chap

Elena stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her.

I had just carried my suitcase into the entryway when I saw her standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, her eyes looking as if they were about to breathe fire.

I ignored her mood and went to pour a glass of water.

"What exactly is your relationship with that Isabella woman?"

She finally erupted.

"I told you. She’s a partner, and an old classmate."

"Old classmate? Have you ever seen an old classmate who hugs and cuddles the moment they meet? The way she looks at you—her eyes are practically dripping with desire! Were you with her the entire time you were in Chicago?"

Her interrogation was as piercing as it was hypocritical.

She grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and hurled it violently at me.

I sidestepped it, my tone terrifyingly calm:

"That’s just her personality; she’s warm and open. Since we’re friends, does gender matter that much?"

"Of course it matters! You are a married man! How can you let another woman lean on you like that?"

I looked at her and suddenly laughed:

"Oh, really? So you know that’s inappropriate? Then, as a married woman, don't you also call Julian your ‘soulmate,’ sit in his passenger seat, and go to Aspen with him?"

Elena choked on my retort.

Her expression froze instantly—a mix of embarrassment and anger at being exposed.

After a long pause, she argued with twisted logic:

"That’s different! I’ve known Julian for twenty years; he’s like family..."

I cut her off, mimicking her past tone:

"Isabella and I have been classmates for years too! What’s the difference? Can’t you stop being so petty?"

Elena was rendered completely speechless.

For the next few days, the house was filled with the smoke of a cold war.

That weekend,

we went to Elena’s parents' estate in Long Island for dinner as usual.

At the table, my mother-in-law sensed the low pressure between us.

"Elena, Liam just got back from Chicago and had to take care of his sick parents. You need to be more understanding. Don't always throw tantrums."

Then she turned to me: "Liam, we’ve spoiled Elena since she was little. In a marriage, tolerance is the most important thing."

Elena seemed to want to take the out; she reached out, trying to hold my hand.

"Honey..."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and an uninvited guest strode in.

"Sorry I’m late! Traffic was a bit heavy."

It was Julian.

He walked in with the familiarity of someone returning to his own home.

He even walked directly behind Elena, placed his hands on the back of her chair, and leaned down to whisper something in her ear.

Elena glanced at me awkwardly and gently pushed him away.

Seeing me, Julian raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion: "Oh, Liam’s here too. A rare guest."

Immediately after, three or four men and women poured in from outside.

They were all core members of that "Studio 54 Revival" group chat.

"Elena, hurry up and eat. A new Jazz Bar just opened in the Meatpacking District tonight, and everyone is waiting for you."

"Tonight is to celebrate Julian’s work being collected by MoMA. You can't be absent."

Elena’s eyes lit up; this was her favorite kind of social setting.

But she immediately looked at me, hesitation and pleading in her eyes.

Those so-called friends were all staring at me too,

their eyes full of provocation and disdain, as if I were the dragon preventing the princess from finding her happiness.

Even though I had been married to Elena for three years,

in this circle, I remained a misfit, an outsider.

"Liam, maybe... do you want to come with us?"

Elena asked cautiously.

For a moment, the dining room fell silent.

Julian and a few others exchanged glances.

They obviously didn't welcome me, but to take Elena away, they had to endure it.

In that case, I would oblige them.

I put down my napkin, wiped my mouth, and smiled: "Sure."

Their expressions froze.

A few minutes later,

Elena tentatively said, "Well, we... might be out quite late."

She quickly added:

"But don't worry, since you’re here this time, we definitely won't go too crazy."

I just smiled and said nothing.

As we walked out, I heard Julian muttering under his breath behind me:

"Did the nerd take the wrong meds today? He actually wants to go to a club with us?"