Our texts read like a chatbot conversation: [Gotta make an arrest today. Won't be home. Lock the doors.] [Suspect got away. Still pursuing. Won't be home. Lock the doors.] [Making an arrest. Lock the doors.] 1 Finally, unable to bear the loneliness any longer, I hit up my best friend to go out and have some fun. I took the initiative to text him: [Are you making arrests today too?] Server's #1 Assassin: [Yes] Awesome. If he's catching bad guys, he can't catch me cheating. The next second, while I was happily watching a male dancer grind his hips, the door burst open: "Vice squad! Hands where I can see them!" My vision went black. Turns out, the person he was arresting today was me... 1 Day 32 of being newlyweds. My best friend sent me ten thirst-trap videos. I stared at the rows of abs on my phone, swallowing hard. "How do these bodies compare to your Officer Cole?" I stared at the ceiling in a standoff: "I've never seen him without his clothes on..." She was shocked: "No way? If you don't jump his bones soon, his gun's gonna rust." I wanted to! After all, I was pretty thirsty for him too. Cole Anderson and I met through a blind date setup. The first time I saw him, I shamefully fell hard. A broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, long-legged physique wrapped in a police uniform, plus a face that screamed "alpha male." He was handsome, wild, and basically walking testosterone. "Miss Miller, I hope you don't mind that police work is demanding?" "Not at all, not at all!" I swallowed hard and shook my head frantically back then. So what if he's busy? I love a man with ambition. It was only later I realized that when he got busy, I'd turn into a stone statue waiting for her husband's return. On our first day as newlyweds, before our lips could even touch, he got a call and shot out of bed: "Emergency. Gotta go make an arrest." I waited up for him all night, going crazy. The next day, my period arrived before he did. Cole was either making an arrest or on his way to make one every day. Usually, by the time I went to sleep, he'd get back. By the time I woke up, he was gone. I get grumpy when I wake up, so to avoid disturbing me, he'd sleep in the guest room when he got home. One month into our marriage, we were like long-distance internet friends who barely knew each other. But the speed at which he replied to messages was like waiting for reincarnation. Our chats were like talking to a bot. (Monday) Barely Alive: [Coming home today?] Server's #1 Assassin: [Gotta make an arrest tonight. Won't be home. Lock the doors.] Barely Alive: [Amazon Locker: Pickup code 5210] Server's #1 Assassin: [I'll grab it on my way back.] (Tuesday) Barely Alive: [Did you catch the guy?] Server's #1 Assassin: [He ran. Still pursuing. Won't be home. Lock the doors.] Barely Alive: [Amazon Locker: Pickup code 5456] Server's #1 Assassin: [1] (Got it) (Wednesday) Barely Alive: [Coming back?] Server's #1 Assassin: [Making an arrest. Lock the doors.] Barely Alive: [Amazon Locker: Pickup code 5678] Server's #1 Assassin: [1] Server's #1 Assassin transferred $10,000 to you. Memo: Paycheck (Thursday) Barely Alive: [?] Server's #1 Assassin: [1] Barely Alive: [Amazon Locker: Pickup code 6785] Server's #1 Assassin: [1] I really... Even Batman couldn't make this many arrests. I felt like I had married a heartless package-retrieval machine. 2 I pressed the two pimples popping up on my chin, feeling hot and bothered all over. My best friend forwarded me an article: [How Terrifying is a Woman Who Hasn't Had Sex in a Long Time?] Reminding me: [If you don't break your fast soon, this fresh flower is gonna turn into dried weeds.] Attached was a video showcasing a talent: opening a bottle cap with abs. "I called over those streamers you like the most." "Get over here now! My treat!" With the words "my treat," what little wifely virtue I had instantly vanished. "Fuck it!" I ripped off my pajamas and threw them on the bed. Time for the miniskirt and crop top: "Mama's gonna be an outlaw tonight!" Just in case, I sent Cole a message: [Are you making arrests today too?] This time, he replied pretty fast: [Yes] Awesome. If he's catching bad guys, he won't have time to catch me cheating. [Okay, I'm going to sleep then~] Today was my best friend's birthday party. She was gorgeous and well-connected, and she had invited a bunch of male models and influencers. As soon as I walked in, my eyes were met with a sea of half-dressed pretty boys. "Hi, you're so pretty." "Do you have a boyfriend?" "I can dance for you." "Wanna touch my abs?" When the Nth boy with abs came over to hit on me, I finally understood the joy of being a hedonistic king. "Wanna feel?" A silver-haired bad boy lifted the hem of his shirt, his eight-pack glistening under the lights. "Just worked on my V-lines..." I swallowed hard and shrank back, but my fingers moved forward uncontrollably. Damn it, us strong independent women need to enjoy days like this after a tiring day. The abs peeking through the unbuttoned shirt made me dizzy: "Why are your hands shaking a bit?" No kidding. The hands my husband uses to arrest people are currently gripping a gun. And here I am, touching another man's waist. Just as my heart was blooming with joy from being sweet-talked... The VIP room door was kicked open with a bang. "Vice squad! Hands on your heads, get down!" 3 That voice was so familiar it made my scalp tingle. I looked up and saw Cole standing in the doorway, his police uniform buttoned to the top, his belt cinching his lean waist. When his gaze swept over my little crop top and miniskirt, his Adam's apple bobbed hard. Our eyes met, and my hand subconsciously shrank behind my back: "Honey, listen... let me explain..." "They ordered them all, I didn't order any..." "I didn't even dare touch them, I didn't even dare look..." The rookie cop beside him couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Captain Anderson, here's the surveillance footage..." The rookie handed over a tablet. I watched helplessly at the stupid look on my face on the screen, frantically swallowing as I stared at those abs. I felt so hopeless I wanted to reincarnate on the spot. What was even more suffocating was... Cole actually pressed pause. He zoomed in on my paw that was about to touch the male model's abs. "Miss Miller." He tapped his knuckles on the screen, his wedding ring making a crisp clinking sound. "Care to explain this action?" My legs went weak, and I almost slid to my knees: "Honey, listen to me! This is art appreciation..." Cole gritted his teeth: "Take her away." His long legs, wrapped in police trousers, strode with murderous intent. I remembered during our blind date, staring at his police uniform, my mind filled with dirty thoughts about handcuffs and forced love. Now karma had come; he really did use handcuffs to force me. Congratulations to me on getting a pair of silver bracelets. Boohoo. 