Chapter 3: Is It That Hard to Add Her into the Contact List?
Chapter 3: Is It That Hard to Add Her into the Contact List?
There were still twenty days left until her father’s trial. If she did not manage to collect and return the
money within these days, she was afraid that her father’s hair would turn white before the day he was
released out of jail came.
Investor?
Rachel hesitated when she remembered what Johnson had said just now. She took out her cell phone
from her pocket and scrolled up after opening the contact list. A number imprinted in her memory leapt
out at her.
Initially, she had remarked the number as “hubbie”. She even deliberately added an ‘a’ in front so that
his number would appear at the foremost section when she opened the contact list. © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.
Yet the number of times he phoned and texted her was too few and could be counted with a single
hand that after a long while she had changed the remark to ‘Kenneth Shawn’ and would not disturb him
when there was no important matter.
She called the number while tossing the cigarette into the toilet bowl and went out to rinse her mouth.
Her voice sounded a bit hoarse after smoking and if she did not do something about it, Kenneth would
be unhappy when he sensed it from her call.
“Hi, who’s there?”
The phone call got through very quickly, yet what made her blood froze was the one picking up was a
woman. Her question was proficient as if being experienced to receive these kinds of calls.
She asked once more when there was no reply, “Hello?”
Rachel only gained back her consciousness after a long while; she spoke with an uncanny tone of
voice, “I’m looking for Kenneth Shawn. Is he here?”
“Ken is still on a meeting.” The woman replied casually, as if she was the one having authority. “Please
tell me your name and which client you are, because Ken did not save your number…”
Rachel quickly hung up without letting her continue further. Her hands trembled and her phone dropped
with a clank. She picked it up hurriedly.
She saw her face from the broken screen of the phone. Not knowing when, there were tears flowing
down her cheeks and she seemed like she had lost everything from a bankruptcy, looking like a
drowned mouse.
They had been married for three years and they had gone through the four seasons for three times.
They would be like those old married couples as what people had said yet he never saved her phone
number.
Is it that hard to add her to the contact list?
And that woman…
Rachel felt a chill upon remembering the phone conversation three minutes ago.
Kenneth had been apathetic and it was true that Rachel suspected he had other mistress outside. Yet
both of them had signed the contract and if he derailed, he would need to suffer the consequence by
giving up the right of taking his property when they divorce.
Rachel used to have faith in him, yet how the woman from the phone addressed him affectionately
changed her mind.
Even the crevice which used to be obscure in her heart started to widen.
Rachel did not care whether today is weekday nor would Kenneth come home.
She left her workplace straight at half past five in the afternoon and bought some fresh fruits and
vegetables at the supermarket en route to her home.
Her cooking skills used to be excellent which she had learnt from her mother. She changed the dishes
every day for Kenneth after they were married yet most of the time it was her alone facing the dishes
she cooked no matter how delicious they were as Kenneth only went home once a week according to
contract.
After a long while, Rachel had become lazy to cook. They only assigned the cooking task randomly
when Kenneth came back during weekends and she would just order delivery when he was not around.
She only cooked occasionally for fun whenever she was having a good mood.
The phone was playing fairly loud music in the living room and she did not hear the sound of door
opening when she was bustling around in the kitchen. She was dealing with a yellow croaker on the
cutting board.
“Ouch!”
She accidentally scratched herself when she was pulling the fin and she gasped. Her finger was
covered in blood.
Before she could react, someone went to her back and her injured finger was grabbed by a big hand
and placed under the flowing water to clean.
His warm palm made her heartbeat jogged to a halt.
It seemed that every part of his body was warm, except the lips.
“Why didn’t you ask the seller to do it for you when you bought the fish?” Kenneth spoke. He wiped her
finger dry with a tissue paper and wrapped it with a plaster. His movement was gentle yet his
expression was still bland.
“I was too anxious until I forgot…,” Rachel muttered.