Chapter 3
It was the first time I had seen him, normally so composed, looking so flustered and
anxious.
Without another word, he left, ignoring my obvious distress.
In the past, he would have gone out of his way to comfort me, to make me smile.
I hugged my knees, lost in memories of all our moments together.
Had Frank changed today? Or had this always been him?
The familiar notification sound rang, and I guessed it was Joanna.
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“I just tell him I am worried, and your husband came rushing to stay with me,” the message read, accompanied by a picture of Frank and her together.
At that moment, a chill ran through me, starting from my feet, and spreading ice–cold through my body. Why was he lying to me?
When we got married, we had promised to be honest with each other, to never deceive one another. It was a matter of principle.
But now, that principle had been shattered.
I scrolled through the pictures Joanna had sent of her and Frank, my heart aching more with every image. Tears blurred my vision, and my pillow was soaked with them.
It turned out Frank had learned to cook for her. The habits he’d encouraged me to
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develop–those were her habits too.
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was already 3 a.m. Frank still hadn’t come home and hadn’t sent a single message. I fell into a restless sleep, overwhelmed by heartbreak.
The sharp sound of an alarm startled me awake.
“Honey, turn off your phone,” I called out instinctively, reaching for his side of the bed–but it was empty. It seemed he hadn’t returned all night.
Instantly, I was wide awake, a headache pounding in my skull. Frank had always taken such good care of me; it had been so long since I had felt this exhausted.
I glanced at my phone. Frank had sent a message.
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“Anna, I’m heading to work now. You can grab breakfast outside, I don’t have time to make it for you.”
Had he come home last night? Was I losing my memory?
“When did you get home last night?” I asked, confused.
He replied quickly, “2 a.m. You were already asleep.”
Ha, lying to me again.
Normally, I would have been asleep by this time, but last night I didn’t fall asleep until 3
a.m.
I hastily gathered my things and drove to work.
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My mind was a mess. I couldn’t understand why Frank was treating me this way.
Suddenly, “bang“-I wasn’t paying attention and crashed into a tree.
Pain shot through my head, and I felt warmth trickling down. Out of habit, I tried calling Frank, but no one answered. I tried three times with no success.
Fighting to stay conscious, I dialed 911.
The next time I woke up, everything around me was white. My head throbbed, and I felt dizzy and nauseous.
“You’re awake. You should contact your family. You’ve had eight stitches in your head and a moderate concussion. You’ll need to stay in the hospital, the nurse said, looking
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at me.
“I see.” I replied.
I called Frank again. Still no answer.
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