4 Inside the interrogation room. Cole stared at my little crop top. With a dark face, he took off his police jacket and wrapped it around me. I shrank into the chair, silently pretending to be a quail. "Name?" "Your wife..." The pen slammed onto the table with a "thud." Cole loosened his collar and raised his voice: "Take this seriously." I stared at his bobbing Adam's apple and whispered: "Maya Miller." He kept a straight face: "Motive?" "Left alone in an empty room for thirty-two days." I started counting on my fingers to complain. "Fell in love with a man who never comes home..." The rookie cop taking notes in the corner let out a snort of laughter. Cole shot him a glare like a throwing knife. "Detail everything. What exactly did you do during the entire process?" "I didn't do anything, just drank a glass of juice..." He tapped the table, warning me: "Providing false statements carries legal consequences." "Well, maybe there was some dancing..." "How were they dancing? What happened?" "Just, maybe, I accidentally brushed against his abs..." "How many times did you brush against them?" "What does this have to do with the case?" I couldn't help but ask. His face tightened, his tone serious: "Every single detail must be accounted for." I braced myself and spoke: "Twice? Three times?" Cole's face instantly turned a shade of green, his voice terrifyingly dark: "How many times exactly?" I looked down guiltily: "I was wrong, honey..." A few cops were peeking through the window at the door, eating up the drama: "Ahem, Captain Anderson, per regulations, we need to clarify the contact area with the suspect—were the abs specifically the upper, middle, or lower abs?" Cole's gaze shot poison darts: "Are you guys really that free?" "Well, you taught us this!" A few of them started making a ruckus while slipping away. "Last week during the vice raid, you even said evidence collection must be specific to..." "That was for prostitution!" "But sister-in-law just said she touched the V-lines." The rookie taking notes tried hard to suppress his laughter, pulling out his phone. "Captain Anderson, look, the criminal investigation group chat is discussing how you broke the record for response time tonight. Everyone is asking if you used a 100-meter sprint dash..." Cole grabbed the guy by the back of the neck and tossed him out the door. The rookie peeked his head through the crack in the door: "Um, if sister-in-law needs some art appreciation of abs, our squad..." "Don't want to get off work?" The rookie chuckled apologetically: "Yes, yes, yes! You two continue with the law enforcement." "Oh right, Captain Anderson, remember to sign the family member section so you can take sister-in-law home." Cole signed his name with a dark expression. Then he raised his hand and tightened the police jacket draped over my shoulders. 5 On the way back, he drove in silence. I was both well-behaved and cowardly: "Cole, are you... angry?" He was expressionless: "No." Saying one thing and meaning another. I stole a quick glance. The man's jawline was tight, his narrow, deep-set eyes lowered, his thin lips slightly pursed. His long fingers gripped the steering wheel, the cuffs of his blue uniform shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms with prominent veins. Simply amazing, even when he's angry he's so handsome. I was just thinking about how to coax him. My phone suddenly vibrated. I answered, and my best friend's loud voice blasted from the receiver: "Maya Miller, your husband arrested all eight models I called over! You got to feel them up, but I'm still burning up over here!" "But I gotta say, his squad is full of long legs. Seeing them in those police uniforms got me all hot and bothered. Officer Cole's waist is definitely better than any male model's!" What kind of wild talk is this... I panicked and hurriedly hung up. But I accidentally hit the speakerphone button: "I heard Officer Cole went home with you. Doesn't that mean you guys are gonna go at it hard tonight?" "Having gone without for so many days, his pants must be on fire, right?" Cole turned his head to look at me, his expression unreadable. My hand trembled, and my phone accidentally dropped under the seat. "You said he never comes home every day, could it be his hardware isn't up to par?" "I sent you a macho man evaluation chart! You have to send me a battle report..." "I'll buy you a victory battle outfit too, you definitely have to handcuff him to the bedpost..." Cole reached down, picked up the phone, and calmly spoke: "Miss Smith, regarding the $20,000 VIP membership you bought at the Nightfall Club, do you need us to come to your door for some legal education?" Violent coughing came from the other end of the line: "Heh, um... Captain Anderson, we were just doing some art appreciation..." The call disconnected. The car was dead silent. Passing a convenience store, he stopped the car with a cold face. He came back shortly after getting out. He had two small boxes in his hands. "What did you buy..." I asked curiously. He didn't speak, just shoved them into my hands with a cold face. I looked down. The box clearly displayed "0.01". Oh my, and it's extra large.
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