“Jack, I’m taking Emmy downstairs for a bit!” Standing by the door with Emily in her stroller, I took one last look back at Jack, sprawled on the couch watching the game, and silently said goodbye to him in my heart: Rest in peace, Jack. Returning to work after maternity leave, I couldn’t wait to see my baby girl. I gave my manager a quick heads-up and left early to head home. As I approached our front door, voices drifted out from inside. “Don’t worry. She won’t be back for at least another two hours.” That voice belonged to my husband, Jack Hale. “Right. Says the guy who ignored me for half an hour last night to rock his little princess to sleep,” a woman’s voice teased. My mind went blank as I heard Jack soothingly reply, “Once she’s gone, Emily will be your daughter, too. She’s a baby; she won’t know the difference. After all, if you’ve got milk, you’re the mom.” Then, I heard sounds that left no room for doubt. Frozen in place, the devastating truth settled over me. Jack was cheating on me. We’d known each other since high school, growing together from prom to wedding vows. After three years of marriage, our lives had settled into a routine. Jack quit his big tech job earlier this year to open Jack’s Hardware, aiming to help with Emmy after she was born and spare me from solo parenting. I’d cried at his thoughtfulness, and the shop had done well enough that he hired a part-time employee. He’d been a doting partner through my entire recovery. Just last night, we’d been planning our move to the new house we’d remodeled, where the paint fumes had finally aired out. But now, under the searing late-afternoon August sun, reality struck me harder than anything before. Standing outside, I waited until I saw a tall woman with wavy hair strut out of the building. I ducked behind a car, catching my reflection in its window, noting how pregnancy had altered my once-trim figure. I’d always taken pride in my looks. Jack had always said that whether we had a boy or a girl, he just wanted a child of his own. I’d endured countless shots to keep our baby healthy, ultimately blessed with Emmy. At nearly six, I entered our apartment with groceries in hand. Hearing the door, Jack padded out in his slippers. “Hey, hon! I made some iced green bean soup—it’s in the fridge if you want a bowl.” “Sure, I’ll take one.” As I switched my shoes, his words from earlier echoed in my mind: Once she’s gone. Jack wanted me dead. And not only had he cheated, but he was planning to kill me. Somehow, though, my shock turned to an eerie calmness. Over dinner, Jack mentioned his mom wanting to come help with Emmy since I was back at work, and he was juggling the store and caring for her. I thought for a moment, then replied, “There’s only one bed here. When your mom comes, there won’t be space. How about we just move into the new house now?” But Jack hesitated, “I’ll take the couch. It’s summer; I’ll be fine there. You two can use the bed.” I nodded, “Sure, it’ll be nice to have her help.” I’d always found it odd how Jack had been so reluctant to move into the new house, even though it was ready ages ago. Turns out, he’d been planning to get rid of me and move in with her. After Emmy was asleep, Jack handed me an insurance form to sign. He’d mentioned getting life insurance back when I was pregnant, saying we needed to think about Emmy’s future and that this would protect her in case anything happened. So, we both got policies listing Emily as the sole beneficiary. “All right, so if I die in an accident, it’s a million?” I tightened my fingers around the paper. Right then, Carol Wilson, our neighbor, popped by with a few peaches. “A friend of ours brought over a whole box. Too much for us, so we thought of you!” She glanced at the insurance paperwork on the coffee table. “What are you two up to?” “Oh, I’m just talking with Megan about getting a policy,” Jack said smoothly. “Aunt Carol, does it really pay out a million?” I said, feigning innocence. “Jack’s looked at a bunch of policies and keeps bugging me to sign it before prices go up.” Carol’s