Chapter 50: The Call

I didn’t go to Bael’s office.

Obviously.

What kind of person just drops everything and runs because their husband sent a completely inappropriate text in the middle of the day?

Not me.

Definitely not me.

I’m in the study now, pencil moving across paper as I sketch out another design, this one with cleaner lines than the last attempt, the proportions finally starting to feel right.

Architecture makes sense in a way most things don’t.

There are rules, structures, logic that holds everything together.

You can’t just throw things at a building and hope it works.

Well, you can, but it’ll collapse.

Kind of like everything else in my life right now.

I shade in a window section, then pause, pencil hovering over the paper.

What’s Bael going to say when he gets back tonight?

I didn’t reply to his last message.

Just left him on read after *come fuck me* like that’s a normal thing to say to your husband who’s having lunch with someone.

My face heats up just thinking about it.

He’s probably not going to mention it.

He’ll just walk in like nothing happened, sit down for dinner, maybe ask about my day in that detached way he has.

Or maybe he’ll bring it up.

Maybe he’ll corner me somewhere and ask why I didn’t come, and I’ll have to explain that I’m not some kind of...

I shake my head and go back to sketching.

It’s almost dinner time anyway.

I should probably finish this up and get changed.

Though first...

I set down my pencil and stand, heading back to the bedroom.

To the wardrobe.

The down compartment is exactly where he said it would be, hidden under a false bottom that I never would have found if I wasn’t specifically looking for it.

I pull it open.

Documents.

Bank statements, property deeds, all of it in my name, official and legal and real.

One billion yuan.

A house in France.

Security I didn’t ask for, didn’t know I had.

It should feel reassuring.

And it does, a little, enough to loosen something in my chest.

But underneath that, there’s something else I can’t quite name, something quieter that doesn’t settle as easily.

I stare at them for a long moment, then carefully put everything back exactly how I found it.

***

Bael gets home right on time for dinner.

We eat in the usual quiet, Grandmother asking questions about my day, Bael answering hers about the company, me contributing when expected but mostly just focusing on my food.

Normal.

Domestic.

Like we didn’t spend the afternoon sending each other inappropriate messages.

"I’m going to a gala next week," I say during a lull in conversation. "With Mrs. Zhou and her group."

Bael glances up from his plate. "Which day?"

"Next Saturday."

He nods once. "Make sure you take enough security."

"I will."

That’s it.

No questions about what kind of gala, who else will be there, what I’ll wear.

Just practical logistics.

Grandmother looks pleased though, so I guess that counts for something.

Dinner ends and Bael disappears into the bathroom while I head back to our room, already feeling the weight of the day settling into my bones.

I’d put on a movie earlier, something mindless and easy, but now I can barely keep my eyes open.

Sleep sounds better than whatever drama is happening on screen.

I’m reaching for the remote to turn it off when I notice Bael’s phone on the nightstand.

It’s ringing.

The screen lights up with a name.

Xue Lian.

I stare at it.

It keeps ringing.

I should ignore it, it’s not my phone, not my place. I should just let it go to voicemail and pretend I didn’t see anything.

But something about the timing feels deliberate.

It’s late, past business hours, well into the time when normal people don’t call unless it’s important or personal.

And Xue Lian could have called during the day, could have reached Bael at the office when he was actually available.

But he didn’t.

He’s calling now.

My hand moves before I can talk myself out of it.

I pick up the phone and answer.

"Why are you calling a married man at this time?"

Silence.

Just for a second.

Then a soft laugh, light and amused, like he wasn’t surprised at all that I’m the one who picked up.

"Ah," Xue Lian says, voice smooth and unbothered. "I just wanted to remind Bael about our rescheduled lunch tomorrow. Since you were so determined to monopolize his time the other day, we didn’t get the chance to catch up properly."

The words are polite on the surface.

The meaning underneath isn’t.

"I hope you won’t mind tomorrow though," he continues. "It would be a shame to interrupt again."

I grip the phone tighter.

"I don’t mind at all..." I say, keeping my voice even. "I’m a very understanding husband. If Bael wants to catch up with an old friend, there’s nothing to oppose."

"I see." There’s something in his tone I can’t quite place. "I hope you still think the same by tomorrow."

Then he hangs up.

I stare at the phone for a moment, then set it back down on the nightstand.

What was that supposed to mean?

*I hope you still think the same by tomorrow.*

Like he’s planning something.

Like tomorrow’s lunch is going to be more than just catching up.

I shake my head and crawl into bed.

Xue Lian is probably just trying to get under my skin.

Looking for a reaction, for me to get jealous or possessive or whatever he thinks I should be.

Not happening.

Bael can have lunch with whoever he wants.

I don’t care.

I pull the blanket up and close my eyes, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up.

The bathroom door opens and I hear Bael moving around the room, getting ready for bed.

I keep my eyes closed and pretend I’m already asleep.

He slides into bed beside me a few minutes later, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

For a moment, I think he’s going to say something, ask about the phone call maybe, if he saw that I answered it.

But he doesn’t.

He just settles in like always, and within minutes his breathing evens out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

I close my eyes and try to sleep, but the words don’t leave my mind.

*I hope you still think the same by tomorrow*