Chapter 3The Hunt for a Husband

He tossed his suitcase casually:

"Pack a few summer outfits, I have to leave again next week."

I smelled the unfamiliar scent he brought back and looked at him calmly:

"Has this month's salary come in yet?"

His hand loosening his tie paused, frowning at me:

"Are you done yet? I just stepped in the door, haven't even caught my breath, and all you know is money money money?"

Seeing the undisguised annoyance on his face, the question I had rolled over in my heart countless times almost burst out.

Immediately, Lawyer Lu's warning flashed through my mind:

"Stay calm until you have a complete chain of evidence."

Seeing him put on his jacket again.

I turned and brought out a bowl of rib soup from the kitchen:

"Dinner is ready, want to eat a little?"

His Adam's apple moved, and he finally hung the coat back up:

"I told you, let the old folks cover it first. When I turn things around here, I'll pay them back every cent."

"Mn, got it."

I lowered my eyes and served myself a bowl:

"I won't bother you about the child's matters anymore."

He seemed very satisfied with this answer, picked up his chopsticks, and put the biggest rib into his own bowl.

From this moment on, I defend my rights.

The target is the husband who has shared my bed for five years.

Sarah's hunch was right.

Caleb's shrewdness and defensiveness far exceeded my imagination.

His phone password was changed. I could only carefully unlock it with his fingerprint after he fell asleep.

Chat history deleted clean.

Contacts had no suspicious signals.

Transfer records were as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

Plus all the methods I learned online:

Checking takeout addresses, hotel orders, shared device login records... nothing found.

I leaned against the wall, looking at his sleeping profile.

The child is two years old.

The family's assets have long been diluted to almost nothing by his excuses of failed investments, company pay cuts, and bank repayments.

The bride price, dowry, and all my pre-marital savings were squeezed dry.

Five years.

Over one thousand eight hundred days and nights.

What is your next target?

"Did you take the photos?"

Just as dawn broke, Lawyer Lu's message popped up.

"Taken, but he seems to be guarding against me. Not a single bank card, not even his ID is in the wallet. Can we still apply for an investigation order like this?"

The reply came quickly:

"Investigation order? That's not what you should be thinking about now. Tell me first, what's in the wallet."

I sent all the photos from my phone:

A gas card, a supermarket shopping card, several cake coupons from different brands, a credit card, nothing else.

Looking at the empty card slots, that sense of powerlessness hit again.

"Is it... am I out of chances?"

Almost at the same time the message was sent, his reply came.

No text, just a grinning emoji.

Followed by two lines:

"It's secure. I guarantee you win this round. But there's one thing, you have to find a way to make him come home again in a few days."

"What do you mean? Is it possible he won't come home anymore?"

"Very possible. Mia's birthday is in two days. If I'm not wrong, what you'll be waiting for next should be his divorce agreement."

"Divorce agreement?"

"Yes. I think his return this time was to collect valuable documents. Go check the property deed and such, they should be gone."

My heart tightened, and I quickly opened the home safe.

Sure enough.

All important documents were gone.

"Okay."

His voice pulled me back to reality:

"Next, follow every step I say. Buy back the cards you photographed on your phone exactly as they are."

I took a deep breath and rushed to the gas station.

Bought a $1000 gas card matching the photo.

Then the mall, a $2000 shopping card.

Bought the $300 stored-value card from the cake shop too.

Watching the balance shrink instantly, my fingertips went cold.

But I still took a deep breath and dialed Caleb's number.

"Husband, tomorrow is our daughter's birthday. Should we... invite the elders to eat together?"

Silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"No need, Zoey."

His voice was terrifyingly calm:

"Let's get a divorce."