I accidentally saw a “mistress registry” in the company group email. Next to my husband Ethan Parker’s name was his childhood sweetheart, the same age as him. In the evidence column, there was a screenshot of a chat. The childhood sweetheart asked him: “How long has it been since you touched that old lady?” He replied: “Don’t mention it. Now when I look at the company’s interns, I find them so youthful and vibrant.” “But when I go home and face her wrinkled face, I always feel there’s an elderly odor.” I’m already thirty-six, eight years older than him. But I don’t think I’m old yet. After coming to my senses, I decisively handed him divorce papers. Without me, his older sister figure, charging ahead, Ethan Parker lost his job and dignity, and reluctantly tried to keep me. I pinched my nose and said mockingly: “Why is there a smell of poverty here?” When I saw that “mistress registry”, Ethan Parker was playing games in the study. I placed the warmed milk beside him, reminding him to drink it soon. He impatiently said: “I know, you go rest first.” I casually scrolled on my phone, the page stopping right on his name. Olivia Quinn’s name was prefixed to his. And for several rows after, there was all kinds of substantial evidence of her being his mistress. My gaze focused on the words “elderly odor” for a long time, until my hand was almost numb. My heart ached, and my mind went blank. Until a game ended, Ethan Parker cursed softly and reached for the milk. But he accidentally spilled it. The milk spilled all over me. Ethan Parker finally had time to look up at me: “You haven’t left yet?” He frowned, his eyes showing a hint of disgust: “Tsk, what a strong smell. Go take a shower quickly.” The three words from the chat screenshot instantly became sharp arrows in reality. They pierced through the void, stabbing fiercely into my chest. In a daze, I suddenly realized a problem. Ethan Parker hadn’t touched me for a very long time.
When I closed the study door. The girl he was playing with maliciously asked: “She’s been waiting for you, does she want to… with you?” Ethan Parker instinctively looked back. Probably afraid I would hear. The door was left with a small gap, I stood where he couldn’t see me, and heard him say: “Can you stop disgusting me on purpose? Just thinking about that smell on her body makes me lose my appetite.” The girl’s mocking laughter was like sharp knives, cutting me to pieces. She continued to ask: “You’re not even thirty yet, why suffer with her? Just get a divorce.” “Forget it,” Ethan Parker hesitated. I thought he still couldn’t bear to part with me. Who knew he would say pityingly: “She’s almost forty, an old woman. Who would want her besides me?” My breathing became irregular, and my hands started trembling uncontrollably. I ran to the bathroom in a panic, looked up, and found my face had already turned pale. Ethan Parker didn’t notice anything unusual. But in the past, if I just sneezed once, he would make a fuss, take my temperature, and make chicken soup for me. Afraid I would be even slightly uncomfortable. When did he change? It was after I turned thirty-five. In this year and more, we rarely communicated. I always thought I was too busy with work and neglected him. I never imagined that his disgust had shown signs long ago. No longer turning on a lamp late at night, waiting for me to come home. No longer holding my waist intimately, calling me “babe” when things got passionate. No longer taking every little thing about me to heart, fearing to be negligent. It’s hard to imagine that this man, who now thinks I smell like an old person and is disgusted with me in every way, Once fought with his whole family, was kicked out of the house, to be with me, a woman eight years older than him, still firmly holding my hand, never giving up. At that time he said: “I don’t care what others think, you’re the best in my heart.” “Whether you’re twenty, thirty, or forty, fifty, in my heart, you’ll always be an eighteen-year-old girl.” “Even if the whole world disapproves of us, I still want to be with you.” “Let me take care of you for life, okay?” I raised my hand to smell myself. Because I was taking medicine to regulate my body, I could only smell a very faint scent of Chinese herbs. Like a string suddenly snapped, I took all the perfumes from the cabinet and sprayed them on myself. The perfume bottles fell to the ground, the broken pieces flew up, leaving a bright red wound on my leg. Blood flowed profusely. The entire bathroom was filled with a suffocating strong fragrance. Ethan Parker pushed open the door: “Rachel, what did you break?” He didn’t even notice that my leg was bleeding profusely, but just complained: “It’s so stuffy, clean it up quickly! It smells terrible!” But that was perfume. It doesn’t stink. At that moment, I suddenly realized. Ethan Parker just didn’t love me anymore. Why should I punish myself for his lack of love?
In the six years of marriage with Ethan Parker, I had always been known as a strong career woman to outsiders. And he rightfully enjoyed the “material” benefits that I, as the older one, contributed more to this relationship. I didn’t intend to let Ethan Parker take away a penny of the “marital property” I had worked hard to earn. Getting actual evidence of his affair became particularly important. To my surprise, Ethan Parker’s social circle was shockingly clean. The only one he was entangled with was his childhood friend he had known for many years. Olivia Quinn.
