He draped an arm around my shoulder and said nonchalantly, “Everyone makes mistakes. That’s all in the past. Now, I only love Florence and I just want to build a life with her."

“Don’t say things to upset my wife, or I swear you’ll face the consequences.”

Sydney rarely displayed affection publicly, so his words left me feeling both hopeful and uncertain.

The room fell silent momentarily before laughter erupted. They envied me—a woman with a husband who loved her, a man with both romance and success.

Everyone joined in the mood, except Kya. Her eyes turned red and tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

Someone among the crowd sneered, “Look at that, Kya. If you hadn’t been so blind and greedy, you could’ve married Sydney by now and become the wealthiest woman in the city. And not living this pathetic life.”

“That’s right. I heard she’s divorced. What’s she even doing here?”

“Is she looking for a man willing to take her in?”

“I saw her with a kid earlier.”

Hearing this, Sydney's grip on my arm suddenly tightened, causing sharp pain. Yet, he didn’t seem to realize. His gaze was locked on Kya, seemingly waiting for her to deny it all.

But she didn’t. Kya simply lowered her head further.

Sydney averted his gaze in frustration, lighting a cigarette. He cared for her—far more than he wanted to admit.

“She really thinks she can find a man who’d want someone like her?” Rod Beauford, notorious for his troublemaking ways since high school, sneered loudly. “I wonder what it would feel like to have the once-proud Miss Tucker under me.”

His tone grew even more brazen and a sleazy grin spread across his face. “How about we make a deal? You sleep with me tonight and I’ll throw five thousand dollars your way. Sounds good, right?”

Rod’s words were shameless and crude. Sydney’s expression darkened, his piercing gaze icy as it bore into the man.

At that moment, Kya lifted her head, her tear-streaked face flushed. “Who do you think you are to trample on my dignity? If it weren’t for my father, your family would’ve gone bankrupt long ago!”

She added resolutely, “I’m not those women who stood roadside selling themselves. I’ll only sleep with the man I love.”

Her eyes lingered on Sydney without concealment. Then, she declared boldly, “Apart from him, no one else will touch me.”

She ignored me entirely, brazenly seducing my husband right before my eyes.

Rod’s face turned red with anger. He abruptly stood up from the couch, moved to Kya’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Despite her struggles, he planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Think you still the precious powerful daughter, huh? That’s bold. Why don’t we see if you still have the power to keep me from fucking you?”

With that, Rod grabbed Kya by the waist, hoisted her over his shoulder and headed for the door. Kya struggled, casting pleading looks toward Sydney.

Sydney was tense, his entire body rigid. His fists trembled as he clenched them tightly.

Just as he stood up, I grabbed his hand, my voice laced with desperation. “You’re my husband. Whatever happened to Kya is none of your business. Please, stay and don’t humiliate me.”

Sydney, who had never spoken harshly to me, fixed his gaze on the door where Kya had disappeared. His expression was unreadable. He shoved my hand away with such force that I fell heavily onto the couch.

Under the mocking gazes of the crowd, he glanced at me and said coldly, “How can you be so heartless?”

Then, without another word, he strode out, as if terrified that any delay might lead to irreversible consequences.

Clenching my hands into fists, I silently swallowed the tears that threatened to spill, forcing a smile. “I’m not feeling well. You all go ahead and enjoy the party. I’ll head home."

Behind me, laughter and ridicule erupted, but I didn’t turn back.

That night, I waited for him in the living room, all night long.

I called him repeatedly, hoping to remind him he had a wife, praying he’d regain his composure in his chaotic pursuit of Kya and that he wouldn’t doom our marriage.

But the call wasn’t answered until the early morning.

“Hello? Are you looking for Sydney? He’s exhausted from last night and still hasn’t woken up,” said a woman’s voice on the other end.

I covered my mouth as tears streamed down my face.

“Need me to wake him for you?” she asked, her voice tauntingly sweet.

Seeing ‘My Husband’ on the screen felt like a blade stabbing deep into my chest. The pain was excruciating, suffocating.

I was the victim, yet I felt like a rat scurrying through the streets, desperate to end the call and find somewhere to cry in solitude.

“Oh, your call kept ringing, so I answered it,” she added.

The sound of fabric rustling followed.

Then Sydney’s familiar voice came through, trembling, “Florence, it’s not like what you think. Kya and I didn’t do anything. I’ll explain everything at home.” 

The usually composed man now sounded panicked.

Shortly after, my phone buzzed with notifications. My long-dormant class group chat was unusually active.

Everyone was tagging me: [@Florence, check this out!]

My heart sank as I scrolled through the messages. A photo popped up and it felt like a slap in the face. In the picture, a woman, half-naked, leaned against a man’s shoulder, her lips curled in a blissful smile. Though the man’s face wasn’t visible, I knew it was Sydney. I couldn’t possibly mistake the wedding ring on his finger—it was ours. The design was unique, custom-made by a friend of mine who’s a jewelry designer.

The group chat exploded in an instant.

[@Florence, isn’t that Sydney?]

[You should just step aside and let them be happy. Forced love never lasts. Look how in love they are.]

[Why didn’t you stop him? Two old flames reunited after five years. Of course, something happened last night.]

[Ugh, this is disgusting. Poor Florence.]

Though most comments tried to bring me down, a few were still on my side:

[Don’t jump to conclusions. They’re the model couple of our circle. Sydney even broke his leg for Florence once. He’d never cheat on her.]

