Chapter 0005: Weight of Unspoken Truths

An uneasy feeling washed over me. I hesitated for a moment, then walked over and picked it up. The screen lit up, revealing no lock screen, no passwords.

My heart raced when I heard the sound of the door behind my back. I quickly dropped it, causing a small sound.

He walked straight to me, trying to take off his shirt. “Thank you for the dinner,” he said, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

“You're welcome,” I replied, forcing a smile on my face, but as soon as I left his side, the smile faded away.

“I will go and wash first,” he said as he turned his face towards the bathroom.

“Okay,” I replied watching as he entered the bathroom.

I glanced towards the door, ensuring I was alone. My hands shook slightly as I swiped to unlock the phone. The home screen appeared, and I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I might find.

I navigated to his call logs first, scrolling through the familiar name. Then, to his messages, I found nothing suspicious. It took me almost 15 seconds to think of the next things I needed to check until I remembered his gallery.

I pressed the gallery icon, scrolling through; it was all the pictures of Williams, him, and me.

I was about to drop it until the notification sound and a message appeared. My pulse quickened as I tapped on the conversation.

“We hope to see you again on another beautiful night.” The message was short, but it was clear I haven't gone out with him.

My mind buzzed with questions. How long has this been going on? Who did he go with? I felt a mix of anger and sadness, the betrayal cutting deeper than I had imagined.

I put the phone down, my mind rolling with the suspicion that had been gnawing at me for so long, a painful reality. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling numb. The evidence was there, undeniable and inescapable.

***

“And you went through his clothes and cell phone? Just because of that hair?” My friend, Amara, with whom we are working together, asked after having narrated the whole scene to her.

“Why did he hide the fact that he got a new secretary for an entire year?” I drop the coffee on the table, letting my mind be on our discussion. “Isn't it weird?”

“I don't think he meant to hide it. He probably just didn't tell you. Or maybe he told you, but you just forgot.” She placed the coffee cup on her mouth, drinking out of her coffee.

I put my hands on my hindbrain, resting my back on the couch. “I'm bothered by the fact that she's a divorce.”

Amara took a deep breath. “Not all divorcees have affairs with married men.”

“I heard he always gets off work at 5 pm.” I sat probably, letting her know what I was feeling. “But he told me he gets off work at 7 p.m." I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

As I spoke, I leaned closer to her, seeking comfort in her presence. But to my surprise, she subtly moved back, creating a small distance between us.

“He lied to me, so that must mean he's doing something during these two hours.”

Amara reached out to place a reassuring hand on my knee. “Then that means the secretary is innocent. You told me she goes straight to school to pick up her kid.”

I nodded, taking a shaky breath. “I'm bothered by Mia as well,” I said, itching in the middle of my head.

She looked away for a moment, then back at me, her expression conflicted. “My goodness. I can't believe you're even suspicious of Henry's wife.”

I nodded, my brow furrowing. “Isn't it also weird that he doesn't keep his cell phone locked? It's as if he wanted me to take a look. Do you think he noticed that I'm suspicious of him?”

“Oh, my gosh. What you're doing right now isn't normal. You know that, right?”

I admitted, leaning back.

“Is that how it seems?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Did you get some sleep? I think you're being oversensitive,” she said, her voice softening.

“I really hope you're right.”

“You should get some sleep. Don't work too hard. I'm seriously worried,” she said quietly, standing up. “I guess it's also hard to live with a handsome husband. But then again, we're all in our 40’s, but Noah is the only one who still looks like he's in his 30’s,” she said, making her way to the door.

As the door closed behind her, I dropped the coffee, my mind swirling with confusion and doubt as I made my way to my office to attend to the patient.

I sat at my desk, my mind barely registering the words of the patient sitting across from me. My eyes kept darting to the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes to 5 p.m. My hands were restless, fingers tapping lightly on the desk as I tried to maintain a facade of attentiveness.

The patient, a middle-aged man with persistent itching, continued to describe his symptoms. I nodded and jotted down notes, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I had made up my mind to follow my husband after work to see where he went and confirm the suspicions that had been eating me.

The clock showed 4:30pm. My heart pounded with a mix of anxiety and determination. I needed to be out of here. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity.

“Doctor, are you refusing to treat me?” The patient asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I snapped back to the present, forcing a smile. “No, that not it. I don't feel so well today.” I quickly wrapped up the consultation, giving him a prescription and some advice as I practically removed my white coat and hung it on the coat rack.

The moment the door closed behind him, I grabbed my things, hastily stuffing them into my bag. I glanced at the clock again—5pm Perfect timing.

I bolted out of my office, nearly colliding with the receptionist. “I don't have any more patients, do I?” I blurted out.

“You're done for the day, but you need to sign a few documents,” the receptionist handed the document to me.

“I will get it down at home. Tell the director that I went home because something urgent came up,” I blurted out, not waiting for her response.

“Okay. Bye, Dr.,” she started, but I was already halfway down the hall.

As I reached the exit, I ran into Amara, my friend and colleague. She looked surprised to see you in such a hurry. “Where are you going?” She asked, concerned in her eyes.

I passed through her muttering, not saying a word, and I could feel her gaze following me, but I didn't stop.

I burst out of the building, practically sprinting to my car. The drive to my husband's office was crazy, my mind racing with what I might find. I parked a discreet distance under a tree, away and waited. My heart is pounding in my chest.

“Mia, I'm sorry. I still have some work left; can you look after William after he's done with his piano lesson?” I spotted him coming out of the building, and I quickly wore my seat belt.

“Yes, feel free to take your time. Don't worry and do what you need to do,” she said plainly.

“Thank you. I'll see you later.” I hung up the call and placed my phone down on the next seat.