Aiden was obsessively organized. Inside the folder, 27 subfolders were neatly arranged in chronological order, each labeled by year and month.

Human intuition was a strange thing. Before seeing that folder, I never suspected Aiden of anything, not even the slightest bit.

However, at that moment, as I hovered the mouse over one of the folders, I realized my hand was trembling uncontrollably.

I sat there in silence for two hours.

Inside the main folder was a detailed record of a relationship spanning two years and three months. It was cryptic yet burning with intensity.

They started out as colleagues from different departments who were assigned to the same research project.

Through countless days and nights, they indulged in deep intellectual conversations, exchanging thoughts and ideas.

Slowly, they caught feelings and fell for each other.

They knew their love was forbidden. It was morally unacceptable and would be scorned by society.

So, they made a pact to keep their love pure. They would be strictly platonic, never crossing the line into physical intimacy and succumbing to carnal temptation.

Using this hypocritical facade of moral obligation, they allowed themselves to bask in a little Eden of their own making, freely expressing their emotions and unleashing their love.

Aiden called Skyla the only wife in his life.

"When you walked past me today, I caught the scent that's so uniquely yours, and my heart trembled."

"Most women in this world are tainted, but you… You are pristine and untouched—the one place where my soul can rest. Thank you for cleansing my life."

"Every night, I can only think of your face, repeating your name over and over in my heart."

"I used to mourn my wasted 33 years, but then you appeared, like a vision, and suddenly, every moment leading up to now feels worthwhile."

Skyla called Aiden "Aidie".

"Aidie! My love! My husband!"

"This morning, I lost a few strands of hair. I carefully placed them on your desk. Now, we're bound together by fate."

"In the meeting notes, our names were written one above the other. I couldn't help the joy that crept into my heart. They were the four most beautiful words in the world to me now."

"Aidie, last night, I had a dream I can't even speak of. In the dream, I called your name again and again. When I woke up, all that was left were two streaks of tears soaking my pillow."

"I think of you day and night. My performance at work has hit rock bottom, but instead of firing me, they let Elizabeth go. Aidie, was it you? Did you pull some strings for me? I feel guilty… and yet relieved. You've landed me in an impossible position."

That message was followed by Aiden's gentle words of reassurance. "My love, don't blame yourself. I bent the rules for you willingly. I've never cared for power, but for once, I'm grateful to have it in my hands!"

27 folders, each with 30 documents.

A total of 810 files.

For 810 days and nights, they co-wrote their love story in this so-called Eden, pouring out their hearts and sharing their deepest emotions.

It was just past September, yet the heat of late summer still lingered. Despite that, as I sat in the study, my whole body was cold, as if I were trapped inside an ice cellar.

I rushed out the door, lost in a haze.

Somewhere deep down, I still refused to believe Aiden betrayed me.

I told myself that everything I found on his computer was fake. Someone was trying to set him up. They wanted to frame him.

I called his phone, but there was no answer.

He told me earlier that he was at dinner with his department. So I searched for him, restaurant by restaurant.

I stubbornly wanted to confront him in person. I needed answers.

When I finally spotted Aiden in a barbecue shop, the table was filled with laughter and conversation.

He sat at the head of the table, smiling slightly. He was the perfect image of a cultured, confident, and effortlessly charming man.

To his right sat a woman in a white dress, her long hair cascading down her back. Her eyes shone brightly, and her expression was shy. She was a delicate beauty—soft yet alluring.

My steps abruptly came to a halt. I found myself hesitating, unable to move forward.

The voices of the younger employees rang out in playful banter.

"Mr. Spencer, we admire you in every way except for how whipped you are for your wife. That, we just can't relate to!"

"Yeah, Mr. Spencer, you're always so chill and in control. How could you let your wife, an outsider, meddle in how we do things? What happened to 'strict teachers make great students'?"

It took me a while to register their words.

Then, it clicked. I finally understood why they were saying that.

Aiden was never naturally good at managing people. His approach was to do everything himself since explaining things to others felt like a waste of time to him.

As a result, he exhausted himself, shouldering all the burdens alone, which made him the busiest and most overworked person in the department. It was so extreme that he even didn't have time for Chloe.

So, I suggested that he step back into a proper leadership role and review his subordinates' work instead of doing everything himself. Otherwise, his department's performance would always suffer.

I had no idea how Aiden framed it when he explained it to his team, but judging from their words tonight, they clearly blamed it all on me.

But right now, I had no energy to care about that.

My eyes were locked on the long-haired woman.

She sat in the middle of the crowd, smiling faintly, looking poised and warm. Amidst the noisy, bustling restaurant, she carried an air of quiet elegance, as if untouched by the world around her.

Just then, she smiled gently and said in a soft voice, "Alright, alright. Don't bully Mr. Spencer. If you guys ever need extra help, I'll lend a hand."

The young employees burst into laughter. "Man, if only Mr. Spencer's wife was someone like Skyla. Our department would be heaven. Ah, it's too bad!"

My heart sank.

So, it was true. The long-haired woman was Skyla.

They clinked their glasses, raising toasts to her. Skyla's face flushed a rosy pink, her hands shielding the rim of her glass as she laughed.

Suddenly, Aiden stood up. He took the glass from her hand and downed the entire drink in one gulp. "We don't let women drink in our department. Don't mess with her. I'll drink for her!"

Skyla lowered her gaze, smiling shyly as she and Aiden exchanged a look.

The younger employees cheered and refilled his glass. Aiden, full of bravado, downed another shot.

From across the restaurant, I watched him, my entire body trembling violently. Aiden had a weak stomach. Even the slightest irritation would trigger his ulcers.

For years, aside from taking care of Chloe, keeping Aiden healthy was my number one priority. I searched everywhere for remedies, brewed traditional medicine, and made herbal tea. He wasn't allowed to eat anything too hot, too cold, or too spicy.

Even though I loved spicy food, I never used chili when I cooked. When we had watermelon, I even took it out of the fridge in advance so it wouldn't be too cold when he got home.

Alcohol was absolutely off-limits for Aiden.

I went through so much trouble and put in so much effort just to help him heal his stomach. And now, just to make his true love smile, he was downing drink after drink like it was nothing.

I suddenly couldn't hold it in anymore.

So, this was what happened when someone was pushed to the edge of fury. There was no such thing as staying calm, thinking rationally, or weighing the consequences.

My mind roared with anger, and I charged forward.

I snatched the glass from Aiden's hand and smashed it onto the floor.

"You bastard!" I screamed.

Aiden stared at me in shock.

"Ah!" Skyla gasped, startled. She took two steps back, tripped, and fell.

Her hand knocked over a nearby serving cart, sending the steaming hot soup splashing everywhere. Scalding oil splattered across her face and forehead.

She let out a piercing scream.

Aiden jolted and shouted in panic, "Skyla!"

Everyone rushed toward her.

Suddenly, a powerful shove slammed into my shoulder, making me lose my balance. I stumbled backward and crashed onto the floor. My forehead struck the edge of a table.

One of Aiden's young subordinates glared at me viciously. "Where did this madwoman come from? Do you think you can run after hurting someone?"

I clutched my head, feeling a warm liquid trickle down, blurring my vision. Through the blood, I saw Aiden rushing toward me, his face etched with panic.

But I didn't care. I lost it.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, "I saw it! I saw everything in that damn folder! You two are disgusting! It's absolutely revolting!"

…

For the past three months, every time I thought about what happened next, it always felt like a dream.

It was a nightmare—a horrific, twisted nightmare.

The shock, the head injury, the screaming—I must have worked myself up too much because I blacked out.

When I woke up in the hospital, Aiden was sitting next to me. His head was bowed low, and his expression was blank.

Weakly, I opened my mouth. "Get out. I don't want to see you. You make me sick."

Aiden's body stiffened. He raised his unshaven face, his voice hoarse as he said, "Lily, don't get so worked up. It's not what you think."

I reached for the thermos on the table and hurled it at him.

He didn't dodge. It hit his jaw with a dull thud before falling to the floor. Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, then bent down to pick it up and place it back on the table.

With a deep sigh, he said, "You can hit me, curse me, and do whatever you want. At this point, I'm not going to defend myself. I just want to say one thing. Skyla and I never crossed the line."

I stared at him, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. "So what? Am I supposed to applaud you two for your noble morals? Thank you for not going all the way?"

Aiden looked at me, his expression full of sorrow. "Do you have to say it like that?"

Under the blanket, my trembling hand pressed tightly against the mattress. "You think my words are disgusting? Are they as disgusting as what you two did? Just thinking about the things you wrote to each other makes me want to vomit!

"Don't act like a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers! What a load of crap! Your so-called "platonic love" is just cheating in disguise!"

In the past, whenever I watched TV shows or read novels where the female lead caught her husband cheating and flew into a hysterical rage, screaming and crying as if they had completely lost it, I always felt indifferent.

I thought those women were too emotional and undignified.

I used to think, "He's just a man. If he's done you dirty, just ditch him."

But now that I experienced it, I realized there was no controlling it. I was drowning in rage and betrayal. My chest felt like it was going to explode.

I wanted to throw every vile, hateful word I could think of at them.

I wanted nothing more than to destroy him.

I wanted to drag him and that woman to hell with me.