Chapter 3 The Lipstick in His Car

That night, I dreamed that I stabbed the pregnant woman. Blood poured down her dress, and then an unharmed baby sprang into my arms, laughing. I woke sick with horror at myself.

After that, Ethan came home later and later. For the first time in seven years, hostility settled openly between us.

After a few more days, he offered to make peace and brought me a bouquet of roses.

"Honey, forgive me."

He knelt beside the couch and gave me the pleading look that had softened me so many times before.

Before, I would have accepted his apology. Now all I could see was that woman's bulging belly.

"Let's eat before the food gets cold."

He took my hand, and the moment he touched me, my whole body went rigid.

"Honey, don't be mad at me. Cheer up."

Ethan always knew what to say.

He hugged me gently. For one weak moment, his warmth felt familiar.

"We will celebrate your birthday again in a few days, okay?"

He rested his head on my shoulder.

"You didn't like my gift? That bracelet is a bestseller, you know."

Ethan held my face. "If you don't like it, let's buy another gift, okay?"

Was it a coincidence?

Was that bracelet just a bestseller?

Relief loosened something in my chest. Had I been overthinking everything?

That weekend, Ethan took me out, saying it was to make up for my birthday.

I climbed into the passenger seat and felt something wedged behind my lower back. Reaching behind me, I pulled out a long, narrow tube.

It was an expensive lipstick that I'd always wanted to buy.

"Wow, honey, is that your surprise?"

I held the lipstick up to Ethan, who kept his eyes on the road.

I couldn't see his expression.

"What is it? I've never seen it before."

He glanced at it for less than a second.

"Maybe my colleague left it behind. I didn't know."

As if volume could make the lie convincing, Ethan raised his voice.

I turned my head, my face pale.

There were scratches all over the lipstick. It looked like it'd been used for a long time.

Just as I looked at it, I caught the familiar scent of baby soap.

"Where do you want to go?"

Ethan asked me several times before I responded.

"I want to go home."

"What?"

"I said I wanted to go home."

I turned away, jaw clenched and face burning.

Ethan frowned. "Claire, what are you mad about again?"

I reached out and tightened my grip on the handle. "I'm going to jump out of the car if you don't stop."

Ethan pulled over. I opened the door and got out of the car.

I thought he would stop me, but he drove away without hesitation and disappeared around the corner.

I sat on the roadside, tears falling.

My phone rang. It was Selena.

"I found her."

She sounded tired.

"That woman's name is Nora, Ethan's business partner."

I fought the urge to cry out. "Thank you."

Selena heard the strain in my voice. "Don't cry. Maybe Ethan doesn't take her seriously.

"I'm sending you what I found. Where are you now?"

I clenched my shaking hand. "I'm near my home. I'll tell you later."

Was I overthinking this?

But after seeing the way they touched and spoke to each other, how could I believe there was nothing between them?

It was late at night before Ethan returned. We still didn't talk to each other.

I couldn't sleep. The urge to check his phone took hold of me.

Ethan slept soundly, facing the back of the sofa.

I quietly picked up his phone and typed in my birthday.

Wrong password. I stared at the screen.

When did he change his password? Why didn't I know?

I tried Ethan's birthday next. That failed too.

I bit my lip as one possibility came to me, and I prayed I was wrong.

I opened the information Selena had sent. Nora's birthday was October 25.

I entered 1025.

The phone unlocked. The message history was empty—he had deleted everything—but the password itself told me how deeply Nora had entered his private life.