Dennis held me close as he vowed, "I promise you, I'll never cheat on you, Jackie."

After he coaxed me, he turned around and headed into the kitchen. As I watching him working diligently in the kitchen, I revised the divorced paper and scheduled it to be sent from my email ten days later.

When Dennis brought the dishes to the table, he pushed all the best ones toward me. He sat down, his eyes full of warmth as he watched me with a smile.

Then he said, "I love you, Jackie."

Though the love in his eyes seemed real, the lipstick on his shirt cut into me like a knife.

After Dennis came home, he was too in such a hurry to cook for me that he started without even changing his clothes.

I blinked, hoping I would not burst into tears.

"Jackie," he said. "We'll celebrate our wedding anniversary in ten days. I've prepared a huge surprise for you.”

I tilted my head back in an effort to hide the sourness in my voice. “I have a big gift for you, too. You’ll definitely like it.”

His eyes lit up instantly and he leaned in and nuzzled against my neck playfully. The scent of his cologne made me want to puke.

I quietly pulled away and his eyes immediately reddened, "Why are you pushing me away? Don't you want me anymore?"

I did not say anything, but he became panicked and clutched my hand tightly. “Wife, I love you. Please don’t leave me. I’ll change anything you want.”

He looked so sincere, yet his love wasn’t reserved just for me.

I knew this because just a moment ago, his little assistant had posted a picture on social media of them kissing and Dennis was wearing the same clothes he had on now.

“I’m tired,” I said and pushed him away. He looked apologetic and tried to cling to me again.

“Jackie, I’m so sorry. Work’s been hectic lately and I haven’t had time for you. How about a trip to the islands tomorrow?” he asked.

“I don’t want to go,” I declared.

Before I could say more, he pulled two concert tickets from his pocket.

"Just look! I got tickets for your favorite singer’s concert. They were nearly impossible to get," he coaxed.

I knew just how hard it was to get those tickets. After thinking it over, I agreed.

I figured it might as well be our breakup trip, a way to bid farewell to my old self.

“This time, let’s book two separate rooms. I want some time alone to rest," I said.

His expression immediately changed. There was fear and alarm in his eyes. He then said, "I feel something is off. Did I do something wrong that made you angry?"

I forced a smile. “No, I’m just exhausted in the past few days and need a few days alone.”

He kept questioning me until he finally felt convinced.

When we arrived on the island, Dennis opened the suitcase. Inside, he had carefully packed outfits, cosmetics and everything I might need for the concert. He had even thoughtfully included blister-prevention stickers for my shoes.

"Jackie, I've learned how to drive an electric car, so I can take you for a ride around the island," he told me as he hid his mangled hand behind his back.

Dennis pulled me to sit by the seaside, planting a kiss on my cheek as he gazed at the shoreline.

"Jackie, they say that couples who kiss on the beach will never be separated for the rest of their lives.”

I wiped away the trace of his kiss.

"Really?" I asked him.

However, in a few days, I would be gone and we would never see each other again.

By noon, I felt sleepy and went back to the room to rest. In the afternoon, I wanted to go for a walk and texted him, but he didn’t respond.

Worried he might make a scene if he noticed I wasn’t there, I decided to knock on his door and let him know. However, as I approached, I heard unmistakable sounds of passion coming from inside.

My fingers went numb as I opened the assistant’s Twitter. Her location was tagged on the island and her latest post was a picture of her lying on the beach, with Dennis applying sunscreen to her back.

"My Sugar Daddy knew I love the ocean, so he brought me to see the sea," the assistant wrote.

I sneered as the corners of my lips curled mockingly. So, she was the reason we came here. He just brought me as an accessory. They could not even wait until after lunch. It was disgusting.

As soon as the assistant graduated from college, she became Dennis's assistant. Everyone speculated whether she was exceptionally talented or had a powerful backer. Only I knew the truth that she was a replica of the younger me on the day of my college and Dennis was reliving his thrill of youth through her.

When people learned about his infidelity, some of them tried to comfort me and give me advice, "Look how much he loves you. Even when he cheats, he finds someone who looks just like you."

However, cheating was unforgivable, whatever how you framed it.

The sounds of pleasure inside continued and my fingers turned ice cold. The comments under the assistant’s Twitter post were full of congratulations. Some even noticed she was staying at the most luxurious hotel in Bexton City.

When someone questioned her lifestyle, one account sprang up to defend her, “I’m wealthy. My woman deserves the best,” it said.

I knew immediately it was Dennis's because he had said the same words to me. Soon after that, that account gave hundreds of dollars in cash gifts in the comment section, silencing any negative comments. Suddenly, everyone wished them eternal happiness.

My heart twisted with pain. Even though I’d already prepared to let go, the hurt still pierced deep. Tears I had been holding back finally spilled over.

I went back to my room, packed my things and prepared to leave. I couldn’t bear to see more evidence of Dennis’s love for someone else.

He must have seen my message because he rushed over and knocked on my door frantically. When he saw me packing my suitcase, his face froze in shock.

"Jackie, what’s wrong? Why are you leaving?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I just don’t like the atmosphere in Bexton City.”

He touched my forehead and dug through my suitcase to pull out allergy medication, then started packing my things for me.

