Chapter 5: Caught Red-Handed
At 10:30, I checked the Ring app on my phone and saw a man knocking at my door.
When Savannah opened up, she was wearing nothing but a T-shirt.
The guy seemed excited. Savannah gave him a once-over, then stepped aside to let him in.
I almost floored the gas pedal.
No rush, no rush.
At eleven, I pulled up to my building.
My hand shook as I punched in the door code—messed it up once before getting in.
Inside, the place was a mess—lace panties, ripped stockings, all over the floor.
For an honest guy like me, it was a huge shock.
But Savannah was even quicker than I expected. The bedroom door swung open right in front of me.
A naked man was being shoved out. He pleaded toward the bedroom:
"Savannah, I flew here for you—don't kick me out so soon! If you want to try something different…"
Savannah's response was to throw his clothes at him.
"I sent you the money for the plane ticket. Now get out."
She strolled out lazily.
The guy wasn't giving up. "If you're not into me, I have a buddy—super handsome! Let me show you a picture."
"He's at a club nearby, we can all go hang out…"
She lifted her eyelids and glanced at the photo, but before she could say anything, she looked up—and saw me.
She went silent instantly.
The whole place was quiet.
The guy didn't even notice me—on his way out, he was still saying, "I sent you the address, come quick!"
Savannah slammed the door behind him.
She turned to me. "Why are you home early? Did you eat? Want me to order takeout?"
She acted totally natural, not a hint of guilt at being caught. But she was definitely talking more than usual.
I didn't answer a single word.
Savannah reached for the cigarettes in the coffee table drawer.
Suddenly I remembered: Savannah once really liked a guy who hated smoke. He couldn't stand secondhand, so she quit for a while.
Too bad he moved overseas, and they broke up because of the distance.
If they hadn't split, I probably wouldn't even be here.
After that, Savannah never quit smoking for anyone—not for me, that's for sure.
But I don't like secondhand smoke either, so I regularly tossed out the cigarettes at home.
Not finding any, Savannah scratched her head in frustration.
A few seconds later, she threw herself into my arms and kissed me.
I didn't close my eyes—I saw the look on her face, like she was heading to her execution.
I pushed her away.
Savannah's expression soured. She'd probably never been rejected by a man before—especially not by someone as average as me.
I asked, "Who was that guy just now?"
"What do you think?"
There was a flash of annoyance in her eyes.
"Dylan Brooks, have I spoiled you too much?"
"You're the one who chased me, who insisted on being with me. It's not like you didn't know what I was like. You accepted it, so why are you making a scene now?"
I gave a bitter laugh.
"I can accept that the person I'm chasing dates other people, breaks up, dates again."
"But I never said I could accept my wife cheating on me."
Savannah's hand trembled, her expression changing.
But after a moment, she said, "What's the difference? If you can't accept it, we can get a divorce."
She said "divorce" as lightly as she'd once said "let's break up" to her exes.
She was sure I couldn't let her go.
She thought I'd beg her, try to win her back—just like her exes did. Maybe even worse.
Honestly, I used to think so too.
The streetlights outside seemed broken—flickering like real stars.
But at four or five in the morning, they'd suddenly go out, snapping you awake.













