I thought that using infidelity to get back at Aldric would bring me some satisfaction, but instead, the pain only intensified. Not only did the hurt not lessen, but the irritation only grew.
I told myself I was broken, and the fury that surged inside me made me want to strangle Cedric. But even the briefest touch of intimacy made me disgusted, and I ended up vomiting into the toilet again.
In the end, I did nothing.
I let Cedric stay with me, drinking all night.
The dark sky slowly lightened. When I woke up, my head was splitting with pain, and Cedric grabbed my wrist. He asked, with unyielding persistence, "When are you getting a divorce?"
I sighed. Trying to reason with this man was impossible. Fatigued, I replied, "Now." I had walked this path to Cypress Mansion countless times, but today, everything felt chaotic, bittersweet.
I pushed open the door, and Aldric grabbed my hand anxiously. "Why are you so cold? Where have you been, Yamilet?"
I pulled my hand away from his grip. "Stop pretending. Didn't you want me to help you get what you wanted? Let's just get the divorce."
"I'm not divorcing you." Aldric looked at me with a defeated expression. "Yamilet, I was really drunk last night. I didn't sleep with Vivienne."
I let out a mocking laugh.
Cedric leaned over my shoulder, peering at him. "So, you two are just regular friends—kissing, hugging, she makes you dinner, and you fight for her.'"
I looked at him in surprise—so he could talk.
Aldric stopped smiling. His eyes turned cold, like ice forming in his gaze.
"Did you spend the night with him?"
Cedric casually adjusted his scarf, revealing a bruise that looked remarkably like a hickey. "Hard to believe?"
"Damn!"
Aldric's fury exploded. He grabbed Cedric by the collar and slammed him against the wall, throwing a punch. Cedric had clearly been holding back his anger for a long time and quickly retaliated.
I smelled the faint scent of blood in the air, and oddly, I felt a surge of satisfaction as the two men fought. Neither of them were good people.
One was fickle, the other took advantage of an opportunity.
I crossed my arms and watched for a while, then went back to the bedroom, grabbed my ID and passport. I didn't touch anything else in the room—I couldn't bear it.
Everything was waiting for the lawyer to handle the property division. I'd make sure he cashed everything out and gave it to me.
Except for Sammy.
I opened the door to the cat room.
This large, 300-square-meter flat was usually just for Aldric and me. I had combined two of the spare bedrooms to create an enormous cat room for Sammy, my beloved cat.
Sammy was already an old cat at ten years old. She never caused trouble, always lazily resting on her cat tree. Whenever I called her name, her ears would twitch, and she'd jump down to nuzzle against my feet.
"Sammy!"
"Sammy!"
I called her name several times, and when my voice cracked with sobs, she still didn't appear.
My hands trembled as I opened the surveillance app on my phone.
At 8 PM last night, Vivienne helped the drunk Aldric back home. She was exhausted, and they both collapsed onto the sofa.
When Sammy heard the noise in the living room, she thought I had returned. She came out through the small door to nuzzle my legs, only to see a stranger. In a burst of anger, she scratched at Vivienne's ankle.
Vivienne yelped in pain.
Her sharp high heels kicked Sammy in the soft belly. I heard this, and it was like an explosion in my ears. My blood ran cold. She was just an old cat—she was nine years old! It took her a long time to regain her footing before she shakily ran out through the door that had been left ajar.
"Just ten more minutes..."
If I had returned just ten minutes earlier last night, if I had checked on the cat room and gone out to find her right away, could I have found her?
