The Perfect Affair, the Perfect Trap

I scrolled past a post: How to have an affair and get away with it?

There was an anonymous, highly upvoted answer.

Move into an apartment downstairs from her, buy identical furniture, use the same scented candles, even the same brand of shower gel.

That way, even if you smell of it, your wife will just think it's the smell of home.

Someone below asked: "That's brilliant? Have you actually done it?"

The user replied: "In progress. Just showered at the downstairs place and came back up. My wife's hugging me now, telling me how good I smell."

I leaned down and sniffed my sleeping husband.

He carried the familiar scent of white tea.

And he'd just left, claiming he was taking out the trash, but was gone for an hour and a half.

A strange impulse led me to unlock his phone.

Everything seemed normal.

Except for a purchase record for shower gel.

The delivery address was "Building 8, Apartment 801, this community."

My home was in Building 8, Apartment 601.

I stared intently at the online order page.

"Elizabeth Arden White Tea Shower Gel, 500ml, two-pack."

"Delivery address: Building 8, Apartment 801, Recipient: Mr. Lewis."

And I was sleeping in Building 8, Apartment 601.

"Honey, you smell wonderful, like home."

That was the first thing he said to me when he came back from "taking out the trash" downstairs tonight, holding me tight.

Even though he was gone for an hour and a half.

Even though his hair looked freshly blow-dried and fluffy when he returned.

I'd brushed away my suspicions because of that familiar scent.

Until I, on a whim, unlocked his phone.

I refused to believe it.

Liam Lewis, the model husband in everyone's eyes, would betray me.

I didn't wake him.

Years of professional experience allowed me to quickly regain my composure, even though my fingers were still uncontrollably trembling.

I opened his browsing history.

The first item was a forum Q&A post.

"How to have an affair and get away with it?"

That anonymous, highly upvoted answer was posted by his account.

"Move into an apartment downstairs from her, buy identical furniture, use the same scented candles, even the same brand of shower gel."

"That way, even if you smell of it, your wife will just think it's the smell of home."

The timestamp on the follow-up question was ten minutes ago.

"That's brilliant? Have you actually done it?"

He replied: "In progress. Just showered at the downstairs place and came back up. My wife's hugging me now, telling me how good I smell. What do you call that? Hiding in plain sight. A woman's intuition is a joke in the face of absolute detail."

I suppressed the nausea, took screenshots of these pages one by one, and uploaded them to my cloud drive.

Then, I quietly left the bedroom.

In the living room, moonlight spilled onto the sofa.

It was the one we'd chosen when we got married, after I'd scoured every furniture store in town. He'd said, "Whatever you like, darling, it's fine by me."

According to the post.

Now, directly above me, two floors up in Apartment 801.

There was an identical sofa.

Perhaps just an hour ago, he and another woman were intimately entangled on that very same sofa.

I had to go up and see.

I had to see it with my own eyes.

I stood before the closed security door of 801.

The door bore a sticker identical to ours: a red background with gold letters wishing good fortune.

I held my breath, pressing my ear against the door.

Faintly, piano music drifted out.

It was "Wedding Dream."

It was also my favorite piece to play when I had free time at home on weekends.

Liam used to say he loved hearing me play that song most of all.

Now, the woman inside was not only using my shower gel, sleeping with my husband, but she was even mimicking my life.

The next morning.

Sunlight streamed into the bedroom. Liam woke up as usual and gave me a good morning kiss.

"Morning, sweetheart."

"Morning." I forced a smile, placing his fried eggs in front of him. "Sleep well last night?"

Liam took a sip of milk, his expression perfectly calm. "Very well, I always sleep so soundly next to you. Oh, by the way, some apartment upstairs was playing the piano late last night, it was a bit noisy. You heard it too, right?"

"Really?" I feigned nonchalance. "I'm a heavy sleeper, didn't hear a thing. But the soundproofing here isn't great. I'll complain to the building management sometime."

"Don't!" Liam reacted quickly. "I mean, we're neighbors, no need to make things awkward. Maybe it's someone new who doesn't know the rules yet, it'll probably be fine in a few days."

"Someone new?" I looked up at him. "How do you know they're new?"

Liam's eyes flickered. "Oh, I ran into the building manager last night when I was taking out the trash, and he mentioned someone just moved into the 8th floor."

"The 8th floor That is pretty close."

Liam seemed unwilling to linger on the topic and quickly changed the subject. "By the way, darling, can I pick you up from work today? We haven't been to that Japanese restaurant in ages."

"No need, I have to work late today." I declined. "You go ahead and eat."

A flicker of delight crossed his eyes, though he said, "You work too hard, sweetheart. Remember to eat on time."

Of course he was happy.

