His camera was pitch black. His voice came through muffled, thick with feigned drowsiness. "Babe, what's wrong? I just fell asleep."

I knew he was faking it.

Even the nasal tone in his voice was a perfect imitation of someone half-asleep. Rehearsed.

Max and I had been married for three years. I'd landed a government position in another city, so we had no choice but to live apart. On the days we couldn't see each other, video calls were all we had.

But every few days, he'd tell me he was too tired from work, that he hadn't slept well, and hang up early.

Sometimes when I called without warning, he'd trot out the same excuse.

In that moment, everything clicked into place.

An apple doesn't rot overnight.

He'd been lying. And once a man starts lying, he never stops.

"Where are you?"

My voice was flat. Expressionless.

Max sounded confused. "In bed, obviously. Babe, what's going on with you?"

"Then why won't you turn on your camera?"

He paused for two seconds.

"Power's out at the apartment. Can't turn it on."

I let out a cold, sharp laugh. I was done holding back.

I kicked the hotel room door wide open.

"Is lying to me fun for you, Max?"

He lifted his head, frozen in place, eyes flashing with shock and panic.

"B-Babe!"

"You told me you left this morning. Why are you still here?"

His phone slipped from his hand again and clattered against the floor.

Max scrambled to pull his clothes on. Even in his panic, he didn't forget to yank the comforter over the girl beside him, tossing her camisole at her.

"Get dressed and get out."

The girl wrinkled her nose, looking more annoyed than ashamed. "I was wondering who'd show up. Turns out it's the frumpy little wife."

She dressed with lazy, deliberate slowness, glancing my way every few seconds with a look designed to provoke.

"So what if you caught us? What are you going to do about it?"

"Once a man's heart isn't in it anymore, he'll just sneak around behind your back anyway."

"Shut your mouth!" Max snapped, his expression turning cold in an instant.

"That bag I promised you? Forget it."

"And don't bother coming around again."

The girl's smugness crumbled. Her face went white. She let out a bitter scoff and deliberately shouldered past me on her way out.

After she was gone, the room held only the two of us.

Max stood there, shirtless, and slowly moved toward me. A small sigh escaped through his nose.

"Babe, don't be mad."

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"That girl just now, I met her at a bar not long ago. She wouldn't leave me alone, so I brought her here to teach her a lesson."

I stared at him, genuinely stunned. Part of me wanted to applaud the sheer audacity.

I couldn't fathom how his mouth could open and close and produce words that shameless.

He buried his face against my waist the way he always did, nuzzling into me like a spoiled child.

As if this were nothing more than one of our little spats.

"Max."

"You just finished sleeping with me, and the second I walked out the door, you brought another girl back to this hotel."

The stale, musky smell hanging in the air hit me all at once.

Nausea surged through my stomach. I shoved him off me, hard.

"Didn't you tell me you'd gone back home to take care of things? Back to the countryside?"

"Max, we've known each other for ten years. Married for three. And you can't even be bothered to come up with a halfway decent lie anymore?"

Never in a million years did I think that forgetting my portable charger and coming back for it would lead to this.

And Max's attitude made it so much worse.

"It's just an affair. That's all it is."

"I don't have any feelings for her. It was purely physical. A little excitement."

"Everyone in my circle does it. It doesn't mean anything."

"If it bothers you, I'll cut her off right now."

Max's words had been so devout.

He'd even smiled, knelt before me, and said, "Compared to anyone else, you'll always come first."

But now, he just made me sick.

My stomach churned violently, and I ran to the bathroom, retching over and over.

Max leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me.

"Seriously?"

"It was just sleeping with another woman. You're acting like you're some kind of saint." His lip curled. "Back then, weren't you the one pinned under some other guy, almost—"

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the color drain from my face.

Panic flickered across his expression.

"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to bring that up."

He knew. He knew exactly what had happened. Walking home from a late shift, I'd been cornered by a group of drunk men. If he hadn't shown up when he did and chased them off, I would have—

I couldn't finish the thought. Even now.

For years, every mention of that night dragged me back into a shadow I couldn't escape. It had taken me so long just to tolerate a man's touch without flinching.

Every time it came up, Max had been careful. Gentle. He'd tiptoe around the subject like it was made of glass, never pressing, never pushing.

And now he'd thrown it in my face like a weapon.

In that moment, I understood. There was no going back. Not anymore.

I ran out of the hotel. Behind me, Max's phone rang, and whatever the call was, it stopped him from following.

Tears blurred my vision. I was about to hail a cab when my phone buzzed.

Brenda Drake. My coworker.

Her voice came through tight and urgent.

"Madeline, do you remember that pre-sale apartment you bought three years ago? The one your husband said was never finished?"

A cold feeling settled in my chest. "What about it?"

