2

I slept soundly and woke up early the next morning. The first thing I did was call my best friend Dale to ask her to help me sell the virtual currency in my overseas account. I didn’t go to work, but when it comes to investments, I actually have my own set of insights, though I’ve never told Frank about them. Frank didn't come home all night, and by the time I was almost finished with breakfast, he finally returned, looking exhausted. He exuded a fresh scent of rose body wash, exactly the same as that from Giselle's home. "Giselle twisted her ankle last night, and I was worried she couldn't move around. I stayed with her all night to make sure she had water to drink. “She’s always focused on her career and doesn’t know how to take care of herself. She needs someone by her side.” I didn’t respond. I already knew about this. This morning, Giselle posted on her social media: 【Who’s being pampered? Oh, it’s me!】 The photo showed a man sleeping on the table. The ring on the man’s hand was Frank and my wedding ring. I recalled the last time I was hospitalized. I asked Frank if he could come to take care of me, but he refused outright. “I’m a big man, clumsy and awkward. I’m afraid I won’t be able to take care of you properly.” In the end, I endured the entire treatment alone in the hospital. I lowered my head to eat breakfast, chewing on this bitter taste. Clearly, Frank is my husband. Clearly, he once loved me deeply. During our honeymoon phase, when I had a simple case of gastroenteritis, Frank drove 300 kilometers in the middle of the night from his business trip just to ensure I could eat a bowl of chicken soup he cooked when I woke up. When did we start becoming like this? It began when Giselle increasingly became involved in our lives. “How about the surrogacy arrangement? Have you thought it through?” Frank looked at me questioningly, “Giselle really wants a child…” I slammed down my coffee cup and mustered the courage to say, “I think this is inappropriate. Let’s refuse Giselle.” Disappointment filled Frank’s eyes. Just as he was about to speak, the doorbell rang. It was Giselle. She was wearing high heels, her brown curly hair cascading loosely down her shoulders, her graceful figure leaning lazily against the doorframe. I didn’t ask her why she was wearing high heels today after spraining her ankle yesterday; I just stared at her and said: “Giselle, you’re here just in time. I want to tell you that after much consideration, I still think I can't be a surrogate for you .” She probably didn't expect that her sister, who had always granted her every request, would refuse her this time. Giselle puckered her lips and scolded me unhappily: "Sister, you know my job doesn't allow me to gain weight or look ugly. Can't you help me carry a child? "Anyway, you're just a housewife who spends all day in the kitchen and bathroom. What's wrong with being a little ugly? “Isn't the role of a housewife just to give birth and do housework ?” I listened quietly as Giselle ranted on, glancing sideways at Frank. He didn't seem to be scolding Giselle; instead, he looked like he agreed with her. I don't know if I'm mistaken. It seems that he still has a bit of... Feeling sorry for her? My heart sank. His attitude made me feel cold. "I don't agree. I just chose to be a housewife, not a slave." " Faced with my cold refusal, Giselle fell silent and just picked up her bag and left in a huff. Hearing the sound of the door closing, Frank was fidgeting. He looked at me and then outside with extreme impatience, wanting to say something but stopping himself. It was I who took the initiative to speak up: "Go after her. She just sprained her ankle and walked so fast. What if she get hurt even more?" " Frank ran out at once. Ten minutes later, I received a video in which Frank and Giselle were passionately kissing in the car. It was sent by Giselle. Immediately after she posted the video, she added a sentence: "You dare not to agree to my request? This is your punishment."