After Rita Hart fell asleep, Frank Thornton stepped onto the balcony.

I floated over and stood behind him, watching coldly.

He opened our chat history, with the most recent messages dated a week ago.

There were only a few messages, mostly sent by me.

At the bottom was the last message I sent him.

"Are you coming home tonight? I got you a gift."

It was our third anniversary.

But during that time, we were in the middle of a cold war. Knowing my own personality, if he didn't cut off contact with Rita Hart, I wouldn't have reached out to reconcile, let alone bought him a gift.

Why did...