Chapter 5
The next morning, while I was still asleep, Mrs. Simpson showed up.
She walked in holding a pot of chicken soup, opened the door without knocking. After I heard a commotion in the bedroom, I grabbed a vase and rushed out.
There were only three keys to the new house – two were with Alan Simpson and me, and I had kept the third one as a backup. Clearly, it had now ended up in Mrs. Simpson’s hands.
Her expression was casual, as if nothing had happened the day before.
“Good girl, I’ve made you some chicken soup.”
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Mrs. Simpson motioned for me to sit down.n. I glanced at the clear soup in the clay pot and wondered how much tap water had beenen added. The chicken soup was probably long gone, consumed by Alice Mitchell, right?
“Where is Alice Mitchell staying now?”
Seeing my curiosity, Mrs. Simpson assumed I was ready to accept her, then she immediately sat down and began to complain to me.
Mr. and Mrs. Simpson had always lived in an old suburban neighborhood, but Alice Mitchell, having lost her financial support, could no longer afford the rent on her villa So, she had moved in with them.
A woman like Alice Mitchell could fill an entire plaza with just her bags and shoes. How could a small apartment like the Li
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family’s possibly fit all her things?
I could imagine that space was now so cluttered there wasn’t even room to stand.
I pushed the soup away and grabbed a loaf of bread from the fridge, munching on it.
“You don’t need to try and make nice with me. I won’t let that woman through the door.”
In the end, Mrs. Simpson and I parted on bad terms.
As soon as she left, I changed the locks on the door, called two cleaners to tidy up the rooms, and drove to the nearest law office.
I specifically asked for a top lawyer to consult about divorce. Before I got married, a colleague had once explained to me that if a marriage broke down due to other reasons
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or if one party had bad habits, a unilateral divorce petition was possible.
Even if Alice Mitchell’s child had inheritance
rights, at least she wouldn’t be able to inherit anything of mine. So I had to settle everything before Alan Simpson tried to meddle.
The lawyer prepared the necessary documents for me, and the paternity test Alice Mitchell had thrown at me could serve as evidence of Alan Simpson’s infidelity.
After everything was set, I let out a deep breath of relief.
In this relationship, I had always been the most humble one. Alan Simpson’s work kept him busy, and he often travels for business. Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, and even Christmas were spent by myself, eating
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instant noodles.
But now, when I thought about it, while I was scrimping and saving for our future, eating noodles, he was out dining with Alice. Mitchell, buying designer brands, enjoying romantic nights under the stars, indulging in the excitement and thrill of an affair.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt cheated. I drove to the commercial district, gazing at the neon lights of the street, deciding that tonight I would treat myself.
I was going to buy clothes–lots of clothes- and indulge in all the beauty treatments and massages I’d never allowed myself before.
By the time I left the clothing store, my hands were filled with shopping bags. I rushed to the jewelry store and bought an entire diamond set without even blinking.
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Passing by a handbag counter, I spotted the limited edition bag Alice Mitchell had been carrying. My eyes lingered on it, and after listening to the saleswoman for an hour, I swiped my card for an even more expensive bag.
I wasn’t interested in what others had; if I was going to buy, I’d buy something better, something more expensive.
I found a high–end spa, treated myself to a thorough session, then slipped into a new black bodycon dress, went for a spa treatment, a manicure, and even had my eyelashes permed with the best, most expensive products. I even had a makeup artist create an exquisite look.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with what I saw.
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I piled everything into the trunk, and by the time I was done, it was quite late. Carrying my bag, I headed to a five–star restaurant and enjoyed an extravagant Western meal by the floor–to–ceiling windows.
Candles, wine, and a serene, elegant atmosphere. As I gazed at the dazzling night lights below, my mood lifted significantly.
Just as I was about to pay the bill and leave, I bumped into someone at the elevator.
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Chapter6
