Grace Windsor wondered if all cheating men had two phones. Her husband, Henry Montague, was cheating on her.
While Henry was in the shower, his mistress sent a selfie and a thank-you message.
[Mr. Montague, thank you for the birthday gift.]
The photo showed a young girl in a wheelchair, dressed in fancy clothes that didn't suit her age, making her look awkward.
Grace had always suspected someone was involved with Henry, but she hadn't expected it to be a girl like this. Besides the heartache, she was also surprised by her husband's poor taste.
She heard the bathroom door open behind her. Moments later, Henry came out, still damp, wrapped in a white bathrobe that highlighted his chiseled abs and firm chest, looking sexy and alluring.
"How long are you going to keep looking?" Henry took his phone from Grace's hand, glanced at her, and began to get dressed.
Henry showed no sign of embarrassment when Grace caught him. Grace knew his confidence came from his financial power, as she had become a mere kept woman at home despite her past fame as a renowned violinist.
Grace chose not to confront Henry about the photo; she couldn't bring herself to do so, despite knowing about his infidelity.
Last year, her family had faced tough times. Her brother was accused and imprisoned, and her father's sudden illness required over $100,000 a month for treatment. Grace found herself needing Henry's financial support.
Without that money, Grace would be completely finished.
Seeing that he was about to leave, she quickly spoke up, "Henry, I need to talk to you."
Henry looked at Grace, probably recalling her submissive posture in bed earlier, and chuckled, "Want to have sex again?"
He had never cared about Grace. Their marriage was just the result of an accident. Moreover, he extremely disliked that accident.
Henry looked away, picked up a Patek Philippe watch from the bedside table, and put it on his wrist, speaking indifferently, "You have five minutes. The driver is waiting downstairs."
Grace guessed Henry was going to see his mistress, her eyes darkening. "Henry, I want to go back to work."
Henry fastened the watch strap and looked at Grace for a long moment. He took out a check from his pocket, wrote down a number, tore it off, and handed it to her. "Here's $100,000. Don't make a fuss. Work isn't your thing."
With that, he was about to leave.
Grace chased after him, lowering her stance, stating, "I don't mind the hardship! I want to work. I can play the violin."
Henry had no patience to listen.
In his mind, Grace was like a delicate canary, accustomed to being kept, not suitable for exposure or hardship.
He glanced at his watch. "Time's up!"
He left without a second thought. Grace couldn't stop him and only managed to ask as he grabbed the doorknob, "It's my father's birthday on Saturday. Do you have time?"
Henry paused and said, "I don't know."
With that, he turned and left.
A few minutes later, the maids came upstairs. They knew Henry and Grace had a rocky relationship, so they said, "Mr. Montague has important business in Harmony City. Also, the company just delivered a batch of Mr. Montague's clothes. Mrs. Montague, should we send them to the laundry, or will you take care of washing and ironing them yourself?"
Sitting on the sofa, Grace took a moment to collect herself. Softly, she said, "I'll wash them by hand."
Henry didn't like the smell of dry-cleaning solvents, so all of his clothes, including suits and coats, were almost always hand-washed and ironed by Grace.
Besides that, Henry had other high standards. He didn't like outside food, nor any clutter in the bedroom. So Grace learned to cook, organize, and arrange flowers, gradually becoming the perfect housewife.
Grace's life almost entirely revolved around Henry, yet she knew deep down that he didn't truly love her. To him, she was merely a plaything, a pawn in his game.
Grace looked down at the check. How could she cash this check? Every time she went home, her stepmother, Clara Smith, would complain that she took too little from Henry.
"He's the president of the Montague Pharmaceutical Group, worth billions. Grace, you're his wife. Isn't what's his also yours? You're taking too little money," Clara always complained.
Grace smiled bitterly. How could Henry's money be hers?
Henry didn't love her and was often distant. Their marriage lacked emotional connection; it was purely physical. He even prevented her from having his child, consistently reminding her to take birth control pills before they were intimate.
Yes, she had to take birth control pills. Grace reached for the bottle, poured out a pill, and swallowed it numbly.
After taking the pill, she opened a small drawer gently. Inside was a thick diary, filled with 18-year-old Grace's love for Henry. Six years of devotion, she had loved him for six long years! Grace closed her eyes abruptly.
She didn't wait for Henry to come back. On Friday night, the Windsor family had a major incident.
News came out that the Windsor family's eldest son, Oliver Windsor, Grace's older brother, might be sentenced to ten years for the Windsor Group's financial case. Ten years could destroy a person.
That night, upon hearing the news, Grace's father had a stroke and was hospitalized. His condition was critical and required immediate surgery.
Grace rushed over upon hearing the news. Standing in the hospital corridor, she kept calling Henry, but no one answered after several attempts. Just as she was about to give up, Henry sent her a message.