In the dead of winter, a heavy snowstorm hit.

The streets were filled with stranded workers unable to catch a bus, subway, or taxi.

I felt a glimmer of hope when my boyfriend promised to pick me up an hour ago.

But now, two hours had passed, and he called to say he wasn't coming.

Then, I saw his assistant post something on social media.

"On this bitterly cold night, only Mr. Potter is warm."

The image was of two men's hands clasped together.

A shiver ran down my spine.

I felt colder than the freezing winter outside.

I casually commented, "Wishing Mr. Potter finds true love."

***

I glanced out the window at the still-falling snow.

I shut down my computer and got up to leave.

According to George Potter, he should have arrived by now.

My colleague Linda furrowed her brows in frustration.

"Ugh, with the buses and subways all shut down, I couldn't get a ride even after trying for half an hour. How are you planning to get home, Nancy White?"

I replied nonchalantly.

"My boyfriend is picking me up."

Linda immediately squinted with envy.

"I really envy you. You're so lucky to have such a thoughtful boyfriend!"

I smiled helplessly.

Thoughtful? If I told anyone, they might not believe it.

After three years of dating, this was the first time he had offered to pick me up.

And that's only because we had a huge fight last night.

He was trying to make peace this way.

Last night was our third anniversary.

I had made a reservation at a fancy restaurant and asked him to pick me up.

But right before leaving work, he texted to say he had to accompany a client unexpectedly, so I had to cancel dinner.

Ironically, I ended up spotting George's car on the way home.

In the passenger seat sat his pale, slender assistant, Mark Yukio.

So, was this the "important client" he mentioned?

I was struck by a bolt of shock and immediately called him to confirm.

I watched as he ignored my call and turned to chat with his assistant instead.

He had no idea I was witnessing everything from the side of the road.

When he finally returned home reeking of alcohol, he was still spinning excuses.

I sent him the photos I had taken of him and his assistant from the roadside.

Realizing he was caught, he exploded in anger.

"Nancy, what's your problem? Can't I bring my assistant to meet a client? Do you think anyone who's with me is having an affair? You're disgusting and perverted!"

But what he didn't know was that I had done more than take that one photo.

I had also tailed them in a cab and watched as they entered another restaurant.

I saw them sitting by the window, enjoying a meal together.

There weren't any clients in sight, but I couldn't be bothered to argue with him anymore.

I stood outside my office building, waiting for George to show up.

After half an hour, my feet were frozen stiff, and he sent me a message.

"Traffic is bad. Don't wait for me. I'm not going to make it."

Ha, I knew it. I don't know why I was hoping for a miracle.

But the next moment, I saw Mark's new post on social media.

"In this bitterly cold night, only Mr. Potter's heart is warm."

The picture showed two men's hands clasped together.

The background of the picture is George's Mercedes-Benz car.

So, the road to me was blocked, but the road to Mark was wide open.

It made me wonder if we were even in the same city.

My heart grew colder than the winter air around me.

Without any transportation, I walked through the heavy snow for two hours.

By the time I got home, my whole body was numb from the cold.

I didn't have the appetite for dinner and went straight to soak in a hot bath.

I must have fallen asleep because I was startled awake by the cold water.

I faintly heard the door open, so I got up, put on a robe, and walked out.

My sudden appearance made George jump.

"You're back. Why didn't you turn on the lights?"

I flicked on the light switch, and the bright light shone on his flushed, ruddy face, contrasting starkly with my pale, exhausted appearance.

My stare made him visibly uncomfortable.

"Seems like the traffic really was bad. It's got your blood pumping."

George heard the sarcasm in my voice and sheepishly explained.

"It's probably just that the car heater was turned up too high."

I sneered inwardly. He's really trying to play this off.

What he didn't know was that Mark had forgotten to block me from seeing that post.

I didn't return to the master bedroom. I went straight to the guest room to sleep.

After changing his clothes, George walked in.

"Are you mad because I didn't pick you up?"

Annoyed, I turned my back to him.

"No, it's normal that you couldn't make it with all the traffic today."

George suddenly became irritated.

"Then why are you giving me the cold shoulder and not sleeping in the same room?"

I couldn't be bothered to respond and pretended to fall asleep.

Behind me, I heard the heavy slam of the door caused by George.

In the past, whenever George got angry with me, I would become anxious and blame myself.

I would immediately start thinking about what I could have done better.

Then, I'd exhaust myself trying to figure out where I went wrong.

In the end, whether it was my fault or not, I would always be the one to apologize.

But this time, I suddenly felt like it didn't matter.

For once, I actually slept soundly until morning.

The next day, when I got up, George had already washed and dressed.

"Get ready. I'll drive you to work today."

After three years together, this was also the first time he had offered to drive me to work.

Usually, he drove himself to the office while I took the subway.

I guessed he still felt a bit guilty about leaving me stranded last night.

After quickly getting ready, I followed him to the car.

Wouldn't you know it, just as we pulled out of the garage, we ran into Mark at the gate.

Since I was in the car, George was planning to pretend he didn't see him.

But Mark waved and ran over.

"Mr. Potter... Oh, Nancy, you're here too! I just happened to see Mr. Potter's car while passing by..."

Apparently, with George blocking his view, he hadn't noticed me in the front passenger seat.

George naturally rolled down the window and opened the back door.

"Get in. We'll give you a lift."

But Mark hesitated by the front door.

"Mr. Potter, you know I get carsick. It's better if I sit in the front. Nancy, you don't mind, do you?"

I let out a cold and sarcastic laugh.

"Oh, I don't mind. I'll sit in the back."

I moved to the back seat, and through the rearview mirror, I clearly saw the smug and challenging look in Mark's eyes.

George didn't say a word the entire time.

So, what did it matter if I minded?

Might as well do a good deed and let this little homewrecker have his moment.