“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.

“Evie, promise me—if you’re ever feeling unwell, you’ll tell me right away, okay?” Hunter’s voice was soft, almost pleading.

Evelyn studied him, her thoughts drifting back to their wedding day. She remembered asking him if he’d love her forever.

Hunter had held her close that day, trembling as if the question alone shook him. “You are my everything. I will never betray you,” he had said, his voice quivering with emotion.

But now, looking at the man in front of her, Evelyn couldn’t help but wonder if those vows had already crumbled into lies.

“What’s on your mind?” Hunter’s gentle touch brought her back to the present. His fingers brushed her hair as he leaned closer, his brow furrowed with concern. “Are you feeling uncomfortable? Should I call the doctor?”

Evelyn met his gaze and asked quietly, “Hunter, do you love me?”

“Of course, I love you,” he replied without hesitation, though her question made him pause. “Is everything okay?” His eyes narrowed slightly, confusion creeping into his expression. “Why do I feel that you’re not acting like yourself lately, Evie? Is there something wrong?”

Before he could press further, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his demeanor shifted instantly. “Sorry,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “There’s an issue at the construction site for one of our projects. I need to go handle it, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise. Rest up, alright?”

Without waiting for her response, he hurried out the door, leaving Evelyn alone in the quiet hospital room.

Evelyn stared at the door Hunter had just walked through. Before she could process her thoughts, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Jennifer. Reluctantly, she opened it and was greeted with a picture: Jennifer, lounging on a bed in seductive lingerie, her pose casual yet deliberate. The accompanying text read: What excuse did he give you this time?

Evelyn’s grip tightened around her phone, her knuckles turning white. The sharp ache in her chest was almost unbearable, as if someone were slowly carving into her with a dull blade.

This wasn’t the first time Jennifer had reached out. For the past two weeks, she had been sending pictures and messages, each one more brazen than the last. Evelyn had ignored them all, refusing to engage, but her silence seemed to only embolden Jennifer.

She stared at the screen for a long moment before finally setting the phone down. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, it was late afternoon. The housekeeper was sitting by her bed and her phone was buzzing again.

This time, the messages were worse.

Photos of a disheveled bed, a close-up of intertwined hands in a foggy shower and a trash can filled with used condoms. Evelyn’s stomach churned, but her expression remained blank as she powered off the screen.

“Let’s go,” she said to the housekeeper.

***

When Evelyn walked into the house, Margaux quickly approached her, taking both of Evelyn’s hands in her own with concern.

“My goodness, sweetheart, you look so pale and thin. Don’t worry, I’ve already asked someone to make you some chicken soup. Once it’s ready, Tessa will bring it up to your room.”

“Thanks,” Evelyn replied, her voice flat and emotionless.

Margaux took a moment to observe her, ensuring Evelyn was in a decent mood before continuing, “I hope you understand. Hunter’s been really busy with work lately. I hope you don’t feel like he’s ignoring you. He loves you, you know.”

Evelyn met her gaze, her eyes calm but unwavering. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice quiet yet piercing, “Busy with work? Really?”

Margaux blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Well, obviously. If it weren’t for work, you know he’d be glued to your side. That boy adores you.”

Evelyn’s lips curled into a faint smile—one that didn’t reach her eyes. She said nothing more, letting Margaux’s words hang in the air as she made her way to the study to catch up on work.

Hunter returned the next morning, dressed in a freshly pressed suit. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes scanned Evelyn’s face anxiously. He rushed to her side, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“No fever. That’s good. Are you feeling okay? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?”

“I’m fine,” she replied evenly.

Relief washed over his features as he pulled her into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, Evie. I should’ve stayed with you at the hospital. I feel terrible for leaving you alone.”

Evelyn tilted her head to look at him, her gaze steady. Her eyes landed on the collar of his crisp white shirt.

And there it was—a faint smudge of lipstick, glaringly out of place.