My Pregnant Wife Insisted on a Business TripChapter 3

I can barely recognize this face anymore.

We first met five years ago. A rainy night. Outside a convenience store.

She'd been kicked out by her landlord for not paying rent. She was curled up in a corner, soaked to the bone.

I held my umbrella over her and brought her back to my tiny rental.

That night, I cooked her instant noodles. She cradled the bowl and drank every drop of broth.

She looked up, eyes red, full of trust.

"Liam, can I be your wife? Let's never be apart."

After I got paid, I'd buy her roasted sweet potatoes from a street stand.

She'd break one in half and feed it to me, her mouth smudged with ash, her eyes crescent moons when she smiled.

That was Samantha when she was with me. Simple, poor, but her eyes shone.

She'd hold me from behind, her face pressed to my back, arms around my waist.

"Liam! I want to be with you forever!"

Three years married. Five years together. I treated her like a princess.

I gave her my whole paycheck. Did all the chores. Never forgot a holiday gift.

We'd traveled to every corner of the country together.

After she got pregnant and her feet swelled, I massaged them for half an hour every night.

When she craved the pizza from across town at midnight, I'd drive there without a second thought.

I held her in the palm of my hand.

And she trampled me into the dirt.

I don't understand. I really don't.

Wasn't I good to her?

Why did Samantha become like this?

Just as they were about to enter the building, I sent Samantha a text from my own phone.

"Honey, did you get to the airport? Did you get your boarding pass?"

Less than a minute later, she replied.

A photo of her in an airplane seat.

Blue sky and white clouds outside the window. She held a cup of orange juice. No makeup.

If I weren't standing outside the club right now, I would've believed it completely.

The photo was obviously Photoshopped ahead of time. Or an old one from her gallery.

Then came a voice message.

I played it. Her voice was sickeningly sweet.

"Just sat down. The baby kicked me. Babe, make sure you eat well, okay?"

"Bad signal. I'm turning my phone off. I'll text you when I land."

I listened to that voice message over and over.

She's got one man on her arm while pacifying the fool at home.

Does she get off on playing two men like this?

I let out a cold laugh.

But tears betrayed me, streaming down my face.

I wiped my face and pulled up the tracking app on the backup phone.

Last night, while she slept, I'd installed a hidden GPS program on that phone.

I didn't dare check the chat history. Afraid I'd lose control and strangle her on the spot.

Even if she was just sexting people online, for the baby's sake, I could play dumb.

The red dot blinked.

The location showed she was in the building right in front of me.

Moving fast. The dot finally stopped on the 8th floor.