I stared at the system panel for a moment, lost in thought.
Days passed as I continued completing the daily tasks, earning experience points and attribute points each time. The most noticeable change was the fluctuation in my meditation technique's attribute points—it seemed to be gradually reducing just like the drinking milk quest, showing a similar pattern.
From experience, I knew this meant the system was undergoing another abnormal change. Still, my experience points weren't enough for another level-up yet. I decided to ignore it and simply maintain my routine, completing the daily system tasks as usual.
Things, however, weren't as simple outside my own world.
From John's perspective, everything felt like it was falling apart.
I felt like I was living with a completely different person. Elina's distance cut deeper than any argument ever had.
Worse still was the terrifying thought that she might believe I had done it more than once—a thought I didn't dare explore too deeply.
That night, no matter how exhausted I was from work, sleep refused to come. I lay beside her, staring at her frail back turned toward me. Her skin was warm, damp with light perspiration, a sight that only deepened my guilt.
I remembered how she used to worry whenever I came home tired, how her voice alone could ease all my stress. But now…
Now she treated me like a stranger.
Her coldness left me disheartened and full of remorse. It truly hit me how badly I had hurt her. I felt like my days were numbered—like I was about to lose her cooking, her smile, her voice, everything that made our home feel alive.
I cursed myself silently. I felt lost, helpless, confused. I promised myself that if I could get through this, there would never be a next time. I would never even look at another woman outside my marriage again.
"W… h… y?"
Her voice broke through my thoughts. It was soft, muffled, trembling from suppressed sobs. My heart ached painfully. I had expected this question, yet I still wasn't ready for it.
For a moment, I couldn't speak. This wasn't something I could lie my way through, or even simply avoid. It was without a doubt that I was trying to run from this truth, I took a deep breath.
"It happened ten years ago," I said quietly.
"I was drunk."
Silence followed the room, after I said that.
There was no excuse—no alternative explanation I could hide behind. It was my fault. Mine alone. No one forced me. I wasn't protecting anyone by lying.
"How…" she stammered.
"How could you do this to me? Have I been a bad wife to you?"
Tears filled her eyes as her body trembled. I couldn't even tell if it was the cold or heartbreak causing it. My heart felt like it was collapsing inward.
I was terrified—terrified of saying the wrong thing, terrified of losing her, terrified she might leave with our children. It all felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
My mind raced. What could I say that wouldn't sound like a lie? What words wouldn't feel like I was trying to cover my betrayal?
The truth was simple and unforgiving. I made the mistake. I lied. I cheated. No explanation could change that.
Slowly, despite my exhaustion, I crawled out of bed and knelt beside her. I rested my hands near her ankle and lowered my head onto my palms.
"Darling," I said hoarsely, "you are an amazing mother and the most important woman in my life. I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know it's hard to believe me, and I know I don't deserve forgiveness. It happened after we quarrelled after our first son was taken away, and I got drunk. I am sorry I betrayed your trust."
"I know I may be beyond redemption, but I need you to know I'm deeply sorry. I still love you. There won't be a next time."
"I would do anything for you, for our children. You are my world—my only family. I would give up everything, even my life, if it meant protecting you."
My voice broke as I spoke. I didn't know if she was still awake. I didn't know if she would forgive me. But whatever punishment awaited me, I was ready to accept it.
From Elina's side, she lay silently on the bed, her heart fluttering in confusion.
The man kneeling beside her was the husband she had known for over two decades.
Yet one question refused to leave her mind—
If this was the man I knew… then why did he cheat on me?