I Stopped Checking, Then Found His Affair Chapter 01

I Stopped Checking, Then Found His Affair Chapter 01

After remarrying Julian Vane, I stopped being paranoid.

I no longer neurotically searched for traces of other women around him.

We reconciled as if none of the past had ever happened.

It was because during the first year of our marriage, I was constantly battling non-existent mistresses.

The first time I found lace underwear in the car, I rushed to his office in a hysterical rage to confront him, forgetting to turn off the gas at home; the resulting fire burned our wedding house to the ground.

The second time, just as a private investigator sent me intimate photos, the elevator I was in malfunctioned. I was trapped for half a day, nearly dying from a lack of oxygen.

The third time, refusing to believe in “bad luck,” I brought my best friend to crash a wedding ceremony, only to be drenched in blood when a falling chandelier crushed me.

So, after this remarriage, even when Julian stayed out all night, I stopped looking for answers.

Until this time, when he got into a car accident. Admitted to the hospital alongside him was a half-dressed

woman.

I silently claimed the items filled with undeniable evidence of their affair.

When I walked into the hospital room, Julian frantically shielded the woman.

“Clara Sterling, you finally caught us. Are you happy now? If you have a problem, take it out on me! It has

nothing to do with her!”

My calm expression finally broke into a smile.

Even with her face covered, I recognized the bracelet on her wrist-it was a gift I had given my best friend,

Sienna Brooks, a month ago.

At the moment my nerves finally snapped, I felt an odd sense of relief.

“Julian Vane, let’s get a divorce.”

As if hearing something ridiculous, Julian sneered,

“Divorce? And then what? Wait for you to come crawling back to me half-dead, begging for a remarriage?”

I shook my head gently,

“There won’t be another remarriage.”

A familiar dialogue, but a different answer, pulling me back into the absurd past.

During the first year of our marriage.

I could always find evidence of his infidelity in the nooks and crannies of our life.

It ranged from something as small as lace underwear to something as big as a wedding banquet held for him and someone else, unknown to me.

But perhaps it was a coincidence of fate.

Even though I acted like an irrational madman, eyeing every woman around him with suspicion.

I could never discover who his mistress was.

Instead, every time I found a lead, I met with an accident that left me bruised and battered.

During the final attempt to catch them, a loose falling chandelier left me severely injured.

When I woke up in the hospital, a cold, unbearable pain spread through my body.

The little life I’d been hoping for was gone forever.

I was like this back then, too.

Eyes numb as I proposed a divorce to Julian.

Only then, he knelt and pleaded a hundred times, claiming he was only at that wedding by chance.

But looking at that brand-new groom’s suit and the ring on his finger that didn’t belong to us.

In a daze, I broke down and lost all will to fight.

Amidst his panicked attempts to stop me, I forced his hand by desperate to end the endless pain.

Perhaps he did love me then, for he eventually chose to let go.

I once thought leaving him would make me better.

But day after day, I sat at home so depressed I was near death. Even my parents dared not approach me,

fearing they would trigger me further.

Only Sienna Brooks, who grew up with me, cried as she used her bare hands to held me tight to pull me back from despair.

We huddled together, both covered in blood, unable to tell whose was whose.

But I knew.

Sienna had her own life; she was in a passionate relationship with her boyfriend and had her own home.

How could I bear to drag her down?

“I couldn’t go on like this any longer.”

When a heavy truck sped toward me, that thought nailed me to the spot.

It wasn’t until Julian arrived just in time and was thrown back while shielding me.

That I realized I didn’t want to die.

I still loved him.

Back then, Julian lay in a pool of blood, his eyes unfocused but his hands gripping me tightly, as if he

wouldn’t let go even in death.

While he was in the ICU between life and death, I knelt by his bed, crying and praying.

As long as he lived, I wouldn’t care about anything else.

I thought that if I stopped searching, this crumbling love and marriage would be restored as if nothing had

happened.

But then, a traffic officer hesitantly handed me a bag of private personal items.

Seeing the familiar lace underwear mixed inside.

All my delusions were shattered.

Perhaps my daze annoyed Julian; he shielded the woman on the bed even more vigilantly,

“What are you plotting now? The affair has nothing to do with her…”

As he spoke, their intertwined hands st@bbed at my eyes like a thorn.

It completely broke the dignity I had struggled to maintain.

As tears fell, I heard my own hoarse voice,

“Sienna, you once told me you wished for my happiness. Now, I’m giving those words back to you.”

I paused, and amidst their frozen figures, I spoke again,

“I’m out. I’ll let the two of you be happy.”