Chapter 4: Stay or Go to Him
Everything was as usual.
She watched me, saying nothing.
Just as I was about to head to the guest room, she finally called out.
“Aaron, you’re acting weird today.”
“Am I?”
I answered casually.
She looked... conflicted.
“Are you mad?”
She asked.
Mad? If someone on assignment actually falls for their target, that’s basically suicide.
“Is there something we can’t talk about? You’re being cold for no reason, and that’s really not fair, you know?”
Seeing I didn’t respond, Rachel started to lose her patience.
She’s always like this—acting both wronged and self-righteous.
Talk things out? I’ve hardly ever had a real conversation with her.
When I told her to keep her distance from Lucas, she mocked me: “Lucas would never be like you.”
When I celebrated her birthday, she laughed: “Gold doesn’t hold its value. The cake Lucas gave me is more meaningful.”
When Rachel stayed out all night and I confronted her, she accused me of not trusting her and having a dirty mind.
Now, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to talk to her anymore.
I didn’t say a word. I turned to close the door, but Rachel blocked the doorway.
She glared at me, as if I’d committed some terrible crime.
“You looked at my phone, didn’t you?” she demanded.
Not that it matters—I only glanced at it by accident. Even if I’d checked it on purpose, so what?
Between husband and wife, what’s off-limits? Unless you have something to hide.
“All that’s in your phone are those shady messages with Lucas. What’s worth seeing?” I shot back.
She actually looked relieved. Maybe even a little proud. “Are you jealous?”
Before I could say anything, she cut me off. Her tone was all reproach and disdain: “Lucas is sick. As a friend, it’s only right for me to care about him. Is his life less important than your anniversary dinner? Aaron, if you have something to say, just say it. I don’t like you giving me the cold shoulder over something so trivial and losing your temper with me. You should really reflect on yourself and see if you’re making a fuss over nothing.”
Watching Rachel’s arrogant attitude, I couldn’t help but laugh.
My laugh was sharp, echoing in the hallway. I shook my head, almost in disbelief.
“You’re always right.” I nodded. “Lucas is still sick, isn’t he? Don’t waste your time here—go to his place, or just stay at his house. Want me to call you an Uber?”
I reached for my phone, thumb hovering over the ride-share app, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice. The words hung in the air, heavy and final.