Perhaps my demeanor surprised her, as she paused.

A moment later, she exploded, "What problem could I possibly have with Eric? What's wrong with sending him some photos? I was sick and needed him to see!"

"You were sick? What's wrong with you?"

Hearing she was unwell made me grab her shoulders, checking her over carefully.

She shrugged off my hands, her voice gaining strength, "Yes, I'm sick! You didn't know? You're always busy with work; when do you ever care about my health? If it weren't for Eric, I might have died, and you wouldn't even know!"

She spoke as if the fault lay with me.

"But what kind of illness requires sending such private photos?"

After a brief moment of panic, I regained my composure.

A flicker of guilt crossed Cynthia's eyes. "It's an allergy to essential oils! You didn't know? I felt unwell, and Eric helped me with an essential oil massage, but my chest and thighs turned red, so he asked me to send him a photo to see what was wrong!"

I let out a bitter laugh, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn't articulate.

Even if it was an allergy, her actions felt hypocritical.

After we got together, she would reluctantly take some couple photos, and there was no way she would ever send revealing pictures.

She had once tearfully told me, "Liam, I'm a very conservative girl. I'm scared my photos might end up on some websites, so please don't force me."

She had spoken with such sincerity that I never dared to cross that line, not even taking pictures of her fully clothed without asking first.

But now, she was willingly sharing such intimate photos with another man, especially her ex-boyfriend.

As a man, I knew how a normal guy would react to those photos.

Just thinking about it felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

On the surface, I appeared calm, but inside, I was falling apart.

We stood there in silence, the atmosphere growing colder.

After a while, Cynthia's tone softened unexpectedly as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Liam, do you want me to go to the hospital and let another man examine me? Eric is the most convenient and reliable choice!"

"If you don't like it, I won't ask him again," she said, her lips almost brushing against my cheek.

In the past, I would have been taken aback by such affection.

With someone as warm and lovely as her in my arms, any man would struggle to resist.

But at that moment, I realized her affection was merely a diversion.

Love can resolve misunderstandings, but this situation was far from a simple misunderstanding.

I refused to delude myself any longer.

I released her hands and turned towards the bedroom.

"Cynthia, let's just take a moment to cool off!"

Cynthia stomped her foot behind me, furious. "Liam, don't say I didn't give you a chance! You're just getting too demanding!"

This was my first time engaging in a cold war with her, but it wasn't the first time I felt uneasy about her closeness to Eric.

When Eric came to our city to pursue his medical doctorate, Cynthia drove my car to pick him up from the train station, leaving me to squeeze onto the subway during rush hour.

The subway was packed like sardines, and I lost a shoe in the crowd, having to go to work with one foot bare.

I texted her about it, but it took ages for her to reply.

Finally, I received a message from her, mocking me for being unable to handle a little hardship.

Initially, I thought Eric was just a close classmate of hers, but during a class reunion, someone let it slip that Cynthia had been entangled with Eric for many years.

After that, I made it clear, both directly and indirectly, that I wanted her to keep her distance from Eric.

Yet, she continued as if nothing had changed.

Whenever I expressed even the slightest dissatisfaction, Cynthia would look at me with her enchanting eyes, as if I were a disappointment.

"Eric is a doctor; connections like that are hard to come by. When our family has health issues, who else will we turn to but Eric?"

I told her that we could see a doctor through proper channels and that she didn't need to compromise herself for someone like him.

Cynthia had once confessed to me how deeply hurt she was when she broke up with Eric, losing seven pounds in a week.

I didn't want to see her suffer because of his presence again.

Cynthia looked at me with indifference. "Liam, have you lost your mind? In this day and age, if you don't have some connections, which doctor is going to take you seriously at the hospital? If it weren't for our past relationship, we wouldn't even have the chance to know someone like Eric!"

Her argument was too solid for me to counter.

But when my dad suffered a brain hemorrhage and was hospitalized, the usually proactive Cynthia fell silent.

I tentatively suggested she ask Eric for help in reviewing the scans, but she quickly grew impatient.

"Liam, aren't you making things difficult? Eric is a massage therapist; he can't possibly look at brain scans!"

"Cynthia, didn't you say Eric was doing well at the hospital? Can't he help find someone who can?" I nearly begged her, thinking of my father's condition.

"Ugh, are you annoying me? Eric hasn't graduated yet; he wouldn't dare ask those big-shot doctors for favors. Just take a leave and go home to find a doctor there!" Cynthia's tone was icy, her refusal unwavering.

I turned over in frustration.

She claimed Eric wasn't a cardiologist, so he wouldn't help with my dad's scans.

But he wasn't a dermatologist either—why could Cynthia send him intimate photos?

Deep down, I already knew the answer; I just didn't want to face it.

When all possibilities are ruled out, the remaining possibility, no matter how cruel, is the truth.

I sighed heavily, feeling a wave of despair wash over me.