When I started Suspecting my Wife of Cheating, I Somehow Ended up Living in the Middle of Nowhere - Episode 22

The renovation of the second floor was relatively simple. I had thought the biggest enemy would be the smell — the lingering odor from an old fire.

However, thanks to my older daughter’s hard work, the soot smell had been significantly reduced. Maybe it wasn’t completely gone, but at least to me, it was barely noticeable anymore.

Once that was handled, the work was almost the same as the first floor. We filled the gaps between the pillars and walls with caulking, and then attached small studs to the walls. We installed insulation on top of that. On the first floor, we had used glass wool, but on the second floor, I decided to try spray foam insulation. Why? Simply because I wanted to try it.

Glass wool — but before that, do you know what has the highest insulation effect? Surprisingly, it’s “air.” Water conducts heat easily, but air is harder to heat up and cool down.

Thermos bottles, for example, have a vacuum or air space between the inner and outer walls. This way, the heat or cold doesn’t easily transfer.

Glass wool is made of fine glass fibers — basically, “cotton” made of glass. It traps a lot of air, preventing outside heat or cold from entering the house.

Spray foam insulation works similarly. It’s basically “foam.” When sprayed, it expands and hardens, forming something like styrofoam, trapping a lot of air inside, and thus insulating the house.

Which one has better insulation — glass wool or spray foam? I guess we’ll only know by trying. My guess is that spray foam will perform better because it fills every gap perfectly.

(Ding-dong)

About a week after the second-floor renovation was finished, someone came to our house. It was the first time since moving to this village.

“Coming! Who is it?”

I headed toward the entrance. I had told the girls helping me with the work to take a break and prepare some tea.

Clattering, I opened the front door and found the village chief and his wife standing there.

“Oh, hello there. Uh… is there some kind of problem?”

Maybe noise complaints from neighbors? Improper trash disposal? I started to panic a bit.

“No, no. We were just worried. Since this house had a fire before, we thought your daughters might be struggling. We came to check if you were doing okay. If it’s inconvenient, we can arrange a new house for you.”

The village chief’s wife smiled kindly. They were the ones who had helped me find work and had always looked out for us. Good people.

“Thank you very much, but we’ll decline the offer for a new house.”

“Why is that?” the village chief asked with concern.

“Uh…”

As I tried to think of how to explain, the village chief’s wife pressed further.

“Why? Are you planning to leave the village?!”

“No, no, we’re not leaving… Huh? Is that what this is about?!”

Just then, the girls came rushing to the entrance.

“Please wait!”

“Please come inside and see the house first!”

Both my older daughter and Chieri were unusually serious at the entrance.

“It’s not like that…” the village chief’s wife began, but the girls insisted, half-pulling them inside.

“Oh…!”

The village chief and his wife were speechless for a while after seeing the renovated first floor.

“I didn’t think there was a contractor in this village capable of such work… Was it someone you know?”

“No, my father did the renovation himself. We just helped,” my older daughter answered.

“But some of the work must require specialized skills… What about the electrical work?”

“My father has an electrician’s license. We did the physical work under his supervision.”

Electrical work requires at least a Class 2 Electrician’s license. Helpers are allowed under the supervision of a licensed professional, who also carries the responsibility.

My daughters were quite skilled, probably better at the actual work than I was. They had enough knowledge to pass the licensing exams themselves — it was just a matter of timing.

“And the wall paneling…?”

“The three of us did it together.”

“And the flooring too…?”

“We worked together.”

The village chief’s wife and Chieri exchanged questions and answers.

“The second floor doesn’t even smell like smoke anymore. My sister removed the smell. We’re planning to work on the exterior next,” I added, even though no one had asked.

The village chief and his wife politely asked to see the second floor as well.

“This house… it’s yours now. We want you to stay here. If possible… for the rest of your lives.”

“““…Huh!?”””

We were all taken aback, our tension suddenly deflating.

We had feared they might have complaints and were about to kick us out of the village.

“Next week, there’s a joint school festival for the junior high and high schools. Please come see our grandchildren’s performance.”

“Uh… okay.”

Before answering, I glanced at my daughters. Both silently nodded. I gave my reply.
Oh right… I hadn’t completed the girls’ school transfer procedures yet.
There weren’t any other schools nearby, so we would have to arrange for them to attend that one.

Thinking that, I realized I wanted to go to the festival myself, not just for the girls, but for me too.

□□□ Kiyomi Zenpuku’s Lament

I had meant to spite him, but in the end, I handed custody of the girls over to him.
I couldn’t bind him with my selfishness. After all, it was my selfishness that had made me leave and led to all this.
I realized I couldn’t help the girls spread their wings like he could… or rather, maybe he couldn’t either — maybe only that person could.

I’m sorry for looking down on you for being a junior high graduate.
I graduated high school, but compared to you, I feel like a fool. It’s not even funny.

I want to hear your voice.
I want to see you.
I want to live with you.

I didn’t even realize these feelings were hidden inside me… until now.

I remembered how when I said I couldn’t reach the top of the fridge, you quickly made me a step stool just the right height.
You were always so kind.
Maybe our daughter’s skilled hands were inherited from you.
You didn’t say much, but you taught them by showing them through your actions.
Maybe that’s why they chose to go with you.

Realizing it now… after everything’s already happened.

After it’s too late.

I can’t believe this is really my life.
In movies and dramas, the characters often wish they could turn back time after they make a mistake.
I used to laugh at that. You can’t turn back time.

But now… I desperately wish I could.

Even though I know it’s impossible.

Why won’t he come back?
What am I supposed to do?
I have money. I have time.
I shouldn’t want for anything…

And yet, here I am.