Five years into their marriage, Hunter was just as devoted as he had promised in their vows. He spoiled her with love, whether it was in their personal life or at work. He made sure she never faced any hardships and to the outside world, they were the picture-perfect couple everyone envied.

But then, Hunter cheated.

It happened about two weeks ago, though the memory was still seared into Evelyn’s mind. She had walked past a streetlight and seen Hunter with Jennifer Clay, kissing her passionately in the middle of the street. It played over and over, like a scene from a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. 

Before that day, she’d never imagined that Hunter could betray her. But once she uncovered the truth, she couldn’t deny it—the so-called “deep love” they had was nothing but a cruel joke. The man who once promised to love her forever, who adored her every moment, was no longer the man she married. He was dead to her.

They had signed a marital property agreement when they read their vows. If either of them cheated, the betrayed spouse would get half of everything. For the past two weeks, Evelyn had been gathering evidence of his affair and, with the help of her best friend, planning an “accident” that would allow her to fake her death and disappear forever. She couldn’t bear the thought of living with the man who had betrayed her and she was determined to make him pay.

As Evelyn walked out of the law office, she headed toward the parking lot to her car when a horn honked nearby. She turned and a familiar car stopped in front of her.

It was Hunter, his smile gentle and his voice as sweet as honey. “Evening, Mrs. Fairchild, may I have the honor of taking you out for dinner?”

Her colleagues, who were walking with her, laughed lightly. “Oh, look at that. The ruthless businessman everyone talks about—the one and only Mr. Fairchild—acting all sweet in front of us for his lovely soulmate.”

Hunter waved off their comments with a smile, nodding to them politely. “I’m flattered. Remind me to treat you meal another time.”

Evelyn didn’t respond. She opened the door and slid into the car.

“Let’s go,” she said flatly.

Hunter leaned over and gently buckled her seatbelt for her, “As you wish, my dear.”

The car pulled away, but the atmosphere inside was heavy with unspoken words and emotions that simmered beneath the surface. Evelyn’s gaze was fixed on the road ahead—cold and unyielding. The warmth her eyes once radiated was gone, replaced by the icy resolve of someone who had been deeply betrayed.

Even at the restaurant, she stayed quiet. Her head was bowed, her eyes fixed on the bowl in front of her, refusing to glance at Hunter or utter a single word. The tension in the air was palpable.

Suddenly, Hunter rose from his seat.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he said before walking away.

A few minutes later, he returned, pushing a dessert cart with a cake adorned with lit candles. Soft music played in the background—the familiar tune of a birthday song filling the room.

“Happy birthday, Evelyn,” Hunter said, his face glowing with a broad smile.

He pulled out a stunning limited-edition necklace, one Evelyn had admired for months. His eyes sparkled with hope as he held it out to her. Evelyn had mentioned loving it the first time she saw it, but at the time, he hadn’t bought it for her, claiming it had sold out.  But the next day, Evelyn saw it wrapped around Jennifer’s neck in a selfie. She realized that wasn’t that he couldn't get it—it was that he care more for Jennifer.

Evelyn stared at him, her face devoid of excitement or joy, only filled with an overwhelming sense of disappointment. The gift, the cake, the words—nothing touched her. Her face remained unreadable. Inside, she was filled with nothing but bitterness.

Hunter noticed Evelyn's lack of enthusiasm and reached across the table, gently taking her hand in his. His grip was soft, almost apologetic, as his voice dropped into a tender tone. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to miss your birthday. I’ve been busy with work, but I shouldn’t use it as an excuse. You must be upset and I understand. But please, don’t hate me. It breaks my heart to see you sad and it would shatter me a thousand times more if you hated me.”

Evelyn didn’t respond immediately, her face calm and unreadable. She had no intention of confronting him—not now. His words, dripping with contrition, didn’t sway her. She knew the truth and it stood like an unyielding wall between them.

The reason he had forgotten her birthday wasn’t because of work. It was because Jennifer had been sick that day and Hunter had spent the evening at the hospital with her. On her birthday, he had chosen Jennifer.

“I’m not upset,” Evelyn said at last, her tone even, betraying nothing of the storm beneath.

Hunter’s brow, creased with worry, softened at her response. Relief washed over his face and he smiled, leaning forward as if her words had lifted a great weight from him.

