My husband, Liam, had only been gone for an hour when water started seeping again from the bathroom ceiling, a sinister drip that made my stomach churn. It was always like this since we moved into this new apartment complex. Every single time Liam left for a business trip, the upstairs apartment would start leaking. The first few times, Liam absolutely forbade me from going up there to talk to them. He said they were unreasonable, and he didn’t want me to get upset or deal with any drama. He reported it to the building management, and sure enough, the leaking would stop for a few days. But as soon as he left for another trip, the leak would start all over again. This time, I still called him first. “Liam, the ceiling is leaking again.” Maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought I heard the sound of rushing water from his end of the line. Then, Liam’s voice came through: “Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it when I get back from my trip. The people upstairs are trouble, so whatever you do, don’t go up there yourself.” I nodded, just like I always did, but my feet were already carrying me out the front door. I was going to find out just how much “trouble” those upstairs neighbors really were. 1 As I pressed the elevator button for the upstairs floor, my heart pounded with a mix of nerves and curiosity. Liam, my husband, always claimed the upstairs residents had a terrible temper, yet every time he “discussed” it with them, the problem would be “resolved” for a few days. It was just too suspicious. The elevator doors opened. I took a deep breath and walked towards their apartment door. As I approached, I could faintly hear the sound of water and a woman’s laughter from inside. I raised my hand and knocked. The noise inside suddenly stopped. But a long moment passed, and no one came to open the door. I knocked again, harder this time, and raised my voice: “Hello? I’m your downstairs neighbor. My bathroom ceiling is leaking again, and I’d like to understand what’s going on.” Still no movement inside, and the water sounds had completely stopped. A faint, lingering scent wafted out from under the door. It was a fragrance I’d never bought, yet it felt strangely familiar. My mind was a chaotic whirl, but I forced myself to wait a few more minutes. Seeing no one would open the door, I reluctantly went back downstairs to my apartment. Back home, I opened the building’s SnapChat group chat, hoping to find a contact for the upstairs neighbor, but after scrolling for ages, I found nothing. The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt, so I called building management. But even they knew very little about that particular unit. I walked onto the balcony, thinking I might be able to call out to them, but just as I poked my head out, a familiar figure flashed past. Wasn’t that Liam’s favorite gray jacket? I wanted a closer look, but even after crouching there for half an hour, no one came out onto the balcony again. Had I seen wrong? I shook my head, convinced it was just my nerves playing tricks on me, making me hallucinate. Just then, my front door lock clicked. I jumped, startled. Liam was on a business trip – who else had a key to our apartment? Could it be the upstairs residents, enraged by my visit, were coming for revenge? I grabbed the broom by the door, hid behind it, and waited, my heart hammering in my chest, for the door to open. The door slowly pushed open, and a figure walked in, holding a bouquet of roses. I froze, the broom clattering to the floor: “Liam? You’re not supposed to be back from your trip yet! What are you doing here?” Liam looked startled to see me too, then smiled and walked over: “The company had a last-minute change to the project, and then you called about the leak. I couldn’t stop worrying, so I decided to come home, and surprise you while I was at it.” He reached out to hug me, but I instinctively took a step back: “I just went upstairs to talk to the neighbors. Someone was definitely home, but they wouldn’t open the door.” Liam’s eyes flickered for a second, and he quickly changed the subject: “I told you they’re trouble. I’ll go up there tomorrow. Just don’t get involved, okay?” As he spoke, he handed me the roses and leaned in to kiss me. In that instant, I caught the same familiar scent I’d smelled upstairs, and my heart tightened.
