Stranger in the Livestream

The glow from the phone screen lit up my face, sharp and piercing. My fingers moved unconsciously through local feeds when a livestream preview popped up. 'The Little Bunny Plans to Woo the Big Bad Wolf CEO'—that title made me sneer. The moment I clicked in, my breath caught abruptly. The preview showed only a pair of hands kneading dough. Those hands were bony at the knuckles, with a faint scar on the webbing between thumb and index finger—a cut from chopping vegetables last year. These were Finn Lynn's hands. The livestream was scheduled for seven o'clock in the evening, titled, 'Big Bad Wolf Personally Makes a Chestnut Cake, a Surprise for the Little Bunny.' My fingertips went ice cold; I could barely hold my phone. Today is our third wedding anniversary. When he left this morning, he smiled and said he had a big surprise planned for tonight. Chestnut cake is my favorite. With trembling hands, I dialed his number; the familiar busy signal echoed in the receiver. He picked up on the fifth ring. "Hello, Melody?" His voice was as gentle as ever, with faint sounds of clinking cutlery in the background. "Where are you?" My voice was dry and rough, like sandpaper scraping. "Working late at the restaurant," he said casually. "A big client showed up last minute, so I probably won't be home until very late tonight." Anniversary... Sorry, can I make it up to you tomorrow? "Working late?" I stared at the close-up of his hands arranging chestnuts on the screen. "Which client needs you to personally bake a cake?" There was a two-second silence on the other end of the line. "What do you mean by that?" His tone grew cold. "Melody Xavier, stop making a fuss." There's always plenty to handle at the restaurant. "I'm making a fuss?" My heart felt clenched by an invisible grip, the pain nearly stealing my breath. "Finn Lynn, look at your own hands." He clearly hesitated for a moment, then I heard heavier breathing. "I don't know what you're talking about.""Nothing else—I have to hang up now; the client is still waiting," his voice was stiff. "Wait!" I called after him urgently, eyes flicking down to the comment section where someone asked why the host wasn't wearing a ring. "Where is your wedding ring?" My voice shook uncontrollably. The call was cut off abruptly. The busy signal stabbed sharply into my ears like an ice pick, chilling me from head to toe.