I clutched my five-month-old daughter in my arms and held my six-year-old son’s hand tightly as we stumbled desperately through the freezing snow.

Faster, faster. Don’t look back.

My son’s voice trembled as he cried out, “Mom, we’ve been running all night. Where are we going?”

Snapping out of my daze, I lifted my gaze toward the upscale residential area in the distance. My chest tightened with hope. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. We’re going home to find Dad. Once we find him, we won’t have to be scared of anything.”

My son nodded with childlike certainty. “Yes. Dad will definitely chase the bad guys away and then it won’t hurt anymore.”

The familiar front door stood right in front of us. I raised my hand urgently to knock—but my hand passed straight through the door.

——

Stunned, I gathered my children and guided them past the barrier, into the living room and then into the bedroom. That’s when I saw them. A man and a woman, entangled on the bed.

Instinctively, I covered my son’s eyes, but it was already too late.

“Mom,” he asked innocently, “who is that pretty lady? Why is Dad on top of her? Why is she screaming like that? Is Dad bullying her?”

I forced a trembling smile, though my chest felt like it was caving in. “No, Aiden. She’s just… playing around with Dad.”

My son reached up, his tiny hand brushing against the tears on my face. His wide eyes searched mine. “But Mom, why are you crying?”

I turned my head away, unable to meet his gaze.

Why was I crying?

Because in an instant, I had discovered the truth—that the man I had been married to for ten years was cheating on me.

Our relationship had been strained for a while, though I never knew the reason. Still, I kept fumbling for ways to hold us together. He had said he wanted a daughter, so despite my weak health, I gave him one. But even then, he often treated me with cold indifference.

Now I understood. He had found someone else.

I couldn’t bear to let the children watch this scene any longer, so I decided we would wait in the living room until it ended. After that, I would confront Freddie Tyler.

Just then, the movements on the bed stopped.

Freddie gathered the woman tenderly in his arms and she gazed up at him with a smile. “Husband, I’m hungry. I want to eat the porridge you make.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face and after a long pause, he murmured, “Alright.”

My feet froze where I stood.

So he truly doted on this woman.

Freddie hated cooking. He would rather order takeout—or even go hungry—than set foot in the kitchen. And yet, I knew better than anyone that he was an excellent cook.

Long ago, when we argued, he would wordlessly make me a delicious meal as a way of apologizing. But somewhere along the way, he had stopped cooking altogether.

Even when I was recovering after giving birth to our daughter, I begged him to make me lotus seed soup. He never once agreed.

And yet, with just a casual request from this woman, he obediently headed into the kitchen.

When he left, she propped herself lazily against the headboard and I finally saw her face clearly.

She was delicate and lovely, probably in her early twenties. Her slightly furrowed brows gave her an endearing look, soft and vulnerable.

I glanced down at my long black down jacket and felt an unfamiliar sting of shame.

Emma Collins, just look at yourself. You’ve known Freddie since childhood and you stopped bothering to dress up. You deserve this—you deserve to be cheated on.

Maybe this was the kind of woman he liked. Maybe if I tried, I could be like her again.

After all, before I married him, I had been even more pure and youthful than she was.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly noticed the woman pick up Freddie’s phone. She tapped a few buttons and easily unlocked it.

My stomach tightened.

How careless can he be? I thought bitterly. That phone contains important documents. How could he let her touch it so freely? What if she’s some kind of corporate spy, planning to steal trade secrets and ruin him?

My son, my daughter and I still depended on him for everything.

I rushed forward, trying to snatch the phone back.

But the woman didn’t seem to notice me at all, not even lifting her head.

Helplessly, I watched as she scrolled through the call log and began deleting the missed calls.

Every single one of them was from the same person—my wife.

I froze, staring blankly at the screen.

When had I made so many calls to Freddie?

The first was at 9 p.m., followed by two more. Then, half an hour later, I began calling again, every few minutes. One after another.

Her delicate hands, with perfectly manicured nails, tapped quickly across the screen as she deleted them. But she didn’t erase them all—only the later ones. She left the first three intact.

Instinctively, I reached into my pocket—only to find it empty.

My phone was gone. I must have lost it somewhere.

At that moment, Aiden tugged at my hand. “Mom, my stomach hurts.”

I immediately pushed everything else aside, took his hand firmly and said, “Let’s go find Dad.”

In the kitchen, Freddie stood bent over the stove, cooking porridge.

He wore a light gray pajama set and his hand stirred the pot slowly with a spoon. His expression was distracted, distant.

I reached out and tapped his shoulder.

“Aiden’s stomach hurts. Go to the garage and get the car. We need to take him to the hospital.”

But Freddie didn’t respond. He kept staring out the window at the falling snow, silent.

My temper flared. “Hey! Even if we’re in a cold war, you can ignore me if you want. But you still have to take care of your child. You’re his father, after all.”

Suddenly, Freddie turned off the stove and spun around.

For a moment, I thought he had finally come to his senses. But instead of listening to me, he walked straight toward the bedroom.

The woman lay lazily wrapped in the blankets. When she saw him enter, she opened her arms, ready to embrace him.