My overtime meant he had more time to go to 801, to be with his "baby."

After seeing Liam off, I didn't go to work.

I went straight to the apartment complex's management office.

"Hello, I'd like to ask who the owner of Building 8, Apartment 801 is? I'm from 601, and my bathroom is leaking. I suspect the waterproofing upstairs isn't done properly, but no one answers when I knock."

The front desk assistant checked her computer. "801? The owner is registered as a Ms. Chloe Sterling."

Chloe Sterling.

At the sound of the name, my mind quickly searched Liam's circle of acquaintances.

No one by that name.

"Did she just move in?" I asked again.

"No, the apartment was renovated about half a year ago, but it's been empty until recently. Someone just started moving in and out, it seems." The front desk assistant looked at me strangely. "And that apartment when it was renovated, the permit was issued at the same time as yours. It seems to be the same interior design company."

I froze.

The same interior design company.

Half a year ago.

So, as early as six months ago, or even earlier, Liam had been planning all of this.

Leaving the management office, I sat on a bench in the community garden and opened that forum post.

Sure enough, Liam had updated it.

"My wife's working overtime today, divine intervention! Almost got caught last night because of the piano, luckily I reacted quickly. Today I'm planning to buy the woman upstairs an identical robot vacuum, otherwise I'll have to clean myself, it's too much work. Oh, someone asked if I get the two homes mixed up. Actually, as long as you fix the position of everything, muscle memory takes care of it."

Someone commented below: "The poster is truly a time management guru, but don't you think this is a bit twisted?"

He replied: "Twisted? This is about pursuing perfection. I've provided my wife with a privileged life and given my mistress perfect companionship. I haven't wronged anyone."

At that moment, a woman walked past me.

The woman was quite delicate-looking, probably in her early twenties. She seemed to be on the phone, her voice sweetly melodious.

"Honey, I know, I'll open the robot vacuum when it arrives... You come up early tonight, okay? Remember not to go to the wrong door, hehe."

As she passed me, a familiar scent of shower gel wafted from her.

I stared intently at her retreating back.

Chloe Sterling.

This was the woman living in 801, wearing my clothes, using my perfume, sleeping with my husband.

A strong desire for revenge surged in my mind.

Liam, since you enjoy playing this substitution game.

Then I will play along.

Over the next few days, I behaved exceptionally docilely.

I went to work as usual, came home, and cooked dinner. I expressed understanding for Liam's late returns, and even gently told him to take care of himself when he claimed he had company meetings and couldn't come home for dinner.

Liam clearly relished this situation.

He boasted on the forum: "My wife has been especially understanding lately. It seems my strategy is working. As long as I don't show any flaws, she'll always be that happy little fool. Tonight, I plan to try out the new projector in 801. It's the same model as the one downstairs, so I won't even need to adjust to a different remote."

Friday evening.

I purposely bought a bouquet of fresh flowers and came home early.

As I entered, Liam was on the balcony talking on the phone. Seeing me, he hung up in a hurry and came to greet me.

"Honey, why are you home so early today?"

"It's the fifth anniversary of us meeting, darling, did you forget?" I smiled, handing him the flowers.

Liam paused, clearly having forgotten.

All his brain cells were tied up juggling two women; he had no time for such dates.

But he reacted quickly, immediately slapping his forehead. "Oh, my mind! Of course I remember! I was just about to surprise you!"

"Really? What surprise?"

"Um... actually, I ordered a cake, it'll be delivered soon." He bluffed.

I sneered inwardly. That cake, I bet it was for Chloe Sterling upstairs, wasn't it?

"That's wonderful," I linked my arm through his. "By the way, darling, I wanted to discuss something with you."

"What is it?"

"My mom hasn't been feeling well lately and wants to come to the city for a check-up. I was thinking our apartment, although it's two bedrooms, the second bedroom is too small, and Mom wouldn't be comfortable. I saw Apartment 801 upstairs seems to be empty. How about we ask if we can rent it for a few days?"

Liam's face instantly stiffened.

"That... that's not necessary, is it?" he stammered. "Your mom can just stay with us, we'll make do. Besides, it's such a hassle to rent someone's apartment, and... and 801 is occupied."

"Occupied? Didn't you say last time they just moved in and you weren't familiar with them?"

"Ah... yes, it's precisely because we're not familiar that it's awkward to ask." Cold sweat beaded on Liam's forehead. "Honey, why are you suddenly so interested in the upstairs apartment?"

"I'm just thinking about Mom." I released his arm and turned to the kitchen for plates and utensils. "Fine, then Mom can stay in the second bedroom. But..."

"But I think our apartment's decor is a bit outdated. You know, I wonder if 801 is decorated better. I really want to go up and see."

"Clang!"