“You’re the best woman in the world, Evelyn,” he said, his sincerity almost convincing. His thumb lightly brushed the back of her hand. “I’m so lucky to have you as my wife.”

Evelyn’s face remained composed, her faint smile carefully measured. But inside, she felt a sharp, bitter twist of irony. If he truly believed that, how could he betray their marriage so easily?

“Evie, I promise, from now on, I’ll never forget your birthday again,” Hunter said softly, his tone filled with regret.

Evelyn looked at him, her lips pressed into a faint smile, but her thoughts betrayed her composure. Evelyn looked at him, her lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. On the surface, her expression appeared composed, serene even, but her thoughts simmered beneath the mask she wore.

“Hunter,” her mind whispered coldly, “there won’t be a next time for us. From the moment you betrayed me—betrayed our marriage—I decided I could never forgive you.”

When they arrived home, Margaux Fairchild, Hunter’s mother, was there to greet them at the door.

“Evie, Hunter, you're just getting home? Where have you been?”  greeted Margaux Fairchild, Hunter's mother, warmly as they arrived at the house.

“I took Evie out for dinner,” Hunter said smoothly, slipping right into his role as the loving husband.

Margaux’s eyes landed on the necklace around Evelyn’s neck and a pleased smile spread across her face. “That’s great, son. You two look so sweet together. It makes me so happy to see you getting along like this.”

“You must be worn out after such a long day. Go on upstairs and get some rest," she added with a gentle wave.

“Exactly. Evie’s probably wiped out after working all day. I’ll head up now, Mom.”

“Of course! I’ll have her bring it right to your room,” Margaux said with a nod, her voice filled with motherly concern.

Evelyn stayed quiet the whole time, letting the mother-son duo chat. Her face was calm, not showing even a hint of emotion. When they finally reached their bedroom, the moment Margaux’s approving gaze was no longer on her, a cold bitterness settled over her.

For years, Evelyn had believed in the bond she shared with Margaux. Even though Margaux was well aware that Evelyn came from a humble, almost struggling background, she had never looked down on her. Margaux had always treated her with kindness, never making her feel unworthy or out of place. Their relationship had seemed genuine—a connection built on mutual respect and care that Evelyn had treasured deeply.

But it turned out to be nothing like she had imagined. The feelings she thought were mutual were, in truth, entirely one-sided.

Last week, Evelyn had overheard a conversation between Hunter and Margaux outside the study door. It was the kind of revelation that shattered illusions.

“You get yourself a graceful, understanding wife at home and a sweet little gem outside. Good,” Margaux’s voice had been casual, as though she were discussing something as trivial as weekend plans.

“Just make sure to play it good. Don’t let Evie find out,” she added with a light laugh.

The memory cut through Evelyn like a knife, leaving her with nothing but the chilling realization that her bond with Margaux had never been mutual.

“What’s wrong, Evie? Is something bothering you?” Hunter’s voice pulled her back to the present.

“No,” she replied, her tone neutral and distant.

Hunter moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. His touch, once comforting, now made her skin crawl. “Evelyn,” he murmured, his voice dripping with an intimacy that sickened her.

Evelyn turned to face him, her expression composed, but the look in his eyes—familiar and filled with desire—made her stomach churn. “I’m tired,” she said curtly, cutting off whatever intention he had.

Hunter seemed to take the hint. He rested his head on her shoulder and sighed. “Alright, then, I won’t push. Let’s take a bath together instead.”

“You go ahead. I have some work to finish,” she replied evenly.

“Okay,” he relented, pressing a kiss to her forehead before heading into the bathroom.

Hunter spent an unusually long time in the bathroom and when he finally emerged, there was a hurried urgency in his demeanor.

“Something came up at the office. I need to head out for a bit. Don’t wait up for me—just get some rest.”

Without waiting for her response, Hunter grabbed his keys and left in a rush.

Evelyn watched from the window as his car disappeared from the driveway. Then, without hesitation, she grabbed her own keys and followed him.

Half an hour later, Evelyn arrived at a villa—one of Hunter’s properties. From the shadows, she watched as Hunter greeted Jennifer at the door. The two embraced, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss that made Evelyn’s stomach turn.

She pulled out her phone and recorded the scene, her face devoid of emotion as she documented the betrayal. The irony of it all was almost laughable.