The overpowering scent of the roses had masked it before. But as Liam leaned in, I caught that familiar smell again. I also noticed the hair at the back of his neck was damp. So I reached up and touched it. “Why is your hair wet?” His body stiffened noticeably for a split second, then he chuckled: “Didn’t you notice it started raining outside? I got a little soaked buying you flowers on my way home.” I pulled back the curtains. Indeed, at some point, a light rain had started falling outside. Liam’s explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, but my suspicion didn’t lessen a bit. I didn’t let it show, though. I took the flowers with a big, happy smile: “Thanks, honey. You should go take a hot shower right away, don’t want you catching a cold.” He seemed to let out a sigh of relief, and without another word, headed straight for the bathroom. Lying in bed that night, my mind was replaying everything from today: the leak always starting when Liam was away, the suspicious sound of water, that scent, the fleeting figure, and his sudden reason for coming home. All these things together just felt off. Something wasn’t right. Tomorrow, I had to go with Liam and confront that neighbor myself. The next morning, as soon as I placed breakfast on the table, Liam leaned over. He kissed me, his tone casual: “Honey, I just tried contacting the upstairs neighbor. He said he’ll have someone come fix it today.” My milk glass paused mid-air. I looked up at him: “You have their contact information? Could you give it to me? That way, if anything happens when you’re on a trip, I can contact them directly.” But Liam shook his head, playfully teasing: “It’s a guy living up there, and he looks like a total creep. My gorgeous wife, I wouldn’t want him bothering you.” “Besides,” he added, “once this leak is fixed, we won’t have any reason to interact with him again.” I didn’t say anything, just stirred my oatmeal, a new wave of suspicion swirling in my mind. Yesterday, I’d distinctly heard a woman’s voice. Why was Liam telling me it was a man? Could it be a couple living up there? Over the next two days, I had to leave for a business trip myself due to work. But for two days straight, I was completely out of sorts, my mind consumed by those lingering questions. Finally, after finishing my work, I decided to head home early. I tried to open the door with my key, but for some reason, it was double-locked from the inside. After about two minutes, Liam finally opened the door. “Honey, why are you back? Weren’t you supposed to be back tomorrow?” I looked at his flustered expression and forced a smile: “I missed you, so I came back early. What were you doing? Why was the door double-locked?” Liam pointed to the apron he was wearing. “I was just cooking! Probably locked it out of habit when I came in. You’re back just in time! Go wash your hands, dinner’s ready.” With that, Liam turned back to the kitchen, busying himself with cooking. Since we got married, I’d barely set foot in the kitchen whenever he was home. Everyone said I’d married a wonderful man. On top of that, he was always big on holidays and special occasions, constantly showering me with gifts, big and small. Watching his busy figure, a sudden wave of guilt washed over me. Maybe I really was just being too sensitive. It was probably just a coincidence. How could I even suspect him of cheating? I nodded happily and walked over to check out the food, but then I saw a dish that shouldn’t have been there. My heart sank. I said coldly, “Why did you make spicy shrimp pasta? We’re both allergic to shrimp, remember?” At that moment, the storm of suspicion I’d just tried to quell surged back, even stronger than before.
Liam looked like he suddenly remembered something, and he frantically dumped the shrimp pasta into the trash can. “Oh, right! My subordinate said these shrimp were from his own farm, so I just took them. Good thing you came home, honey, or I would’ve been miserable!” “Never mind! Let’s go out for a nice dinner tonight, no need to eat at home.” He put his arm around me, trying to coax me, then humbly massaged my waist and shoulders. When we arrived at the restaurant, he handed me his phone: “Order whatever you want, don’t worry about saving money for your husband, okay? All my money is for my precious wife.” Just as I took the phone to order, my finger accidentally brushed the search button. And the next second, a pink 26-key keyboard popped up. My heart skipped a beat as I stared, dumbfounded, at the glaring keyboard. Liam and I had been together for three years and married for two. I knew his typing habits better than anyone. We both preferred the 9-key layout, finding the 26-key too cumbersome. Even if this 26-key keyboard was an accidental tap, what was with the pink cat-themed keyboard skin? Liam always used his phone’s default keyboard. This had to be someone else’s customized setting. At this point, I was certain – Liam was cheating. That woman used rose-scented body wash, loved spicy shrimp pasta, and typed on a 26-key keyboard. But I wouldn’t confront him directly. I wanted to catch them in the act myself. In the days that followed, to make Liam reveal his hand, I never mentioned the upstairs apartment again. And after he said he’d had someone fix the leak, it actually hadn’t leaked again. Less than a week later, whether his lover couldn’t wait or Liam was just impatient, he “left for another business trip.” This time, half a day after he left, there was still no leak from upstairs. Had it actually been fixed? Just then, there was a knock at the door, followed by a delivery guy’s voice. I froze for a moment. I hadn’t ordered anything, so why was there a delivery? I opened the door and took the package. When I saw what was inside the bag, my heart instantly pounded like crazy. The recipient was Liam, the address was our apartment number, and the phone number was my secondary one. But inside the bag was a bottle of body wash, a box of condoms, and a tube of lubricant. My heart clenched painfully. The items in my hand felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Just as I suspected, when I unscrewed the body wash, that familiar scent instantly filled my nostrils. And I was allergic to lubricant. I hadn’t used anything like that with Liam in all our time together. The truth was screaming at me – Liam was with that woman right now. He had ordered these things but hadn’t bothered to check the address, so they’d been delivered to our home. The fact that the delivery app hadn’t automatically switched addresses also meant his “second home” had to be close by in the same complex. If I wasn’t mistaken, the upstairs apartment had to be his mistress’s secret hideaway! Because that day I came home early from my trip, Liam was cooking for her! But whether she hadn’t arrived yet, or she’d found out I was coming home early and left, I still couldn’t figure out. I was so angry my breath came in short gasps, and tears welled up and streamed down my face. But quickly, I wiped away my tears and carried the bag out the door. Upstairs, I knocked hard. Less than ten minutes later, the door opened. Staring at the hulking man in front of me, I was utterly unprepared and froze on the spot. What was going on? Was I really just imagining things?!
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