Chapter 3

I got home after work.

The lights were off, but candles were lit throughout the apartment.

The dining table was covered in a fancy lace tablecloth we rarely used, set with steaks and red wine.

Chloe stood there wearing a stunning, backless black evening gown, her makeup flawless.

Seeing me walk in, she immediately rushed over to take my briefcase.

"You're home, honey!"

"I know you've been under a lot of stress at work lately, so I prepared a candlelit dinner for us."

She pulled me to the table and poured me a glass of wine.

The flickering candlelight danced across the face of the woman I had loved for five years.

If this were yesterday, I would have been deeply touched.

"What's all this for?" I asked, cutting into a medium-rare steak, watching the red juices run.

"I just... felt like I've been neglecting you lately," Chloe said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Honey, I know you're still upset about the nightgown."

"I swear to you, you're the only man I love. No matter what happens, my heart belongs to you."

She reached across the table and placed her hand over mine.

Her palm was sweaty, trembling slightly.

She was terrified.

Of what? That I'd find out? Or that Carter was pushing her too hard?

I stared at her for a few seconds.

"Chloe, if..."

Before I could finish testing her, her phone on the table began to buzz violently.

Chloe flinched as if burned, snatching the phone.

When she saw the caller ID, all the color drained from her face.

She declined the call.

Immediately, it buzzed again. This time, it was a FaceTime video call.

"Who is it? Why aren't you answering?" I asked, putting down my fork, playing dumb.

"Oh... just a spam caller. So annoying."

Chloe hurriedly declined it again and flipped the phone face-down on the table.

"Honey, my stomach suddenly hurts. I need to use the restroom."

She grabbed her phone and bolted into the bathroom.

Through the locked door, I couldn't hear her voice.

But I knew it was Carter.

I pulled out my own phone and opened an app.

It was for a new drone I bought a few days ago, equipped with night vision and auto-tracking.

Five minutes later, Chloe emerged.

She had stripped off the evening gown and was now in a tracksuit and a baseball cap.

"Honey, my friend Lily just texted me. She just broke up with her boyfriend and got completely wasted at a bar. I need to go pick her up."

Her acting was terrible. She couldn't even look me in the eye.

"It's late. Let me drive you," I said, standing up.

"No, no!" Chloe reacted violently, taking a step back. "I'll just grab an Uber. You have work tomorrow, you should sleep early."

With that, she grabbed her keys from the entryway and rushed out the door.

I didn't move. I sat quietly at the table, picking up my drone controller.

The drone, parked on the balcony, lifted off silently into the night.

On the controller screen, I watched her run out of our apartment building.

She didn't call an Uber.

Instead, that familiar black Maybach was idling in the shadows near the back gate of our complex.

Chloe opened the passenger door and slid inside.

The car didn't drive off immediately.

Through the night-vision camera, I watched the two silhouettes in the front seat immediately tangle together.

The wife I had cherished like a precious treasure was climbing onto another man's lap, kissing him passionately.

I shut off the screen.

My heart was completely dead.