Liam's phone slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.

"Honey, you... what are you talking about?" He bent to pick up his phone, his hand trembling violently.

"Nothing, just an observation." I smiled. "Let's eat."

Liam picked at his food, barely tasting it.

He frequently checked his phone, his eyes darting around.

I knew he was messaging Chloe, telling her to be quiet tonight, to make absolutely no noise.

But what he didn't know was.

I had already contacted my family.

My dad, a retired military man, with a fiery temper.

My brother, a fitness trainer, who could knock out an ox with one punch.

And my best friend, a famous relationship blogger in the city, specializing in catching cheaters live, with five million followers.

I told Liam I'd be going to a neighboring city for a two-day business trip tomorrow, attending a closed training session.

The joy in Liam's eyes almost overflowed, but he still feigned concern, holding me: "Honey, I'll miss you. Be careful while you're away."

Don't worry, I'll certainly give you a weekend you won't forget.

Saturday afternoon.

I sent Liam a text: "Honey, I've arrived at the hotel. The signal here isn't great, so I might be out of touch. Don't worry about me."

Liam replied instantly: "Okay, darling. You work hard, get some rest."

Putting down my phone, I wasn't at a hotel in a neighboring city.

I was sitting in a private room at a coffee shop across from our apartment complex.

A laptop sat before me, the screen displaying the real-time interface of that forum.

Liam's post had updated: "Finally free! My wife's away for two days, tonight I'm going to totally relax in 801. That apartment is my utopia, no need to pretend, no need to act. Tonight, I'm taking the red wine from downstairs up to share with my baby."

I looked at the screen, a cold smile curling my lips.

No need to pretend? No need to act?

Tonight, I'll let you act to your heart's content.

Eight o'clock in the evening.

Dusk had fallen.

Lights began to flicker on across the apartment complex.

Through binoculars, I clearly saw the curtains in Apartment 801 drawn.

The position of that window was exactly the same as our living room.

"Is everyone here?" I turned to my best friend beside me.

My friend adjusted the camera in her hand and gave an OK gesture. "Don't worry, the live stream is preheating. The title is 'Live Reveal: The Perfect Cheater Who Duplicated His Home,' and online viewers have already surpassed one hundred thousand."

I looked to the other side.

My dad and brother stood with grim faces, carrying sledgehammers and wrenches bought from a hardware store.

And the building manager I'd specifically invited, along with a few nosy elderly neighbors who loved to gossip.

"Let's go."

I stood up, adjusting my collar. "Time to deliver a surprise to Mr. Lewis."

The group marched into the apartment complex, heading straight for Building 8.

The elevator numbers flickered.

My heartbeat, however, remained unusually steady.

"Ding "

Eighth floor.

A crowd poured out of the elevator, blocking the entrance to 801.

The building manager, nervously wiping sweat from his brow, knocked hard on the door, following the script I'd given him.

"Open up! Open up! Downstairs is reporting a serious leak, we need to inspect immediately!"

No movement from inside.

"Hurry up! If you don't open the door, we'll have to force our way in! It concerns public safety!" The building manager raised his voice.

After about thirty seconds, Liam's impatient voice came from inside.

"Who is it! What's all the noise this late at night! There's no leak!"

"Sir, the downstairs apartment is flooded! If you don't cooperate, we'll have to call the police!"

At the mention of "police," the door finally opened.

Liam only opened the door a crack, his face full of anger as he poked his head out. "Are you people crazy? I told you there's no..."

Before he could finish.

My brother kicked the door hard.

"Bang!" The security door slammed against the wall. Liam stumbled backward from the force, almost falling.

The door swung wide open.

Everyone's gaze instantly focused on the interior.

Despite being mentally prepared, seeing the scene with my own eyes was still absurd.

It really was.

Exactly the same.

This place was a copy-paste of 601 downstairs.

He stared in horror at the invading crowd.

First, he saw my best friend holding the camera, then my grim-faced parents, and finally, his gaze settled on me, standing right in the center of the crowd.

In that instant, his expression was as if he'd seen a ghost.

"H-honey? How are you..."

His voice was trembling, and his legs were shaking too.

"Darling, what's wrong? What's all the commotion?"

The bedroom door opened.

Chloe Sterling walked out, her eyes heavy with sleep.

Seeing the room full of people, she let out a shriek, wanting to retreat back into the room, but it was too late.

The live stream instantly exploded.

Bullet comments scrolled frantically: "Holy cow! Is this guy a psycho?!" "Even horror movies aren't made like this!" "This is the poster? Incredible!"

Liam's face was ashen, drained of all color.

He looked at Chloe, then at the room full of familiar furniture, and finally at me.

"Honey, listen to me... this... this is a misunderstanding..."