interest piqued. “Honey, insurance is a pain to pay, but it sure comes in handy when you need it. Just last year, my husband’s cancer was covered under his policy, and we got thirty grand from it.” Jack shot me a look that said, See? “I don’t know much about insurance, but Jack says it’ll give us peace of mind,” I shrugged. “But maybe I’ll study up on it first.” Carol nodded approvingly, “You’re right to think it through. Accident insurance isn’t like health insurance. You’re far more likely to get sick in your life than to get in an accident.” She didn’t notice Jack’s face freeze for a moment as she said it. “Insurance is just a safety net. You never know what might happen tomorrow,” Jack joked, glancing at me. “If I die, at least I’d leave you and Emmy a little something.” I punched his shoulder, “Quit saying stuff like that.” “Don’t tempt fate, Jack!” Carol said, waving us off with a chuckle as she left. That night, I headed to the bathroom. There was a faint humming noise coming from the water heater. Our building was old, built in the early 2000s, and all the units used electric water heaters. Ours was secondhand, bought from the last tenants, and I’d wanted to replace it last year, but we’d planned to move, so we let it be. Holding my toothbrush, I stared thoughtfully at the worn appliance. Back in bed, Jack was scrolling on his phone. When I walked over, he quickly set it face down. On the nightstand, a baby monitor showed Emmy’s crib. “Jack, you really want that insurance?” I asked, raising my voice a bit. Jack rolled over, “It’s a solid policy. I’m telling you…” He launched into a long list of benefits. I yawned, agreeing casually, “All right, sure. Too late now, though. Tomorrow, then.” “Great!” In the dim light, I caught the gleam of excitement in his eyes. The next morning, I headed downstairs for work. Jack hurried out, waving the insurance form, and caught me as I was about to leave. Right then, Carol and some other neighbors walked by, bags of groceries in hand. “What’s the rush, Jack?” Carol asked, eyeing the form in his hand. “Oh, it’s that insurance from last night. He just wants me to sign it,” I said, signing my name with a smile. “Can’t help it; he calls the shots around here. Gotta run—almost late!” Riding away on my e-bike, I caught sight of Jack in my mirror, holding the paper with a grin, even giving it a celebratory kiss. At work, I texted him: Jack, the water heater at home seems off. Can you check it? Ten minutes later, he replied: Sure, babe. Got it. His careless response was exactly as expected. He was probably daydreaming about his life after a million-dollar payout with his new woman, far too busy to worry about an eight-year-old water heater. What causes a water heater to explode? I typed into the search bar, read through the results, and then cleared my history.
At 5:30, Julie, the new intern, noticed I hadn’t budged. “Megan, aren’t you in a rush to get home and see Emmy?” “Oh, Jack’s with her,” I replied, showing the baby monitor app on my phone, where Jack was entertaining Emmy. “I figured I’d stay late and finish up my report.” Julie gave me a wistful smile. “Must be nice! One day, I’m finding a guy who’ll pull his weight with the baby, too!” I just smiled back. Starting today, I wanted everyone to know that Jack and I were the picture of domestic bliss. After wrapping up, I was about to leave when Greg Summers from IT walked over. “Hey, just a heads up—don’t use company computers for personal stuff right now.” “What’s going on?” I asked. “With last quarter’s slump, leadership’s monitoring web use more than usual, like to see if people are shopping or browsing news sites…” Greg trailed off, then asked, “By the way, what’s up with your water heater? Saw you searching about it.” My pulse raced, but I kept calm. Why should I be anxious? It was completely reasonable to check out potential safety issues with an old appliance. “Oh, I saw this video about a heater exploding, and it freaked me out a bit,” I replied casually. Greg nodded. “I think they say to replace them