It was already nine o'clock at night.
Evan hadn't come home again.
Zoe stared blankly at her phone's contact list, yet she refrained from dialing the number, eventually slipping the device back into her pocket without a flicker of emotion.
The dishes on the table had been reheated twice and were now cold once more.
She scooped half a bowl of rice, chewing and swallowing tastelessly alongside the chilled leftovers, the cavernous living room echoing only with the sounds of her own consumption.
She ate sparingly, leaving much behind, discarding each dish without a second thought into the bin.
This was almost a daily routine, yet she still held onto the hope of him coming home for dinner.
Then came the task of washing the plates and bowls.
Her phone, left on the coffee table, suddenly rang, her eyes lighting up as she hurriedly dried her hands and jogged over.
Usually, it was only Evan who would call her.
Zoe felt a twinge of disappointment, her brows furrowing in suspicion at the unfamiliar number she'd never seen before. After a moment's hesitation, she answered.
"Hello? Hi?"
There was no response.
"Hello?" Zoe moistened her dry lips, repeating herself.
Two seconds passed before she pulled the phone away from her ear, checking the number once more to confirm its unfamiliarity.
Had it been a wrong number?
She lifted it to her ear again, this time hearing faint rustling on the other end, followed by a soft giggle from a woman.
Zoe's frown deepened.
"Who is this?" she asked.
No answer came, save for what sounded like a door opening.
Just as she was about to hang up, the woman spoke, "Are you done washing up?"
The voice was sickly sweet, almost making Zoe's skin crawl.
"Mm, go ahead and wash up," replied a voice that pierced Zoe's ears like thunder.
Zoe froze.
That voice...it couldn't belong to anyone but her husband, Evan.
The woman giggled again, and then the line went dead.
Was this a deliberate provocation?
Zoe's gaze dimmed, her face visibly paling.
She clenched the phone tightly, her fingertips turning white, head bowed as she stood motionless for a few minutes before finally putting down the phone and resuming her dishwashing.
She had known all along that he was seeing someone else, yet she'd blinded herself, comforting herself with lies, convincing herself that he was just too busy with work.
Busy...too busy even to pick up the phone.
Zoe smirked bitterly.
Her eyes stung with unbidden tears.
She washed the dishes absently, drying them before placing them in the sterilizer.
After a shower, she lay in bed reading the instructions for the medicine she'd picked up that day, not missing a single word.
It was medication for her stomach, which seemed to be worsening; the frequency of her pain increasing lately, sometimes leaving her doubled over in agony.
The doctor had suggested a gastroscopy, but she stubbornly refused, insisting on just taking medication. The doctor, helpless, prescribed the pills.
Only after reading the instructions twice did she get out of bed to fetch some water.
As she swallowed the pills, she paused, remembering how...how even the slightest headache would worry Evan so much that he'd hold her, soothing and massaging her.
But now?
He was with another woman.
Ultimately, everything had changed; he had changed, completely and utterly.
Snapping back to reality, the medicine dissolved in Zoe's mouth, its bitterness surging up to her head, causing her eyes to squint. She hastily gulped down water but choked due to the haste.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
She coughed uncontrollably, bending over to pat her chest, a bit of water trickling from her nose.
One hand on the table for support, she grabbed tissues with the other, wiping the water from around her mouth and nose, then another to dab at the tears that had welled up during the coughing fit.
Back in bed, Zoe glanced at the empty space beside her, her chest tight with sorrow, the woman's voice from the call still echoing in her mind.
She lapsed into another trance, staying there for a full thirty minutes.
Eventually, she came back to herself, reaching out to switch off the light.
Zoe suffered insomnia that night, tossing and turning until dawn, when she finally drifted into a restless slumber.