Evelyn stayed parked outside the villa for two hours, but Hunter didn’t come out. Instead, her phone buzzed with a notification. It was a post from Jennifer’s social media account.

The caption read: [When you meet the right person, you’ll fall in love with them over and over again.]

Accompanying the post were three photos—a faceless couple sharing an intimate kiss in bed, a luxurious bubble bath for two and a limited-edition bracelet Evelyn recognized all too well.

Jennifer was a minor celebrity and the post quickly garnered attention. Comments flooded in, praising the supposed romance:

[Wow, so happy for you! Your boyfriend’s so sweet!]

[Can we get the details on what happened before and after the bubble bath?]

[You’re new here? We’ve seen her in bubble baths one so many time. It’s their favourite!]

[Wow, these two do this every day? Now I’m dying to know what kind of guy her boyfriend is.]

[Probably a man who is obsessed with his woman. Like Hunter Fairchild.]

Among the flurry of comments under Jennifer’s post, one stood out. It was from an account named The Real H.F.

The Real H.F.: [This day was unforgettable.]

The comment section erupted:

[OMG, it’s him! This must be her boyfriend!]

[Seriously? This PDA is next level. So, we’ve been part of their show all along?]

Evelyn’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as she read the comments. There was no mistaking it—The Real H.F. was Hunter’s account.

Such a blatant, public display of affection, even though Evelyn had long given up on Hunter, seeing this still made her chest tighten painfully, her heart aching in spite of herself. Her phone buzzed suddenly. Hunter was calling.

“Hey, honey, you still up?”

“Yeah,” Evelyn said, doing her best to keep her tone neutral.

Hunter’s voice was soft, almost guilty. “I’m sorry, Evie. Things at work got crazy. I don’t think I can make it home tonight. Go sleep without me and stay warm. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Evelyn forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Coming straight from Jennifer’s bed and now calling to play the doting husband—Hunter really had mastered the art of deceit.

“Okay,” she replied flatly.

“Alright, goodnight, honey. Sleep well.”

After hanging up, Evelyn glanced briefly at the glow from the master bedroom window upstairs. Without another thought, she started her car and drove away.

The next morning, Evelyn knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. Her body felt heavy, her head was pounding and dizziness washed over her. She’d caught a cold. Her immune system had always been weak and the chill from the night before make it worse. She quickly got ready and went downstairs, only to bump into Hunter, who had just returned home.

He was dressed in a crisp new suit and his sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on her pale face. His brows furrowed and he rushed to her side.

“Evie,” he said, his voice filled with worry. “You don’t look good. Are you okay?”

Evelyn didn’t answer and brushed past him, heading for the door. Hunter followed her and before she could protest, he swept her up into his arms.

“This is my fault,” he said, his tone firm. “I should’ve stayed with you last night. We’re going to the hospital right now.”

At the hospital, Evelyn lay back on the bed, her eyes closed as the IV drip worked its way through her veins. Her body felt weak, her energy completely drained.

Hunter sat by her side, his gaze fixed on her. After a long silence, he asked softly, “Evie, are you mad at me?”

“For what?” she murmured.

He sighed, guilt etched into his features. “I’ve been so caught up with work, I haven’t been there for you. I promise I’ll stay with you until you’re better.”

And he did.

Hunter didn’t leave her side all day.

When her hand felt cold from the IV, he held it in his warm palms, his touch gentle and reassuring. He brought her seafood chowder from her favorite restaurant, feeding her spoonfuls with a tenderness that almost seemed genuine. He even shared funny little stories to distract her from the discomfort, keeping her entertained despite her exhaustion.

When the nurse came in to draw blood, Hunter stayed close, hovering protectively over Evelyn. “It’s okay, Evie. You don’t need to worry about a thing. I’m right here,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

He turned to the nurse, his expression serious. “Please be gentle. She’s had a rough night and I don’t want this to add to her discomfort.”

The nurse couldn’t help but smile, clearly charmed. “Mr. Fairchild, you really adore her, don’t you? Mrs. Fairchild’s one lucky woman.”

To outsiders, it seemed like Hunter cared deeply for her, like she was his entire world. If Evelyn hadn’t known about Jennifer or uncovered the truth about his betrayal, she might have been fooled. She might have still believed in his love, completely blind to the lies hiding behind his perfect façade.