every eight years or so.” His phone buzzed, and he walked away. My fingers shook as I gathered my things to leave. By the time I got home, it was almost eight. Jack was taking photos of Emmy on the couch. When he noticed me, he quickly looked away, seeming almost flustered. “Is that new?” I pointed at the outfit Emmy was wearing. “Yeah, it arrived today,” he set the camera down. “Hungry? Let’s go grab some noodles from that place downstairs.” “When’d you get a new camera? You didn’t mention it.” I reached over to pick it up, flipping through the photos. The quality was so professional; Jack had clearly gotten good at composition. Jack hesitated, “Well, I didn’t want you to think I was wasting money… I wanted to capture Emmy’s moments, you know?” “You could’ve asked me instead of hiding it,” I said, continuing to look through the photos. Jack snatched the camera from my hands. “Hon, you’ve been working all day; don’t get worked up over a small thing. Let me make it up to you. Here, strike a pose for me!” Then, Emmy started fussing. I quickly scooped her up. “Could you take out the trash? And grab us two noodle bowls on your way back?” “Sure.” Jack reached for his phone. “Leave it charging,” I said, pulling out some cash. “Here, just use this.” He shrugged, took the money, and grabbed the trash. The moment he was out of sight, I unlocked his phone—password, Emmy’s birth date, worked on the first try. I’d never felt the need to check his phone before, but now, there was no hesitation. He’d been so sure I’d never intrude on his privacy. One contact caught my eye: “AAA Style Master Linda Cross.” Her latest message read: Hiking’s the easiest way to create a happy little ‘accident.’ There’s no… The rest was hidden, and since Jack hadn’t opened it, I couldn’t read further. But I didn’t need to; the picture was clear enough. With the policy signed, they’d locked and loaded. I placed his phone back and resumed scrolling through the camera, finding photos of Emmy bundled in thick baby blankets. The focus wasn’t even on her, but rather the details of the clothing. Given the summer heat, Emmy’s hair was damp with sweat. When Jack returned, I confronted him, “Why wrap her up like this? It’s over 90 degrees out—she’ll overheat!” He froze, trying to recover, “They’re sending us another one for free if I post a picture with this one.” “So you’d risk her comfort for a cheap promo?” Jack’s anger flared, “She’s my daughter! You think I’d hurt her?” “Relax. I didn’t say that.” I pressed, raising my voice. Jack knocked the camera to the ground, slamming the door behind him. When he finally returned around midnight, he hugged me from behind, whispering, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” I said nothing. He softened, adding, “How about a weekend hiking trip, just the two of us? Mom can watch Emmy. It’s been forever since we had time alone.” There it was: that sickening sweetness, like when we first started dating. Even after years of building a life together, you can never fully know the person lying beside you. “Camping? But I thought you hated hiking?” I asked. “That was back then,” he chuckled, “But now we’re our own bosses with flexible schedules. Hiking’s a good way to stay fit.” “Which trail?” I tested. “Stonehill Ridge,” he said. “I read it’s less crowded, got beautiful old scenery, and is far from the city. They say the air there is amazing.” I nodded, “You really did your homework.” “Of course. I have to make it up to you.” He pulled me close. “We could get a tent and camp under the stars, just like college.” I pushed him back, “Fine. But if we go, it’ll be once your mom’s settled with Emmy.” He brightened, “Done!” The stronger he pressed, the firmer my resolve became. Around 2 a.m., I finished feeding Emmy and went to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, the water heater emitted its usual hum, old and worn. If its temperature controls, overheating protection, and pressure release valves were all damaged, well… anything could happen. I placed a hand under the hot stream, deep in thought.
