Ever since that time when I plucked up the courage but failed to confess, I had been in a dilemma.

Mrs. Richter sent me WhatsApp messages every now and then, inviting me to have a coffee at a cafe.

If I refused, she threatened me to tell Grace about our relationship.

I had no choice but to satisfy her.

Fortunately, Mrs. Richter didn't really ask me to do anything outrageous. She just chatted, complained, and occasionally made the occasional off-colour joke.

In this way, I carefully maintained a delicate balance between Grace and Mrs. Richter, feeling anxious every day as if I were walking a tightrope.

One day on the way home from work, I was "intercepted" by Mrs. Richter again.

In the coffee shop, she suddenly leaned over and blew in my ear, "Darling, are you free tomorrow night? Would you like to come to my house?"

When I heard this, I almost jumped out of my chair.

Seeing my shy demeanour, she laughed at me and said, "What's wrong? We haven't been together for so long. Don't you miss me? Don't worry about Grace. I'll find a way to get her out tomorrow night."

In the evening, Grace happily told me that Mrs. Richter had given her a concert ticket and asked me to eat by myself tomorrow.

The next day after work, Grace was indeed not at home.

I hesitated at Mrs. Richter's door.

"What are you waiting for? Come in!"

As soon as I entered the door, Mrs. Richter pounced on me, pushing me against the door and embracing me.

"Darling, do you miss me?"

Hearing this title, I shivered violently.

"Don't, don't call me like that. It's not good for your husband to hear. By the way, is your husband not at home?"

"He's always abroad. Otherwise, how could I be so lonely?"

Having said that, she was about to kiss me on the lips.

Just as we were about to touch, the doorbell suddenly rang.

The person who appeared on the screen was Grace!

I immediately panicked, and what made me even more panicked was that Mrs. Richter opened the door directly!

Grace and I stared at each other.

Grace looked puzzled and asked, "Honey, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I, I..." I was awkwardly trying to think of an excuse as Mrs. Richter spoke first, "I happened to see Mr. Lancelot getting off work, so I called him over first."

"Oh, I know." Grace suddenly realized, smiling, "Mrs. Richter invited us to dinner today. I was just about to call you but you came by yourself."

Sweat came down on my forehead and I asked Grace if she hadn't gone to the concert.

Grace smiled and said, "Mrs. Richter got the time wrong. The ticket is for tomorrow."

I secretly glanced at Mrs. Richter, and she winked at me with a mischievous look in her eyes.

I finally understood. She did it on purpose! She was so audacious!

But why did she do this? It was really confusing.

While Grace went to the kitchen to help, Mrs. Richter quietly tugged at my sleeve and said, "Darling, don't be mad at me. Just kidding."

I almost gritted my teeth and warned her not to make this kind of joke again.

My heart was about to pop out of my throat.

But Mrs. Richter acted as if nothing happened, with a smirk hanging at the corner of her mouth.

At this moment, Grace came out of the bathroom, so I quickly changed my expression.

Unexpectedly, she stared straight at my lips, eyes flashing with curiosity, as if she had discovered a new continent, "Oh, Milo, why are your lips so red? They're almost the same color as Mrs. Richter's lipstick."

As she said that, she even compared it with Mrs. Richter, "Look, the color is so right!"

I was startled to hear her words and hurriedly wiped my lips.

Unexpectedly, Grace suddenly burst into laughter, "Look at how nervous you are. Just kidding!"

After saying that, she and Mrs. Richter exchanged glances and both burst into laughter.

These two women almost scared me to death.

It was really both funny and annoying.

During dinner, I gradually felt a little dizzy after a few glasses of wine.

I wanted to go home quickly, but Mrs. Richter kindly invited us to stay at her house.

I wanted to decline, but Grace said yes right away, as she had been wanting to try Mrs. Richter's luxurious bathtub.

Not long after, I fell into a deep sleep under the influence of alcohol.

I was gently awakened by Grace's tender voice the next morning.

Opening my eyes, the unfamiliar surroundings startled me for a moment before I realized where I was.

I felt a hint of embarrassment and I hurriedly urged Grace to pack up and go home.

As I turned around, I accidentally noticed a faint red mark behind Grace's ear, which was particularly eye-catching.

"What happened?" I looked at her in confusion.

Blushing, Grace lowered her head shyly and said, "What else could it be? It's your 'masterpiece' from last night! I've told you to be more restrained at someone else's place, but you didn't listen. Look, it's so embarrassing."

There was a hint of coquetry and sweetness in her words, making me momentarily dazed.

I scratched my head, but my memory was like a broken film and I couldn't piece together the fragments of last night.

I felt regretful. Could my drinking skills become so bad?

Recalling a similar experience last time, I secretly made up my mind that I should drink less when going out in the future, so as not to cause trouble.

One day at work, my assistant Frank Smith came to me with a mysterious smile, "Mr. Lancelot, were you having a great time last night? You are really trendy."

I was confused and thought back for a long time, "Last night? I went home directly after socializing with Mr. Murphy. Weren't you with me too?"

Frank smiled even more cunningly, "Oh, Mr. Lancelot, there's no need to hide it. I saw with my own eyes that you and your wife went into a sex toy shop together."

"Wait a minute. Frank, are you mistaken?"

"No. The license plate number 5846 belongs to your wife, right? It's normal in today's society. My girlfriend and I occasionally experience it too. I know a shop that is particularly good. Shall I recommend it to you?"

Frank had a cunning expression.

However, I did go home after socializing last night. As for Grace, she said she went to attend an aromatherapy class with Mrs. Richter and came back very late.

If Frank was telling the truth, the person he saw definitely wasn't me.

That was a complicated situation.

What did this mean? I dared not think further.

To be honest, Grace's recent behavior had been a bit strange. She had many strange ideas since she met Mrs. Richter, but nothing else.

After being married for so many years, I couldn't believe that Grace would have an affair.

Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding?

I kept comforting myself like this, but I couldn't help but pay attention to Grace's actions and found many details that I hadn't noticed before.

For example, the clothes Grace wore before she left the house and after she came back were of the same style and colour, but definitely not the same one.

I summoned up the courage to ask, "Honey, why did you change your clothes when you came back today?"

She froze for a moment, then easily replied, "Oh, I sweated a lot during the yoga class today, so I took the clothes to dry clean. These are my spare clothes at the yoga studio."

Her explanation sounded reasonable.

Another morning, Grace stopped me before going out.

"Darling, Mrs. Richter invited me to attend a tea ceremony salon today. I will come back late in the evening. You can have dinner by yourself."

I agreed on the surface, but secretly decided to find out the truth.

I told Grace that I would work overtime in the evening, but I took leave from the company in advance and quietly ambushed the garage near my home.

In the evening, Grace left on time, and I followed closely behind.

When Grace drove towards the cafe where Mrs. Richter often invited me, I breathed a sigh of relief.

That was the cafe that Mrs. Richter liked. Maybe they did arrange to meet here.

I comforted myself.

However, the next scene made my heart beat faster.

The man who greeted Grace was a stranger to me, and they hugged tightly as soon as they met.

At that moment, it was as if I was struck by lightning, and all my speculations and uneasiness turned into reality.