"I just found out the building was completed and delivered three years ago. It was never stalled. Not even close."

My heart seized like a fist had closed around it.

"What did you just say?"

That apartment. I'd bought it before the wedding. Three years ago, Max told me the developer had gone under and the project was dead in the water. He said he'd filed lawsuits, multiple rounds of them, but the developer refused to cooperate.

I'd wanted to dig up evidence myself, push the case further. Max had stopped me.

"Let me handle it," he'd said, his voice soft with what I thought was love. "Why should my wife have to worry about something like this?"

"I just feel bad, Madeline. All these years of long distance, and you can't even live in the home you bought for us."

The guilt in his eyes had been so convincing. I'd told myself that as long as we were in it together, no storm was too big to weather.

Now I understood. He was the storm.

I'd saved for five years before the marriage. Every penny. My parents had quietly slipped me money too, part of my nest egg for the future. All of it had gone into that apartment.

It was everything I'd hoped for. The home where I thought we'd build a quiet, steady life together.

Brenda's voice cut through the fog. "Madeline? Madeline, are you okay? I'm sending you the filing records and the delivery confirmation right now. Don't panic. That apartment is your pre-marital property. He has no legal claim to it."

I hung up. The messages came through instantly.

Clear screenshots of the official filing. A delivery stamp in bold red ink. Even the property management's move-in registration records. And there, in the column marked Owner, a name I didn't recognize.

Abigail Pruitt.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Abigail Pruitt. Max's childhood sweetheart. The one he said had moved abroad three years ago.

She'd been living in my home this entire time.

An empty cab pulled up to the curb. I yanked the door open.

"Lakeview Manor. Now."

The home he'd told me was stalled in construction for three years.

He said it had never been livable.

We were in a long-distance relationship, and the distance was too far for me to visit. I'd never once gone to see it for myself.

But when I finally did, I found it fully renovated, beautifully furnished.

Another woman had already moved in and made herself at home.

I used the spare key Max had given me and opened the front door.

The neighbor next door was already sizing me up with a look of open contempt.

"Young girl like you, and this is what you do with your life? Homewrecking? Now you've got the nerve to show up at their front door."

Before I could respond, the elevator doors slid open, and Abigail walked out in a miniskirt.

The neighbor immediately rushed over to her.

"Abigail, sweetie, watch out. The other woman just showed up at your door."

"Look at her. She even knows where your spare key is..."

I froze.

Max and I had registered our marriage three years ago. We just hadn't held a ceremony yet.

And somehow I was the other woman?

Abigail's smile stiffened on her face when she heard this. She looked me up and down with curiosity.

"Excuse me, miss, are you sure you have the right place? This is my home. Mine and Max's."

"Max?"

I repeated the name, my throat so dry it ached. "Max Matthews?"

"That's right."

Abigail nodded, smugness practically dripping from her eyes.

"We've been together for three years. Moved in three years ago. Max said he'd throw me a grand wedding soon, once things settle down."

She paused, pressing a hand to her mouth in mock surprise.

"Oh, you don't... have the wrong idea, do you? Max never told me he had another girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?"

I laughed. Laughed until tears nearly spilled.

"Abigail, did you know that Max and I have been legally married for three years?"

The words landed like a bomb, detonating in the crowd of onlookers.

Every face in the hallway changed.

The woman who'd just been pointing fingers at me stood there with her mouth open, unable to form a single word.

A crack finally appeared in Abigail's composure, but she recovered quickly. She even pushed past me, walked to the shoe cabinet, and picked up a framed photo, holding it up for everyone to see.

In the frame, she and Max stood together. The background was this very living room. They were wrapped in each other's arms, smiling like they didn't have a care in the world.

"Look. This is our home."

"This place was the home he prepared for us. Every detail of the renovation, we picked out together."

I drew a deep breath and forced down the storm raging inside me.

My gaze drifted past Abigail and landed on the living room behind her.

On the couch lay a gray jacket Max always wore.

On the dining table sat two bowls. One pair of chopsticks was the wooden kind Max preferred. The other pair was pink.

The whole place was warm, cozy, thoughtfully arranged. It really did look like a home.

My fists clenched so tight my knuckles went white. I could feel the blood draining from my face.

"Did Max ever mention that I helped pay the down payment on this place?"

Right then, my phone rang.

It was Max.

I glanced at Abigail. There was a flicker of challenge in her eyes, a trace of triumph.

I hit speakerphone.

Max's voice came through, tinged with urgency.

"Madeline, where are you? I've been calling you over and over. You didn't pick up. I'm sorry about what happened at the hotel. That was my fault. Please don't be mad, okay?"

I looked straight at Abigail. A cold smile curved the corner of my lips.

"Max," I said into the phone. "I'm at Lakeview Manor."