Chapter 2

It was a mirror selfie.

Mia in black lace, fluffy cat ears perched on her head, eyes wide with mock innocence—but in her hand, a slender leather whip.

The caption read:

"Just bought this. Do you like it? Ugh, why did my period have to start today... I really wanted to try it out right now."

"Are you still with her? I can't sleep waiting for you."

I took several deep breaths before my hands stopped shaking. Then I opened their chat.

I scrolled up.

The conversation shifted from tentative flirtation a few months back to something explicit and raw.

Mia: "Got the condoms~ Your favorite ultra-thins ;) You said it wasn't exciting enough last time, so I prepared something extra. Are you sure she never suspects anything?"

Grant: "Don't think about that. When I'm with you, I don't want to talk about her."

Mia: "Fine. But... tonight I want you to stay longer. You left too fast last time."

...

I scrolled further, my jaw tight.

Shopping receipts. Hotel booking screenshots. Photos even more explicit—her eyes and poses nothing like the demure secretary who bowed her head and called me "Mrs. Weston."

I kept scrolling mechanically, searching for the beginning.

Over a year ago.

That year, Noah had just started preschool. I ran myself ragged every single day. Grant always said the company was at a critical juncture, that the pressure was enormous. He came home late, collapsed into bed, and fell asleep instantly. I felt sorry for him. I tried to understand. I didn't dare ask too many questions. I even blamed myself for not being supportive enough.

That year, my husband started his affair.

Mia: "Grant, I keep thinking about that night... in Chicago. I really never expected anything like that to happen. I just heard you were on a business trip alone and had a fever, so I got worried and brought medicine to your room. I didn't think we'd..."

Mia: "I've always respected you, and I know you have a family. The more I think about it, the guiltier I feel. I feel like such a terrible person... Did I ruin something?"

A few hours later, Grant replied.

Grant: "I'm the one who should apologize. You're so young—you shouldn't be dragged into something this complicated. But I have to admit, after that night, everything feels different."

I closed my eyes. This wasn't the time to fall apart.

Evidence. I needed evidence.

Numbly, I screenshotted every message in their chat.

A man who'd been cheating for over a year—his depravity wouldn't stop there.

I opened his other messaging app and found Leo—his old friend and business partner.

Their chat was full of the crude banter men traded behind closed doors.

I scrolled to an exchange from three months ago:

Grant: "I'm so fucking bored lately."

Leo: "The wife not putting out again?"

Grant: "Might as well be screwing a log. Nothing compared to Mia."

...

I bolted up and rushed to the bathroom, retching, but nothing came.

Back in the living room, I steadied myself and saved that conversation too.

Finally, my eyes landed on that photo again.

Her period.

So that's why he came home tonight. That's why he called out her name.

The balcony door clicked.

I snapped the laptop shut. The screen went dark, hiding every emotion on my face.

Grant didn't spare me a glance. He walked straight to the guest room and closed the door.

I sat alone on the couch. In the darkness, I finally let the tears fall.

Not because Grant had betrayed me.

I was crying for the ten years I'd wasted on the wrong man.

Ten whole years.

Grant.

I didn't need to ask him why anymore.

Because I'd only just discovered who he really was.

It was over.