Taking Care of His Best Friend's Wife Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Cracks in the Picture Frame

I gave my husband my youth, my love, my unwavering trust. I thought we were building a forever. Then I received a sonogram from his childhood "sister," the recently widowed woman he swore was just family. "Thank you, brother," the message read. Now, as I sign the divorce papers with a steady hand, he's on his knees, begging for a forgiveness he burned to ashes.

The scent of the lemon polish I’d used to clean the living room still hung in the air. Our home, a place I’d curated with so much love, felt like a stage set. My phone, resting on the granite countertop, lit up with a notification.

It was a photo from Su Qing. A grainy, black-and-white image. A sonogram.

My breath hitched. Happiness for her, this young widow, was my first, automatic thought. It was quickly followed by a pang of sorrow for her loss. Then, my eyes, traitorously efficient, dropped to the caption.

"A new beginning. So grateful to have you by my side through this, big brother Chen. Thank you for everything."

And then I saw it. The field labeled 'Father'.

Lu Chen.

The world didn't shatter. It didn't explode. It simply… tilted. The clean lines of my kitchen warped. The lemon scent turned cloying, sickly.

My husband. The father of Su Qing's child.

My fingers were numb as I typed a single, trembling question mark in the comments.

The phone rang in less than a minute. His name flashed on the screen, a beacon of normalcy that now felt like a lie.

I swiped to answer, bringing the device to my ear. I couldn't speak.

"Lin Wan?" His voice was tight, strained. Not with guilt. With anger. "What was that? Why would you comment something like that on her post?"

I found my voice, a hollow thing. "The father's name… it says Lu Chen."

He sighed, a sound of profound exasperation. "Is that what this is about? She's alone! She's grieving! She just wanted a piece of happiness, a child to love. I helped her. As a friend. As family. Can you for once stop being so suspicious and show a little compassion?"

Compassion.

The word echoed in the silence he left behind after hanging up. It bounced off the memories that now assaulted me.

Su Qing, showing up at our door with red-rimmed eyes after her husband's funeral. Lu Chen holding her, his voice a soft murmur I rarely heard anymore.

Su Qing, calling at midnight because a pipe was leaking. Lu Chen pulling on his clothes, leaving our warm bed without a second glance.

Su Qing, her hand "accidentally" brushing his at the dinner table. His soft laugh at her jokes, a sound that had become scarce in our own conversations.

He called it being a rock. A big brother.

I looked around our perfect, silent home.

It felt like a beautifully decorated tomb.