[Exactly. Five years and still so in love. They travel abroad every month. Stop spreading rumors.]

***

These people thrived on gossip, eager to see my misery.

I typed back carefully, trying to sound lighthearted.

[Florence: Want me to wake up and have him join a video call to clarify?]

The group fell silent.

I exhaled deeply, trying to steady my nerves.

Then, Rod sent a reply with sly emoji. [Your husband just text me.]

He posted a screenshot of their chat.

[Sydney: Delete it. If those photos get out, it’ll ruin Kya’s reputation.]

[Rod: Are you dumb? I posted them here for your wife to see.]

[Rod: Who do think she’ll believe? You or me?]

Sydney’s arrogance was evident, confident he had me completely under his control.

The chat exploded again.

Rod added, [Pay up, losers.]

[I told you Sydney still has feelings for Kya. He won’t just sit back and let it slide.]

[Give them the chance and those two will definitely roll in the hay.]

[In the face of true love, Florence doesn’t stand a chance!]

[Rob: Stop stalling. I want my money.]

Then, the group was filled with transaction records.

Sydney had turned me into a joke within the circle. Anger and shame wrapped tightly around me.

In just one night, Sydney had betrayed me twice.

Sydney returned and said a lot of apologetic things, but only one sentence stuck in my mind.

“Can you stop being unreasonable? If I still had feelings for Kya, we would’ve already gone to the courthouse and divorced long ago.”

The next day, I went to the beauty salon with my best friend for a treatment. To my surprise, I bumped into Kya.

I glanced at her expensive clothes and jewelry, then at the beauty salon’s nameplate and felt a pang in my heart. Sydney was really generous.

Kya, noticing my displeasure, sneered, “Sorry, Florence. I accidentally slept with your husband yesterday. Hope you're not upset about that.”

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “You still love him, don’t you? I can see why Sydney’s so sure you’ll forgive him. He was so confident about it last night.”

“You know,” she continued, “When Sydney found out that the baby isn’t mine, he was ecstatic. Treated me like I was some kind of treasure he’d just rediscovered.”

“What does that make you? A trophy wife, or just a trash to throw away?” She raised her eyebrow in mockery.

I put my hand on my stomach and chuckled. “I’m the one holding the marriage certificate here. What does that make you?”

I couldn’t help but keep going. “You really don’t have a clue how to be a mistress, do you? No one who’s actually smart about it flaunts themselves in front of the wife. They usually end up getting a reality check.”

Kya's face drained of color and she snapped back, “The mistress is the one who isn’t loved!”

Her eyes dropped to my slightly rounded belly and then she laughed again. “Which one do you think matters more to Sydney? Me or the baby you're carrying?”

I froze. How did she know I was pregnant?

Just as I was lost in thought, Kya charged at me in full speed, elbowing me hard in the stomach. I didn’t take it lying down. I grabbed her hand and kicked her in the knee. She fell to the floor and her clumsy, pitiful appearance made the staff snicker despite themselves.

That only made Kya angrier. She grabbed whatever bottles and jars she could find and hurled them at me. I dodged most of them, but one hit me squarely on the forehead and warm liquid dripped down my face. I didn’t care about my dignity at that point. I grabbed her by the collar and raised my hand to slap her.

But my wrist was suddenly caught with great force. I turned around to find it was Sydney. So they’d come together.

“Florence, have you lost your mind?” he said through gritted teeth. “Where’s your grace and dignity? Do you not realize you’re humiliating yourself?”

The words hit me like a slap. It was laughable, really—Kya had started this whole mess, yet he had the audacity to accuse me of causing a scene. At that moment, clarity struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been lying to myself all along. I realized how unworthy Sydney was of the nine years I wasted on him. He didn’t deserve my true heart.

I was thinking of booking an appointment for an abortion. I didn’t want to love him anymore. I wanted a divorce. I bit my lip, remaining silent, but my grip on Kya’s collar tightened. Every fiber of my being wanted to slap him now, but the strength disparity between us was too great. With no other choice, I released Kya’s collar and only then did Sydney loosen his grip on me. I jerked my hand free, wincing as pain radiated from my reddened wrist. I bit back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Sydney turned to Kya, rushing to her side like the doting hero. Once he was sure she was fine, he shot me a withering glare. But just as he seemed ready to berate me further, his gaze landed on the bleeding gash on my forehead. His expression shifted in an instant, darkening as he turned to Kya.

“Did you do this?” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Kya paled, her confidence faltering. “I-i…. she started it!” she stammered. “She hit me first and called me a homewrecker in front of all the staff. I was only defending myself! Do you know how embarrassing this would be if word got out? So many wealthy women come here. I’d never live it down!”

Sydney didn’t say a word, his face still clouded with anger. Kya, sensing the tension, clung to his arm, her tone shifting to one of saccharine sweetness. “Okay, okay,” she cooed, swaying slightly against him. “I’ll apologize if it makes you happy. Just don’t be mad, alright?”

They looked so intimate, so oblivious to my presence, as if I were nothing more than an unwanted shadow. I stood there, feeling utterly foolish.

“Forget it. This isn’t a big deal,” Sydney muttered, dismissing it all as though nothing had happened.

After stopping Kya from apologizing, he pulled me outside. “Can’t you just stop making trouble?” he said, exasperated. “She just got back from abroad. This place had become foreign to her. She helped me back in school and I’m just trying to repay her kindness. You’re overthinking everything.”