Jack’s mom arrived a few days later, laden with bags and a crate of fresh eggs. “Well, well, standing there like a bump on a log,” she teased me, nudging Jack with a laugh. “For a new mom, you sure don’t know how to keep busy.” I took her bag, smiling. “Thanks for coming, Marge. You must be tired from the trip.” “Oh, don’t you worry about me,” she said, settling onto the couch with a grin that looked friendly enough but masked a pointed edge. She’d never quite approved of me, probably thinking Jack’s previous tech job could’ve won him a wife with “better” credentials. Jack handed her a cup of water, “Mom, Megan and I are planning a hiking trip this weekend. Think you could look after Emmy for a couple of days?” She muttered, “Yeah, sure, sure. Sounds miserable in this heat, but knock yourselves out.” Later that night, Jack insisted on picking up camping gear, practically glowing with excitement. “We’re just three days away!” he beamed. “Since you got pregnant, we haven’t been out together. You as excited as I am?” “Oh, I…” Just yesterday, I’d set the water heater to fifty degrees, only to find the water scalding when I used it. Its temperature controls must’ve completely failed. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it,” I replied. When we returned, Marge had already put Emmy to bed. The next morning, Jack left for the shop, and I dressed Emmy for the day before heading out. Marge, holding Emmy, grumbled about the baby monitor. “Staring at us all night, I couldn’t sleep with that thing on.” She set it on the shelf behind the TV. “Waste of money.” “Sure.” I said, as the doorbell rang. The appliance repairman I’d called had arrived. “Mr. Turner, right?” I stepped aside to let him in and led him to the bathroom. “Our water heater’s been making odd noises, and the temperature’s unpredictable. Could you check it?” He inspected it, knocking on the casing, “How long you had it?” “About eight years.” “Thing’s on its last legs. You’d be better off with a new one. That pressure relief valve’s not working either. This old heater could go anytime.” I feigned shock. “It’s worth maybe a hundred bucks,” he added. “If you decide to sell it, call me.” As he left, I suggested to Marge, “Maybe we should just get rid of it.” “He’s scamming you,” she scoffed. “That heater’s working fine; why bother?” “Let’s just unplug it when it’s not in use, then.” I put on my shoes, ready to head out for work. “Fancy-pants, aren’t we? You make three grand a month and act like royalty,” she sneered. I said nothing, pulling on my sun hat as I left. After work, I realized it had started raining, and I’d forgotten my umbrella. Slick pavement made riding my e-bike treacherous, but I gripped the handlebars tightly, squinting through the rain. Then, out of nowhere, a van careened toward me, and I froze. In those seconds, I felt nothing but terror—and a gnawing bitterness. Why did fate seem to favor Jack? The van stopped just in time, but in my panic, I swerved, crashing onto the sidewalk. Pain shot through my hip, and my knee scraped against the rough pavement. My arms were bloodied and caked with dirt. Bystanders helped me up as the van driver apologized profusely. When I finally got home, Marge was shelling beans, while Jack was scrolling through his phone. He sprang up when he saw my disheveled state. “What happened? Are you okay?” I shook my head. Seemingly relieved, Jack asked, “It’s not too bad, right? This won’t stop us from hiking this weekend?” I stared at him. “What do you think? I can barely walk.” My dear husband’s primary concern wasn’t my well-being; it was whether his plan would still work. As Marge cringed at my scraped knee, Jack stared blankly, as though he’d suffered a blow. I stepped into the bathroom, skipping the shower in favor of a basin of cold water. As I washed my knee, I glanced at the water heater. Bathing would be out of the question until I healed. At dinner, Jack was oddly quiet, lost in thought. Marge handed him a slice of omelet. “What’s on your mind?” “Babe, maybe I should take you to the hospital tomorrow, make sure you didn’t break anything,” Jack said, glancing at me. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on the weekend.” “Yes, that would be good,” I replied. The next day, Jack took me to get my wounds dressed. The doctor warned against letting the injuries get wet. Once back at work, I opened the baby monitor app, expecting to check on Emmy, only to find the screen filled with Jack and that woman, sprawled on my living room couch. They were all over each other, like animals incapable of self-control. Watching Jack with another woman, I felt nothing. But my gaze drifted to Emmy in her stroller nearby, tiny legs kicking in the air, oblivious to the scene around her. The sight made me feel sick. “Oh, there’s something about your place that really gets me going,” the woman purred. Jack, cigarette in hand, replied, “You’re the only one who makes me feel alive. Megan’s a mess now; her body’s wrecked. One look, and I’m done.” “Your daughter’s crying.” “Let her cry. Girls are a hassle, anyway. Just raising her for someone else. So, when are you giving me a son?” “When you get rid of her. Simple as that.” “Last night, I almost smothered her with a pillow,” Jack hissed through gritted teeth. “Can’t believe she didn’t die in that accident.” The screen cut to three loud knocks on the door.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294971”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #惊悚Thriller #励志Inspiring
Leave a Reply