Chapter 19 – Too Many Questions
Evan could not wait to open the first video.
The speakers immediately produced a clear, formal narrator's voice.
"Chapter One: Correctly Understanding Physiological Differences Between Men and Women."
Evan frowned.
He hit fast-forward.
"Chapter Two: How Young Men Should Face Inner Anxiety During Puberty."
Evan refused to give up and clicked farther ahead.
"Chapter Three: Basic Legal Protection for Minors."
Evan went completely numb.
What the hell was this?
Why was it completely different from what he had imagined?
Speechless, he tossed the laptop aside and leaned back against the pillow like a man betrayed by the universe.
Then a thought flashed through his mind.
Unwilling to die, he pulled the laptop back and began checking other folders on the D drive one by one.
Several folders opened into boring work reports and lesson plans.
Evan had no interest in any of that.
Then his eyes landed on a folder named Photos.
His heart itched.
Maybe there were private beautiful photos of Hannah inside.
He double-clicked.
A password box popped up.
Evan refused to give up. He tried a few common passwords.
123456.
Six eights.
Six zeros.
None worked.
Just as he was about to quit, another thought appeared.
Women often used birthdays as passwords.
But he did not know Hannah's birthday.
Wait.
He did.
That day in the department office, the staff information board on the wall had clearly shown her birth date.
Evan narrowed his eyes and searched his memory.
Finally, he remembered the numbers.
He typed the eight digits into the password box, licked his dry lips, and pressed Enter.
Click.
The folder opened.
Evan nearly shouted.
But the owner of the laptop was sitting outside in the living room, so he clapped a hand over his mouth.
The instant the screen changed, his heart almost jumped out of his throat.
He had to admit it.
The thrill of secretly peeking into another person's privacy was dangerously addictive.
Rows of thumbnails appeared.
Evan opened the first one.
It was an old graduation photo, probably from Hannah's university days. She wore a loose gown and looked pure, clean, and much younger.
He clicked through several more.
Many were photos of Hannah with the beautiful pear-shaped friend from the massage place. That friend really was attractive too.
Farther down were travel photos with Rowan. Some were scenic, some were solo shots of Hannah, but all were normal outfits, nothing too revealing.
Evan kept clicking patiently.
Finally.
He saw what he had most wanted to see.
In one photo, Hannah wore a black silk slip dress and knelt lazily on a large bed. The skirt was short, the pose soft, and her eyes looked directly into the lens with a kind of slow heat that made Evan's throat tighten.
It should have been a boudoir art shoot from a studio.
The scale was not obscene, but for Hannah, it was already bold.
Evan pressed the arrow key quickly.
It was a whole set.
After that came several beach swimsuit photos. The swimsuits were fairly proper, nothing too outrageous.
That made sense.
Hannah was a teacher. She would not have taken tacky photos.
But with her figure, even a proper swimsuit could become a dangerous weapon.
Looking at those photos, Evan's earlier question returned.
How had a woman this beautiful, this full of life, ever fallen for Rowan?
Rowan was ordinary at best. Polite, educated, maybe. But nothing special.
Unless he had some hidden advantage?
No.
That did not make sense either.
Rowan had problems in that area. Since he and Hannah had married after dating freely, that meant the problem likely existed before marriage too.
If he had been useless in bed from the start, what had Hannah wanted from him?
Suddenly, Evan remembered the things Hannah had said when she was drunk.
Going abroad to wash dishes.
Refusing inheritance from the family.
Those broken phrases suggested Rowan's real background was not simple at all.
When Rowan had chatted with him before, he claimed to be an ordinary office clerk at some small company.
Now that Evan thought about it, that was nonsense.
Take this apartment.
High-end central Harbor City neighborhood, large three-bedroom layout. Forget the location. Just the luxury renovation inside was beyond ordinary families. New big-screen television, automatic washing machine, imported double-door refrigerator.
Even the laptop on Evan's lap was an expensive imported model.
Hannah's dressing table was full of top-brand bottles and jars.
If Rowan were truly just a clerk earning a few thousand a month, how could he support this kind of life?
Then there was Rowan's insane face when he forced Evan into that baby arrangement.
He had said that if Hannah could not get pregnant, their fate would completely change.
All signs pointed to one answer.
Rowan had a large mess behind him.
Forget it.
Why burn brain cells?
Evan lazily compressed those private photos into a file and sent the archive to his own account, hiding it in private cloud storage.
Just as the upload completed, a loud crash came from the living room.
Then came Hannah's painful cry.
Evan's heart tightened.
He sprang off the bed and rushed out without even putting on slippers, running barefoot toward the kitchen.
When he charged in, he saw Hannah sitting on the floor in pain, both hands gripping her ankle.
A wooden chair lay overturned in the middle of the kitchen.
Looking up, he saw the ceiling light cover half removed.
Apparently the kitchen light had broken, and Hannah had tried to stand on the chair to change the bulb herself.
She must have lost balance and fallen.
Author's Note:
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