My Beloved, How I've Longed for You!
As night deepened, the rhythmic breathing of my daughter resonated through the tranquil darkness of the room. Leaning against the headboard, I was idly swiping through TikTok on my phone, its screen flickering in the obsidian gloom. A silent live stream from the streets surreptitiously captured my attention; my heartbeat quickened, my gaze fixed as if by magnetism, until the beautiful hostess shifted the camera away. With a sweaty palm, I experienced a moment of bewildering recognition—the live stream was happening right here in my city.
In a state of disarray, I dialed George's video call, who was far away in B city. The figure of the man in the live stream, the tenderness cradled in his arms was inconceivable. The phone's ring seemed to elongate time until finally, George appeared on the screen, his smile as warm as ever, "My dear!" I interrogated him urgently, "Where are you?" The stark contrast between his white shirt and tie at his end and the gray trench coat from the live stream was unmistakable.
"I was dining with a client, stepped out specially to take your call. What's wrong? Is Angel alright?" he inquired. I beat around the bush, "Are you still in B city?" His eyes were filled with confusion, "Yes, what happened?" I masked the tremor in my heart, "Nothing. When are you coming back?" He smiled tenderly, his voice soothing, "Very soon, as soon as I wrap things up here. Are you missing me?" His gaze brimmed with love, "I will hurry back. You should get some rest too; I need to get back to work, goodbye for now." He blew a kiss before the screen went dark.
I sat still, the phone cold in my grasp. A strand of self-reproach rose within me, doubts cast long shadows, inexplicably waxing and waning.
George is truly a paragon among husbands: not just strikingly handsome, but also immensely doting towards both his wife and daughter.
I encountered him at a time when he was but a modest youth from G city. Despite his origins, his family's means were quite ordinary, burdened further by a sister frequently beset by illness. Amidst my multitude of suitors, I chose him solely for his fetching appearance, a testament to my predilection for beauty.
After graduation, determined to remain by his side, I leveraged my parents' property to secure a loan and embarked on a joint venture with him. Together, we founded a building materials company—him managing the supply chain, while I tirelessly sought clients, nearly succumbing to a stress-induced gastric hemorrhage.
Fortuitously, the business flourished steadily. Just as we were on the ascent, I discovered I was pregnant. It was then I decided to step back, entrusting the company to him while I devoted myself to child-rearing and homemaking.
In the blink of an eye, our daughter Angel turned four, and our small family basked in a life of comfortable affluence, much to the envy of many. Although we never had a wedding ceremony, George perpetually expressed remorse, vowing to lavish me with a life of luxury and to compensate for any past grievances.
How could a husband of such caliber stray?
I couldn't help but crack a wry smile at the thought—clearly, I had been indulging in too many melodramas to entertain such a preposterous notion.
Lying in bed, I pondered the fleeting figure I had glimpsed on the TikTok page. It was likely my deep attachment to George, and crucially, the familiarity of that trench coat, which I had painstakingly ironed before his trip, that caused my confusion.
It must have been another man wearing the same style of trench coat that had tricked my eyes.
The next day, George returned early, bringing with him an abundance of treats for Angel.
He showered us with affection, the atmosphere brimming with warmth.
In high spirits, I hurried to the kitchen to prepare a selection of his favorite dishes, eager to spoil him as a token of my appreciation.
As we sat down for the meal, George glanced at me and casually remarked, "You smell of cooking fumes, go take a shower."
I sniffed nonchalantly and retorted with a proud grin, "It's the scent of home cooking, you know? Or don't you partake in the simple pleasures of life?"
He smiled indulgently, ruffling my hair, and stuffed a piece of rib into my mouth, then tenderly fed Angel a piece, "Very well, my sweethearts, let's all enjoy some meat!"
After dinner, I put our daughter to bed early, then took a bath myself. Snuggling up to him, I teased flirtatiously, "Still smell the cooking fumes?"
George laughed, pinching me playfully, "My dear wife, how I've missed you!"
With that, he pulled me into an embrace and we fell onto the bed...