He then said, “I brought medicine for your sinus issues. Take it and sit over there, I’ll finish packing for you.”

Watching his concerned actions, I felt a bitter sadness. His worry seemed so genuine, yet his belt hung loosely around his waist and his shirt buttons were mismatched. He thought he was hiding things well, but these little details told me everything I needed to know.

We booked the earliest flight home. On the plane, Dennis kept a protective hand near my head, worried I’d get airsick. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to smile and closed my eyes to rest instead.

When he noticed I was in a bad mood, he looked at me and asked tentatively, "Jackie, if you’re unhappy, please tell me. Even if you want the moon, I’ll find a way to give it to you.”

I responded with a quiet hum.

Then I stated, "If you ever stop loving me, promise you'll tell me. Okay, Dennis?"

He acted as though I’d struck him, leaning in with tears welling up in his eyes. He promised, "Jackie, I swear, I'll always love you."

I gave him a self-mocking smile.

When we got home, he drew me a bath, asking me to call him when I was done. Exhausted, I dozed off in the tub. By the time I woke up, the water had gone completely cold and Dennis was nowhere in sight.

Feeling dizzy, I stumbled across the carpet, but I didn’t get far before collapsing.

When Dennis returned, a doctor was already administering an IV. The doctor said I had a slight fever and he clenched his fists in distress.

He gently blew on the spot where the needle had pricked me and blamed himself. “Jackie, I’m so sorry. There was an emergency at work and I rushed to handle it, but it took longer than I expected.”

“I’m sorry, Baby. It won’t happen again," he said.

I sneered. Is that right? In fact, I clearly saw them when I was in the bathtub.

Dennis had been standing downstairs when his assistant threw herself into his embrace. Hand in hand, they slipped into the back seat of a car together and the vehicle rocked for a while and I did not see them come out again. So, this Dennis had meant when he claimed he was working overtime.

In the day that followed, Dennis kept making different dishes for me and caring for me attentively until my health improved a lot.

When he wasn’t home, I arranged to meet my best friend and go shopping. Halfway through our outing, I saw him. Dennis, with his arm wrapped around a woman, walked into a hotel. I followed them inside, just in time to witness them shamelessly making out in the hotel lobby, while his hands roamed over her body. 

They weren't loud but I could hear them clearly from where I hid around the corner.

"Mr. Landon, between me and Jackie Harris, which one do you prefer?” she asked.

His expression darkened and his hands stilled.

“I’ve told you,” he hissed. “Never mention her name. She is pure and you are cheap. Don’t let her name come out from your lips.”

The assistant’s face fell for a moment, but she quickly grabbed his hand, pressing it to her chest, even coyly lifting her coat to reveal more.

"Mr. London, look what I wear …."

He closed his eyes as desire washed over him. He leaned close to whisper something into her ear, then the assistant beamed with joy.

Judging by his lips, he must have said, "I like you better in bed. She could never be as wild as you are."

My best friend pulled me toward the exit. With a trembling voice, she said, "Jackie, don't watch anymore. Let's go, okay? In three days, you’ll leave and we’ll never have to see him again.”

I collapsed into her arms and sobbed, letting out all the grievances I had bottled up over these days.

When Dennis returned home that evening, he brought a beautiful long dress. He knelt beside my bed, looking almost desperate.

"Will you come to tonight’s gala with me, Jackie? Everyone will be bringing their wives," he asked.

I nodded. After all, I was still his wife in name, since we had not divorced yet.

He kissed my forehead, smiled and he had arranged for a makeup artist to come by later.

The doorbell rang suddenly and standing at the entrance was his assistant. She looked pitiful and upset.

Dennis scolded her harshly in a hushed voice, "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to?"

I stepped forward and gently moved him aside, while putting a warm expression on my face, "Is your assistant here? What brings you here to see Dennis?"

The assistant pretended to be scared and shrank behind me.

“I came to deliver some documents to Mr. London. Why is he so angry?” She looked at me sweetly. “Miss, you’re the best.”

She reached out and held my hand then asked for my WhatsApp number.

Dennis's face turned gloomy and he tried to refuse her. However, I took out my phone and accepted her friend request.

The assistant stuck out her tongue at Dennis, then darted away like a mischievous sprite. He frowned, irritation clouding his features. “That assistant … I’ll fire her one of these days.”

Despite his words, his fingers were busy typing furiously on his phone.

I caught a glimpse of the messages. The assistant had sent a photo of herself in a provocative outfit to tease him.

"Mr. London, is it exciting to see me wearing this in front of your wife?" she texted.

He swallowed hard. “You little temptress, just wait. Tonight, I’ll show you what I’m made of.”

I watched him reply, my smile never wavered and I glanced through the assistant’s public Instagram post, which she hadn’t blocked me from seeing.

It was all there. When he’d driven miles to buy me a tiny cake, he had held hands with her in the car. During his supposed late-night overtime, there had been illicit encounters in his office. Every night, after I fell asleep, they had rendezvous in our living room.

A sickening wave of nausea churned inside me, almost drowning me.

Then, out of nowhere, the large commercial screen on the nearby building flashed with the assistant’s photo and name, wishing her a happy birthday.