Love Like a Torrent Chapter 1

It was a torrential downpour.

I was stuck in traffic, blocked by a rear-end collision up ahead. Just as I was about to make a U-turn and get out of there, I saw my husband, Phillip, step out of the front car.

He held an umbrella over a woman, pulling her into his arms and comforting her in a soft, gentle voice. "I'm here. Don't worry."

My breath caught in my throat. I remembered Phillip's apology to me just this afternoon. "My darling wife, something urgent came up at the office. I really can't make it back."

He had been so full of guilt, promising me, "From now on, I will be with you for every single anniversary. I swear it!"

The man who was swearing his undying loyalty this afternoon was now holding another woman, arguing with the driver of the other car. "You need to apologize to my wife, right now!"

My hands trembled on the steering wheel as I picked up my phone and dialed Phillip's number.

* * *

I watched as Phillip pulled out his phone. The moment he saw my name on the screen, his expression shifted.

The woman he was holding glanced at the phone, saw my contact name, and her eyes instantly reddened. She clutched the lapel of his coat.

"Phillip," she whimpered, "you promised you'd be with me today." Her ankle was swollen. "My foot hurts so much."

And then, I watched as Phillip hesitated for a few seconds before declining my call. A moment later, a text message appeared on my screen.

[Honey, I'm still swamped.]

[I'll call you back as soon as I'm done, okay?]

I could see him staring at his phone, the pale white light reflecting off his anxious face. When I didn't reply, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and held the woman even tighter.

Today was our seventh wedding anniversary. The restaurant we had booked called to check in.

"Ms. Erwin?"

"The cake your husband ordered for you has arrived. Shall we put it in the refrigerator for you?"

The bakery that makes my favorite cake is all the way across town and notoriously hard to book, but every year, Phillip would place the order two months in advance. Halfway through our candlelit dinner, he’d bring it out and we'd make a promise for the year to come.

"Yes, please," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. I watched as the tow truck hauled away the damaged cars. Phillip had settled things with the other driver, and the gridlocked traffic was finally starting to move.

As I drove past him, I saw Phillip glance at his phone again, then put it away and look up.

Our eyes met.

In that instant, I saw his expression freeze. A second later, my phone rang again. It was Phillip. I didn't answer immediately. Just as he had let me wait, I let him wait, too.

I let it ring and ring. When he called for the fifth time, I finally pressed the answer button.

"Honey," he said, a barely concealed panic in his voice. "Are you at the restaurant yet?"

He was testing me.

"The restaurant just called to say the cake arrived," he continued, his tone laced with a practiced cheerfulness. "I really, really wanted to be there with you. If it wasn't for this project, I would have dropped everything to be by your side. You have to forgive me."

Listening to his voice, a dense, sharp pain spread through my chest. Still, I said, "Okay."

Phillip asked where I was. For a moment, I considered getting out of the car and confronting him right there. But I pushed the impulse down.

"I'm right at the entrance," I told him.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"I've asked Mia to join me," I said, "so I have to go."

Later, sitting across from me, my best friend Mia sighed wistfully. "Your Phillip really is a romantic. The flowers, the gifts, the cake—always right on time, every year."

"I used to hate that son of a bitch," she said, taking a bite of her food. "But you have to admit, the bastard really pulled through and made something of himself."

Mia had never approved of Phillip. In her eyes, he had married up. But love isn't about status.

Now, watching even Mia sing his praises, I found it all so absurd. So absurd, in fact, that I actually laughed out loud.

"Oh, the bastard pulled something, all right," I told her.

"Phillip is cheating on me."