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On the day of the parent-teacher meeting at our daughter's school, my husband Lance Cox claimed he was on a business trip.
Yet, in the blink of an eye, I saw him sitting in the classroom next door, attending the meeting for his ex-girlfriend's daughter.
The little girl kept expressing her love to him, "Daddy, I love you."
1
When I dialed Lance's number for the third time, he finally picked up.
"What's up? I'm busy on a business trip right now," he said, his voice hurried and distracted.
I glanced at my daughter, Hanna Cox, who was sitting in the classroom with an expectant look on her face. My heart ached as I replied, "Today is the parent-teacher meeting. You promised Hanna you'd be here."
There was a long pause before he spoke again.
"Honey, you know how crazy things are at work right now. I'm about to board a plane. I trust you can handle it. We'll talk when I get back." He added, almost as an afterthought, "I'll take Hanna to the amusement park to make it up to her when I'm back."
The call ended abruptly, leaving only the dial tone in my ear, deepening my disappointment in him.
We'd been married for ten years, and Hanna was six, yet the number of times he'd been there for her could be counted on one hand.
I sighed softly, slipping my phone back into my pocket, trying to figure out how to soften the blow for Hanna.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lance sitting in the classroom next door.
He was holding a little girl in his arms, her tiny hands wrapped tightly around his neck.
Suddenly, a pair of delicate hands handed the girl a lollipop. Following those hands, my gaze slowly moved upward.
The moment I saw the woman, my breath hitched as I recognized the woman standing beside them.
That was Jane Fleck, Lance's ex-girlfriend.
The little girl in his arms looked up at him with adoration, her voice sugary sweet as she said, "Daddy, I love you."
Lance, my husband, smiled warmly and replied, "Daddy loves you more than anything."
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. I stood there, frozen, as the scene unfolded before me.
I remembered Lance mentioning Jane a month ago, casually dropping her name into conversation as if it meant nothing.
"It's such a coincidence. She's now the head of the company we're partnering with," he had said. "After ten years, she hasn't changed much. She's really taken care of herself."
At that time, I paused slightly, knowing all too well how deeply in love they once were.
I put down my fork, looking up at him. He seemed to finally notice my unease and abruptly stopped talking about Jane.
"Honey, don't overthink it. We broke up ten years ago, and she already has a child now, " he assured me. "Though I heard she got divorced because of marital issues."
Even then, I sensed it. Lance never truly let go of Jane.
Otherwise, how would he remember so clearly that they broke up ten years ago?
How would he know she had a child and even got divorced?
All of this silently told me that whether it was Lance from ten years ago or the Lance who married me ten years later, his care for Jane was something I could never match.
Even having a child together didn't change that.
Just like now, he abandoned us to choose his ex-girlfriend and her daughter.
At that moment, I suddenly realized that throughout all those days and nights, he had been using such excuses to deceive and placate me.
He didn't even know Hanna had just transferred schools; otherwise, he would have concocted a more convincing lie.
2
That night, Lance came home around ten.
When he opened the door and saw me still sitting on the sofa, he paused mid-step, his hand frozen on his tie.
"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asked, his voice casual, as if nothing was wrong.
As he walked past me, I caught the faint scent of woman's perfume clinging to him. It was subtle, but unmistakable.
He headed to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and sat down beside me.
The unfamiliar, pungent scent of her perfume hit me, and I instinctively frowned.
My mind flashed back to the parent-teacher meeting, where he had held Jane close during a parent-child game.
He had no idea I was standing upstairs, watching as Jane pretended to twist her ankle and fall onto the lawn. Lance had rushed to her side, gently scooping her up and placing her on a nearby chair.
"Aren't you a bit too grown-up to be so clumsy?" he had teased, massaging her ankle with his hand.
In ten years of marriage, I had never seen him show me such tenderness and attention. It was as if I had been living in the shadow of their love, a placeholder until Jane returned.
Jane had laughed, her voice light and teasing. "It's because you're here that I let my guard down," she replied.
"You know, with you by my side, I don't have to worry about anything. I can just be a happy little girl."
She added, "That's what you used to tell me, and I remember it all."
Upon hearing this, Lance's hand had paused slightly.
He looked up at Jane, and the deep affection in their eyes was undeniable, a love as undeniable as the sky was blue.
To others, this scene might be wonderful; to me, it only made me sick.
Whether it was ten years ago or now, Jane always had a way of making Lance's heart flutter.
I picked up an orange from the table, peeled a segment, and popped it into my mouth.The sourness helped suppress the feeling of nausea.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Is there some spot on my face?"
Seeing that I was silent and just staring at him, Lance put down his cup and instinctively touched his face.
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