The room was dead quiet, the only sound was the door clicking shut. He knew everyone had left. He dashed to her room and locked the door behind him. "No, I'm scared."
"Don't worry, I'm here."
The phone rang, and Edward Howard's icy voice came through, "Anne's in the hospital. Bring me some clean clothes; they don't have any here."
I was stunned and quickly asked, "What happened? Is she okay?" But the line went dead.
Four years of marriage to Edward had inured me to his icy demeanor. When I got to the hospital, I didn't know the room number, and neither of them answered their phones. I had to ask a nurse, only to find out there was no one named Anne. I anxiously wandered the halls until I spotted a familiar figure in the crowd. It was Edward.
I called out and ran towards him, "How's Anne? Why didn't you answer the phone?" Edward, ever the aloof man, stood there expressionless and said flatly, "Just give me the clothes and go home."
All this way, just to play delivery girl? Surely a servant could have handled this.
I asked, "What illness does Anne have? I'm really worried."
"It's not serious, don't worry."
Was he hiding the truth to keep me from worrying? Later, I realized I was grasping at straws.
Edward's lips curled into a barely noticeable smile, then he grabbed the things from my hands without another word and left without looking back.
I stood there, lost in thought. Could Anne have a terminal illness? I went back to the nurse's station to ask again. After much effort, I finally found out she had an "anal fissure," and the doctor added, "It's suspected to be caused by sexual activity." Upon hearing this, my head spun, and I nearly fainted.
Anne didn't have a boyfriend, at least not that I knew of. But her injury…and the fact that my husband brought her to the hospital under a false name… What were they hiding?
I thanked the nurse and left in a daze. The nurses whispered behind me, "These kids today…reckless. Then they come crawling to us to clean up their messes."
I wandered the hospital corridors, wanting to go home but feeling unwilling. I wanted to go to the hospital room but was also afraid of the truth.
In the end, I decided to check it out. I walked slowly, thinking as I went. Anne York had no blood relation to the Howard Family. Her mother, Clara York, was Edward's stepmother. Clara had brought Anne with her when she married his father. And at that time, Anne was five, and Edward was thirteen. They had grown up together.
After I married Edward, Anne suddenly said she didn't want to live with her parents in the old house and insisted on living with us. So, our marital home always had three people. It was really strange.
I wondered how I had agreed to this in the first place. Over the years, I had often seen Anne clinging to Edward's neck, acting spoiled. I naively thought they were just close siblings, but now…what had transpired when no one was watching?
I didn't dare think further and stumbled to the hospital room door. Through the glass, I saw Anne lying in bed, her face pale and tear-streaked. She was holding Edward's hand, saying something pitifully. Edward sat by the bed, leaning slightly forward as if comforting her. But with his back to the door, I couldn't see his expression or hear his voice, but I could sense his concern.
I gripped the door handle but didn't turn it, eventually letting go.
What could I do if I barged in now? Cause a scene? No, that would be too irrational.
In families like ours, especially those united for economic interests, maintaining appearances was crucial. I could lose love, but I couldn't lose my dignity.
Before we got married, my friends warned me over and over that there was no love in arranged marriages. But I was naive back then, thinking Edward truly loved me.
Then my dad passed away, and my mom struggled to keep the family business going. I wanted to help, but I had no knack for business.
So, the company needed Edward's help. If I caused a scene based on mere suspicion, our already shaky marriage might not survive. My rational mind told me to go home. With no one there, I had a chance to find clues.
I decided to search Anne's room. Girls have lots of secrets, and there had to be some clues in her room.
But I was wrong. Her room was surprisingly bare – no books, no journals, no telltale diary tucked away.
The only thing on the vanity was a photo, an old, yellowing photo that stood out against the room's luxurious decor. It didn't seem like it belonged there.
But this odd photo was Anne's treasure.
In the photo, young Anne leaned against a tall Edward. It was taken on Anne's first day at the Howard Family. Edward, already a young man, looked handsome but sullen, clearly unwilling to take the photo but still cooperating with Anne.
So, this became Anne's favorite photo.
I searched the room several times but found nothing. This didn't seem like a student's room, but for Anne, it was normal. She was unambitious, often skipped classes in college, and her biggest hobby was probably spending money.
Whenever Anne ran out of money, she would cling to Edward's arm and act spoiled to get more.
If anyone else did this, it might be annoying, but not Anne. She was cute, weighing 140 pounds and standing 5 feet tall, petite like a little potato, and her smile was like a doll from an anime.
Even I couldn't help but give her an extra $20,000 in pocket money.
But now, I regretted it.
Unwilling to give up, I went to Edward's study and even searched the safe, but found nothing.
At 3 a.m., I was online, searching "how to find evidence of a husband's affair."
The tips from netizens didn't suit a family like mine.
After tossing and turning in bed, I finally texted Edward, [Honey, are you coming home tonight?]
Why did I text Edward? Because I wanted to use Edward's concern for me as evidence that he wasn't cheating. Deep down, I couldn't accept that Edward was having an affair, especially not with his sister Anne.
But I also knew Edward wouldn't come home. He would stay with Anne all night.
To my surprise, Edward replied instantly. Though it was just a cold "yes," it was enough to make me ecstatic.
I immediately changed into my sexiest lingerie and sat on the living room sofa, waiting for Edward to see me as soon as he walked in. I wanted to cherish this rare moment of being alone together.
But my plan failed again. Time passed, and Edward never came home.
Edward had lied to me.
I clutched my phone, tears falling onto the screen.
Half-asleep, I felt someone shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Edward's handsome face.
I sat up from the sofa, the blanket slipping off, revealing my carefully adorned self. I gently asked, "Honey, are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?"
Edward hesitated, then quickly picked me up and carried me to the bedroom upstairs.
I kissed Edward's Adam's apple, a mix of innocence and seduction, saying, "Honey, I want you."
But Edward didn't make love to me.
"Put on some clothes, don't catch a cold." Edward placed me on the bed. With that, he turned into the bathroom.
My heart shattered. He could be passionate, attentive…with her. But with me, his own wife, it was an unbearable chore.
The passion quickly faded. Leaning against the cold wall, I slowly calmed down. My brain, no longer driven by lust, began to think clearly. I decided to test him again.