But Freddie brushed past her and reached for his phone.

Leaning closer, I saw what he was doing—he was calling me.

The call rang and rang, but no one answered. His brows knit together in a frown.

I let out a heavy sigh.

“You idiot. My phone is gone. Of course I can’t answer your call. I’m standing right here in front of you—why can’t you just speak to me directly?”

As Freddie prepared to dial again, the woman slipped out from under the blankets and wound her arms around his neck.

Smiling sweetly, she cooed, “Freddie, don’t you see what time it is? It’s almost midnight. My sister-in-law is with the kids—they must have gone to bed early. Can’t you just talk to her tomorrow?”

Freddie hesitated, then lowered his phone without making the second call.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said helplessly, “I shouldn’t have ignored her earlier. She’ll be angry for sure this time. I’m afraid she’ll make a scene again.”

The woman looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Didn’t you say my sister-in-law is easy to please? What, are you scared she’ll divorce you?”

Freddie’s response was immediate. “She won’t.”

His gaze hardened as he looked at her. “And besides money, don’t even think about anything else.”

For a fleeting moment, a shadow darkened the woman’s eyes.

“I know. I don’t want to replace her. I just want to be with you here, at your house, at least once. It’s almost New Year’s—you can bring them back for the reunion then.”

She blinked, her expression pitiful.

“Freddie, every time we do it in a hotel, I feel like a prostitute.”

Freddie said nothing.

Meanwhile, Aiden cried again, clutching his stomach and whining in pain.

Panic rose in me. I hurried him back to the room and searched the living room for medicine.

But no matter how hard I tried, my hands couldn’t grasp anything.

My five-month-old daughter, Kinsey Tyler, lay sleeping soundly. She hadn’t eaten in a long time, yet no matter how much I shook her, I couldn’t wake her.

I paced the room frantically as light began to stream in from outside.

It was dawn.

Before six o’clock, Freddie got up, washed and sat in the living room, staring blankly into space.

At seven, he tried calling me again.

“Are you out of your mind?” I snapped. “I told you my phone is lost—you can’t reach me. Why didn’t you come find me?”

The words slipped from my lips and then I froze.

I was right here. Why would I want Freddie to come find me?

Or… had I been subconsciously waiting for him all along?

I sat quietly beside him, watching as his frustration grew with every failed attempt to reach me.

Then, a video call came through. Freddie answered it quickly.

“Freddie!”

My mother-in-law’s broad smile filled the screen.

“Mom,” Freddie greeted, though a flicker of disappointment flashed in his eyes.

“Freddie, it’s the eve of the New Year in two days. Your dad, Prilly and I will be coming home this afternoon. I brought gifts for Emma and the two little ones. Are they still awake?”

My mother-in-law loved to travel. Not long ago, she had taken my father-in-law and Prilly to Bali.

“It’s too early, Mom,” Freddie replied after a pause. “She usually sleeps until nine or ten. Didn’t you forget?”

Before she could respond, a young girl suddenly leaned into the camera, her face full of worry.

“Brother, I can’t get through to my sister-in-law.”

It was my younger sister-in-law, Prilly, a sophomore in college. Since Freddie and I had known each other from childhood, Prilly practically grew up clinging to me. Out of everyone, she and I were the closest.

Her eyes brimmed with concern. “My sister-in-law has never ignored my calls before.”

Freddie fell silent for a moment.

“She argued with me yesterday,” he finally said. “She might still be upset. Once she wakes up, I’ll have her call you back.”

“What? How could you argue with her?” Prilly exclaimed dramatically. “My sister-in-law is so gentle and kind-hearted. Don’t you dare scold her!”

Freddie’s lips curled faintly, his expression softening. “I know. She doesn’t hold grudges. When will you arrive? I’ll come pick you up.”

“Oh, no need, no need,” my mother-in-law said with a wave of her hand. “Little Kinsey is only five months old. Why trouble yourself? Just stay home and wait for us.”

As soon as the call ended, Aiden came out, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

His face lit up. “Mom, are Grandpa and Grandma coming back?”

I ruffled his hair and nodded, my heart warming.

“Yes. Our family is going to be together again.”

By nine o’clock, Freddie still hadn’t managed to reach me.

Meanwhile, the woman had finished applying her makeup carefully. She slipped her arms around Freddie’s waist from behind, clinging like a water snake.

“Freddie, Auntie and the others are coming back this afternoon. We won’t be able to meet during the New Year, so let’s make the most of our time. Let’s do it a few more times.”

Freddie pushed her hands away. “She hasn’t answered her phone and I’m worried. I need to go check on her.”

But the woman pressed her body tightly against his.

“Your sister-in-law is just sulking. If you go now, won’t you just face her cold expression again?”

Her eyes shimmered with sorrow. “Freddie, I don’t want to let you go.”

He looked at her for a moment, then scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom.

I clutched my chest.

It hurt.

The two of them tangled together again—on my bed.

Rage consumed me. I leapt at them, clawing to pull them apart.

“Freddie, don’t you have any shame? This is my house—my bed!

Take this woman and get out!”