In the past, we had arguments because of Olivia Quinn. Although I was older than him and more mature, when it came to matters of the heart, I also had a jealous side. Olivia Quinn was young and beautiful, and had known Ethan Parker for many years. Their relationship was very deep. Sometimes, there would be actions that crossed the line. One particularly intense argument with Ethan Parker was because during a trip together, Olivia Quinn accidentally sprained her ankle. Ethan Parker carried her on his back without a second thought, leaving me, his girlfriend, far behind. Afterwards, Ethan Parker found it very hard to understand. He said: “Olivia is just like a sister to me.” “I carried my own sister when she was hurt, there was absolutely no other meaning to it.” Even Olivia came to apologize to me: “Rachel, don’t misunderstand. Ethan and I are just buddies. If we could be together, we would have been long ago, why wait until now?” In the end, it turned out that I was making a fuss over nothing. I stopped paying attention, and that argument became the longest cold war between Ethan Parker and me. In the end, he waited for me outside my company building for a day and a night. I worked overtime all night, and early the next morning, I met him at the entrance with his eyes red from staying up all night. He came up to me, gently tugging at the hem of my clothes, and pleaded in a low voice: “Don’t be angry anymore, babe.” “I promise, I’ll keep my distance from Olivia in the future.” “Okay?” After that, I rarely saw Olivia appear in front of me again. Little did I know, they had been keeping in touch privately all along. In fact, the girl he was playing games with last night. Was Olivia Quinn.
After staking out for half a month, I finally saw the latest chat records between Ethan Parker and Olivia Quinn on the iPad. They had arranged to meet at a hotel in the neighboring city. That day was Olivia Quinn’s birthday. I sat in a rented Volkswagen, watching Olivia Quinn link arms with Ethan Parker not far away. They were eating the same ice cream cone. Olivia Quinn’s face was full of arrogance: “Would the old lady eat the same ice cream cone with you?” Ethan Parker looked embarrassed: “Walking on the street, people think she’s my mom.” “Who eats the same ice cream cone with their mom at this age!” They entered the hotel together. The room number was 606. I travel frequently for work and have a gold membership on the hotel APP, with VIP discounts for accommodation. But my assistant always helped me book rooms, I rarely logged in myself. So Ethan Parker felt safe enough to use my account to book hotel rooms. It was only after calling customer service and asking them to restore the deleted booking records that I discovered Ethan Parker had booked rooms more than ten times in the past year and a half. Each time in his words was a so-called business trip. I sat in the Volkswagen for about twenty minutes, smoking two cigarettes. Estimating that enough time had passed, I finally dialed the police. Imitating the online procedures for catching cheaters, I calmly informed the person on the other end of the phone. “Hello, I want to report anonymously.” “There’s group prostitution happening in room 606 of XX Hotel.”
When I entered the room, Ethan Parker was shirtless, trying to explain. “I’m just playing games with my friend, what’s the problem?” The police officer sneered: “You play games without clothes on?” “Well, the informant is here. Please come with us to the police station to make a statement.” Ethan Parker hadn’t seen me yet, and was already furious: “Which psycho—” As I walked around the police officers. He met my eyes. At that moment, he completely panicked, his eyes full of disbelief: “You- why are you here?” I lit another cigarette, scanning him from head to toe. Fortunately, Ethan Parker was wearing shorts. But they must have been hastily put on when he was caught. After all, they were on backwards. The pockets were in the front. I couldn’t help but sneer. Ethan Parker fiddled with his drawstring, and after the initial panic, he quickly regained his composure. He quickly explained: “Rachel, today is Olivia’s birthday.” “We had arranged to meet some friends at the hotel to celebrate her birthday.” “We just arrived early, don’t misunderstand.” As he spoke, he deliberately took out his phone to show me the group he had created with his buddies. The group name was “Princess Olivia’s Birthday Party”. Six or seven men, but only Olivia was a woman. “I know you’ve never liked Olivia much, so I didn’t dare tell you. We even arranged it in the neighboring city.” I calmly finished my last drag of the cigarette, extinguished it, and said flatly: “Ethan Parker, do you remember what day it was yesterday?” His eyes first flashed with confusion. Then, he suddenly panicked. Of course he should panic. Because yesterday was my birthday.
It was when I got on the high-speed train to the neighboring city that I suddenly saw the date on the calendar and remembered. Yesterday was my birthday. It had already passed. I hadn’t remembered, and neither had Ethan Parker. Before I turned thirty-five, for every one of my birthdays, Ethan Parker would thoughtfully prepare gifts for me. From small things like a pen or a bouquet of flowers, to big things like a diamond ring or a wedding dress. At thirty-six, everything was gone. All that was left was the “elderly odor” that people found disgusting all over me. I smiled self-mockingly, suddenly realizing that when I thought of those three words again, I no longer felt so breathless with pain. This is probably the advantage of dating an older woman. All emotions are processed internally. But, you won’t get away with taking advantage of me. Love is just a game, I can play it, and I can lose it. “I’ve been so busy lately, I really forgot…” When Ethan Parker stepped forward urgently, trying to explain, I gently waved away his hand. I said in a contemptuous tone: “Ethan Parker, you’ve saved quite a bit of money using my VIP membership to book hotels over a dozen times, haven’t you?” “After the divorce, remember to transfer that money back to my card.”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295498”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #惊悚Thriller #励志Inspiring #校园School #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply