“He’s such a handsome guy, looking like a movie star, and he’s so good to his wife!”
“Right? He’s so protective of her. The other day when I spoke to him, he was cold as ice, but he always mentioned his wife.”
“Ugh, I wish I could meet a man like that!”
Shermaine overheard this while she was up, trying to walk around, and a bitter smirk appeared on her lips.
Was he really being caring?
Then why hadn’t he even bothered to ask the doctor how she was doing?
Why did he believe that a simple cold could make her suffer so much, causing her stomach to ache every day and her face to remain pale?
His daily attention was just so he could clear his evenings to be with another woman.
Shermaine almost felt exhausted for Ezra.
She quietly stepped to the stairwell and sent the photos from that night—of Ezra and Melanie’s affair—to the private detective.
She also messaged her lawyer friend.
[Less than a week left. Please make sure the agreement is ready.]
As she turned around, Shermaine overheard a familiar voice from the hallway.
“Stop it. I have to be with her during the day, but I’ll be with you at night, like always. Okay, okay. Just two more hours. Once I give her this afternoon’s medication, I’ll come to you right away. Don’t forget to wear the clothes I bought for you. I want to see them when I get back.”
Ezra stood by the window, the cold light streaming in, giving him an almost ethereal, statuesque appearance.
No one would have ever guessed that this seemingly perfect man would speak such intimate words to another woman.
The conversation continued, and Ezra’s tone grew more tense and agitated.
“Melanie, don’t even think about it. I told you, that’s my home with Shermaine. You have no right to interfere.”
In the quiet hallway, even without the speaker on, their words could be heard clearly.
Melanie seemed to have started crying, her voice soft and pleading, trying to coax Ezra.
He remained silent, his jaw clenched and his teeth grinding.
Ezra didn’t notice Shermaine standing behind him, pale and still.
Just then, a nurse passed by and called out.
“Ms. Stout, you’re still recovering. Don’t stand in the draft, or you’ll catch a cold again.”
