Just a Housewife: The CEO's Biggest Mistake

"Honey, you must be exhausted today. Have some milk and get to bed early."

I had just walked out of the bathroom after my shower when my husband Michael Sinclair handed me a glass of warm milk.

Taking the warm cup, I felt content.

After three years of marriage, Michael was always accommodating and thoughtful. Everyone envied me for finding such a good husband.

Except for not having children, this marriage was almost perfect.

But last week we decided to adopt his older brother's son George Sinclair, so this regret should soon be filled.

I smiled at him. "Okay, I'll go to bed soon. You go give George a bath first."

"Oh, and George just came to our house, so he might not be used to it yet. Go ask if he needs anything."

"Sure, you're always so thoughtful."

Michael kissed my forehead before leaving the room.

I picked up the milk to drink, but my phone suddenly rang. It was the doctor who had examined me this afternoon.

Calling so late—did something happen?

I put down the cup and answered with confusion. "Dr. Jenkins, what's wrong?"

"Ms. Guise, I was just talking to a friend about your condition, and he said your symptoms seem like drug dependency. Have you been taking antidepressants in excessive amounts?"

Hearing this, I froze.

Starting around the beginning of this year, I'd been having unexplained heart palpitations, dizziness, and blackouts. I'd seen many doctors but nothing showed up in the tests.

Since I was very busy with work, I thought it might be anxiety and was planning to see a therapist.

But drug dependency? I don't even take supplements!

"You must be mistaken. I've never taken antidepressants."

I frowned and stood up, accidentally knocking over the milk on the table.

Milk spilled everywhere. I quickly grabbed tissues to clean it up.

"Maybe I got it wrong then..."

Dr. Jenkins also seemed uncertain. "But I can introduce you to my therapist friend. You can see him when you have time."

I thanked him, hung up, cleaned the floor, and was about to take the cup back to the kitchen.

But when I reached the living room, I heard rustling sounds coming from Amanda Reynolds' room.

"...Don't move around. What if she wakes up?"

"She won't wake up. Don't worry, she already drank the milk..."

My body suddenly went stiff. I looked toward Amanda's tightly closed door.

This late at night, Michael was still in Amanda's room with the door closed?

I clenched my fists without thinking.

Michael's older brother Gavin Sinclair died in an accident last year, leaving behind his wife Amanda Reynolds, who was about a month pregnant at the time.

I knew the brothers were close, so he took good care of Amanda. When she was about to give birth, he even had her stay at our house for a long time.

We decided to adopt George because he was a Sinclair family child anyway, and Amanda was young—having a child would make it harder for her to remarry.

Michael wasn't too willing at first, saying it would cause gossip to have Amanda living at home. He usually didn't chat much with Amanda either.

Thinking back to his strange words, I felt a chill down my back.

He brought me a glass of milk every day. I did notice I fell asleep quickly after drinking it, but still felt tired when I woke up.

Could there be something in the milk?

I couldn't believe my husband might want to harm me, but now I had to suspect it!

Gripping the cup, I strode forward to check.

But then the door opened from inside.

Michael walked out, his clothes a bit messy.

Seeing me, he seemed stunned. "Honey... you're not asleep yet?"

I looked at him, my fingertips slowly digging into my palm. "Why were you in Amanda's room for so long?"

Michael choked, his expression looking unnatural.

My suspicion deepened. Just as I was about to lose it, Amanda came out too.

"Claire, you're still up?"

She smiled at me and quietly closed the door. "Michael just came to learn how to put a child to sleep. I even asked him why he didn't bring you along."

"He said you go to bed early, and he'll definitely be the one putting the child to sleep in the future. Ah, if Gavin were here, I wonder if he'd be that thoughtful."

I paused, watching Michael scratch his head looking a bit embarrassed. "We're planning to adopt George, right? I need to learn how to take care of a kid."

"You work hard, so let me take care of the family."

Hearing those warm words, I immediately felt guilty about my messy thoughts.

Michael was so good to me—how could he possibly be having an affair with Amanda?

His income wasn't as high as mine, but his work wasn't easy either. And he was thinking about learning to care for a child to lighten my burden, yet I suspected him.

"We'll take care of the child together in the future. How can I let only you work hard?"

I stepped forward and hugged him lightly. "Get some rest early. I'll go to bed first."

He touched my head, his eyes gentle. "Okay, go ahead."

Only then did I return to the bedroom, but I had trouble falling asleep after lying down.

How strange—normally I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, though I easily slept for a long time without waking up, and felt even more tired after waking.

Thinking about it... it seemed when I was away on business trips, I didn't fall asleep so quickly either.

Could there really be a problem?

I tossed and turned in bed when the door suddenly opened.

Michael walked in and called out tentatively, "Honey, are you asleep?"

I was about to respond, but thinking of those strange things, I didn't answer and instead closed my eyes.

He came over and patted my shoulder lightly.

I still didn't react.

Only then did Michael tiptoe to the bedside, pull open the bottom drawer, then walk out.

The bedroom door closed. I soon heard the outside door—it sounded like someone going out.

Going out this late! What was he doing?

I quickly pulled open that drawer. It was empty.

What did Michael take?

I felt even more uneasy. I got up to grab my phone to call him, opened the dial pad, but suddenly stopped.

He'd gone out late at night before, usually saying he had to work overtime. I never doubted him.

If he really was having an affair, would calling him now tip him off?

After a moment's hesitation, I lightened my steps and quietly pushed open the door.

The living room was pitch black. Amanda's door was closed too. The room was especially quiet.

I glanced at the shoe rack and suddenly felt frozen all over.

Both of their shoes were missing a pair—they went out together!

I felt blood rush to my head. I rushed over and pulled open the door, only to find even George was gone!

Where did they go? Was Michael really having an affair with Amanda and deliberately drugging my milk?

I rushed to the trash can and picked up the tissues used to wipe the milk, my fingers trembling.