After catching my wife in bed with another man, I remarried novel Chapter 2

I booked a flight to London.

I had given up my chance to study in the UK for Samantha, but now, it was time to take back control of my life.

When I landed, the first thing I did was reach out to my old professor from university. He had always been both a mentor and a friend, and as soon as he heard I wanted to pursue my PhD, he wasted no time offering me a spot.

Thanks to him, I settled into life in the UK quickly and began my doctoral studies.

And that’s when I met Emily.

She looked so much like a younger version of Samantha—high ponytail, pale skin, and those bright, sparkling eyes full of curiosity.

The day we met, her phone was stolen, and I helped the police catch the thief.

After that, she asked for my number. I found out she was an art student, a year behind me, and over time, we became close. She often insisted on buying me dinner to “repay” me, and I didn’t have the heart to refuse.

One day, she asked if I’d model for one of her projects. It didn’t seem like a big deal, so I agreed.

When we got to the studio, I felt a bit out of place. “What exactly do you need me to do?” I asked.

She was busy setting up her easel and answered casually, “Just take off your shirt.”

“All of it?” My voice shot up an octave.

Realizing how it sounded, she quickly corrected herself. “No, no! Just the top half.”

That was easier to handle. I wasn’t embarrassed—after all, I’d kept in good shape.

But even after trying a few different poses, nothing seemed to satisfy her. She eventually decided to step in and adjust me herself.

Her hands were warm as they grazed my lower back, sending an electric jolt through me—half from surprise, half from something else.

She slowly moved her hands up my spine, across my arms, then down to my abs.

Finally, her hands rested on my face, and as our eyes locked, I could feel her breath warm against my skin.

I could feel her breath, warm against my skin.

"Relax your eyes, like you're looking at someone you love."

Someone I love? Was she talking about Samantha at fifteen?

Whatever it was, something must have shown in my expression because Emily's face flushed bright red.

"That’s perfect, just like that."

I ended up sitting in that pose for hours, my neck stiff by the time we were done.

Thankfully, we finished before dark.

Even though she only managed to get a rough sketch, I could see how proud Emily was of it. She didn’t stop smiling, her eyes filled with admiration for her work.

"Ryan, thank you so much. With this piece, I’m definitely going to win the top honors for graduation this year."

As I put my shirt back on, a warmth spread through me—being needed by someone felt better than I could have imagined. My ears burned as the feeling sank in.

That’s when my phone rang. It was my mom, her voice shaky and thick with tears.

"Ryan, what’s going on with you and Samantha? She had your dad’s treatment stopped. He’s only surviving on machines right now. If we don’t keep it going, what’ll happen to him? The doctor says we need to pay 71,000 dollars upfront for the week. Where am I going to get that kind of money?"

"Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll transfer 28,000 dollars from my account now, and I’ll figure out the rest later."

After I hung up, I quickly said goodbye to Emily and started scrambling for the money. But it seemed like Samantha had anticipated my every move.

Every friend I reached out to suddenly didn’t have the cash to lend. Worse, they all advised the same thing.

"Just go home, man. A guy like you shouldn’t be picking a fight with his wife."

I was backed into a corner, forced to swallow my pride, and called Samantha.

She answered after a few rings, and the first thing I heard was her moaning.

At that moment, I wished I could sink into the ground and disappear.

Her eyes were red, filled with nothing but concern and hurt.

"Get up!" It was the first time I’d ever seen Emily get mad at me.

"Emily, I’ve got something going on here, you—"

I didn’t even finish before she shoved a card into my hand. "There’s 330,000 pounds on this. Use it for

your dad."

She must have overheard the conversation between my mom and me at the studio.

For some reason, at that moment, my throat felt tight, like I’d swallowed a ball of cotton soaked in vinegar.

It stung. It ached.

"Samantha, who the hell is she?" Samantha had been enjoying every second of my humiliation, but when she saw a young woman suddenly step in and so generously offer help, a pang of jealousy flashed across her face.

I didn’t care to explain a thing to her. Without another word, I ended the call. There was no room for politeness or pride with Emily right now.

"This money counts as a loan. I’ll write you an IOU when we get back," I said.

Emily knew I wouldn’t take the money unless she agreed to treat it as a loan, so she nodded.

I wired the money to my mom right away and caught the next flight home.

Emily came with me. She said she wanted to visit her parents, but I knew it was because she was worried about me.

We had just landed when my phone rang again. My mom’s voice was hoarse.

"Ryan, your dad’s gone."