My colleague texted me a photo on WhatsApp and asked, [Livy, is that your husband? I just saw him at Central Mall.]

I opened the photo and saw Garet walking with a woman, her arms full of shopping bags. Instantly, I recognized them as Garet and Jane. My hands were shaking, and my mind was spinning with disbelief. ‘No way, how? Why? Didn’t he say they were just a part of his past?’ I was overwhelmed with questions.

I tried to calm myself and dialed his number. When he picked up, I asked, “Where are you?” I was forcing myself to sound calm while pinching my own hands.

“I’m working on something, but I’ll be home soon,” he said quickly before hanging up. I felt dizzy, so I sat down with the soup I had made for us, but now eating alone felt like a cruel twist. My mind kept going back to the photo—why would he lie to me? Was he cheating on me?

An hour later, I heard the car pull into the garage. Garet came through the door looking fresh, with only a few wrinkles in his shirt. This was in stark contrast to the way he sounded on the phone earlier.

He saw me sitting at the kitchen bar with an empty bowl and asked, “You made soup?” He glanced at the stove, noticing what was left.

I didn’t say a word, just kept staring at him.

He seemed to pick up on my silence because he turned to face me and said, “You’re still upset, aren’t you? I’m sorry, last night was really urgent. Didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

Even though I was still fuming about last night, the fact that he’d lied today and was hanging out with Jane behind my back was what really crushed me.

“What are you working on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

“Well, we’ve got some new cases—mostly missing persons,” he replied.

“Do any of those cases require a trip to Central Mall?” I pressed, watching his reaction closely.

He paused, and a strange look crossed his face—one I didn’t recognize. I used to be able to read him like a book, but this expression was new.

“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly caught off guard.

I showed him the photo I’d received earlier. “Looks like you’re having a great time with your old lover. Care to explain? I thought you were buried in work.”

“It’s not what it seems, Livy. I was at the mall for work, and I ran into her. We just ended up walking around together. It’s nothing,” he said.

“Stop lying! I don’t believe you anymore. You’re a liar and a cheat. I don’t even recognize you anymore!” I yelled. All my expectations and dreams of him being a good husband were shattered. I felt sick realizing how many lies had been hidden from me.

This was the first major fight we’d had in years, and he kept insisting that I was overreacting, denying everything. The frustration and betrayal were overwhelming, and I felt completely lost.

“You used to be so logical. What happened to you?” Garet snapped, clearly annoyed.

“And you used to be honest with me!” I shot back, trying to hold back tears before storming upstairs.

I slammed my bedroom door and locked it. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened. Was I really being cheated on? He’d told me just a few weeks ago not to worry.

Little did I know, this argument was just the beginning of a much bigger crack in our marriage, one that was only going to get wider.

After crying for what felt like hours, I eventually fell asleep and woke up in the afternoon. I looked around the house—Garet wasn’t there. Good. I wasn’t ready to see him just yet.

The rest of my day off felt like a waste. I lounged on the sofa, staring at the photo, trying to find some reason or explanation for why Garet and Jane were together. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. I wanted to reach out to Roxanne for support, but I was mentally drained and not ready to talk about it.

The next day at the hospital, I saw Jane again. She looked as innocent as ever, and just seeing her made me feel even worse. I called her into my office, and as soon as she walked in, I said, “I know who you are now.”

“Huh, doc?” she asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“You’re Garet’s ex,” I said, cutting to the chase. “Stop playing dumb. If you think you can take him from me, trust me, it won’t be an easy fight.”

She stared at me for a while before putting on a faint smirk. “Ms. Wilson, we’ll see,” she said, her tone laced with a subtle edge.

I was taken aback. The once-gentle young woman had suddenly turned into someone I barely recognized. Before I could come up with a reply, she excused herself and left with that same sweet, innocent smile she always wore.

Once she was gone, I realized she was playing some kind of mind game with me. I clenched my fists and muttered, “Yeah, we’ll see, little girl.”

From that moment on, Jane’s attitude towards me became noticeably more dismissive. She ignored many of my instructions, causing a slew of problems and increasing my workload.

Then one day, I noticed a new notification on my phone—someone had followed my Instagram account under the username “thedreamgirl.” I didn’t think much of it at first. Although I wasn’t very active on social media, I often got random followers for various reasons.

I was in the middle of work, so I just glanced at my phone and then went back to my paperwork. A few minutes later, my phone was buzzing with a flurry of notifications. I picked it up and saw that the account had spammed likes on almost all of my posts, even the oldest ones.

Curious, I clicked on the username. The profile that loaded was brand new—just following me and with no followers of its own. I raised my eyebrows in confusion. This was odd. Most of the random accounts that followed me were either bots or business profiles. Was this one just another bot?

But when I looked at the photos, I was stunned. There were three pictures, each more unsettling than the last.

The first photo was a high-angle selfie of a woman sitting in a car. I couldn’t see her face, just from her chin down. She was wearing a pink dress, and I could see a muscular arm resting on her stomach. The caption read, [My human seatbelt.]

The second photo was taken on an escalator. The woman and a man were holding hands, and she snapped the photo using the reflection in the mirror above the escalator. The location was tagged as Central Mall of Kingsleigh, but there was no caption.

The most recent photo was of a pair of doe eyes looking directly at the camera while leaning on a guy’s shoulder. The caption was just a red heart emoji.

I felt a shiver. Was this really happening? I tried to convince myself it was just a coincidence, but everything seemed too aligned. I recognized the man in the photos—Garet. Connecting the dots, it became clear that Jane was deliberately trying to mess with me. This was clearly intentional, and it made me feel sick.

My heart was racing, so I called Roxanne. She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Livy! What’s up?”

“Do you have time to meet?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hmm, let me think… How about next Saturday? I’m out of town right now.”

“Okay, I’ll take the day off on Saturday. Thanks, Roxanne,” I said, feeling a bit of relief.

“Is this about Garet?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

“Huh?”

“You seem like you want to talk about something important,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when we meet.”

There was a short pause before she said, “Alright, just don’t overthink things too much, okay?”

Her tone was laced with worry, and I could tell she sensed something was off. That’s what they call the best friend’s radar—when you have a close connection with someone, you often pick up on each other’s feelings, even without words.

After the call ended, I took screenshots of the notifications, the weird account’s profile, and the photos, just in case they got deleted later. I planned to lay everything out for Roxanne in person.

I had always been open with her. From the early days of dating Garet to our marriage, I shared my feelings and problems with her. Even though she could be loud and silly at times, she had always given me solid advice and a listening ear.

I crossed my fingers, hoping she could help me this time. She wasn’t a marriage counselor and was still single herself, but it would be comforting to have someone to talk to about this mess.

With a week to go before my meeting with Roxanne, I tried to distract myself by diving into work. I hoped that keeping busy might help quiet my tangled thoughts.

Garet was becoming more and more distant, to the point where he didn’t even want to visit my mom with me. This led to yet another fight. “You have time for that bitch, but when it comes to my mom, you’re busy, huh?” I snapped. Cheating on me was one thing, but disrespecting my mom was crossing the line. She always doted on him, and I knew she loved him as much as she loved me.

“Stop it, Livy! I’m not making excuses. You can check my schedule with my secretary if you don’t trust me. And watch your mouth; don’t go around calling people bitches,” he shot back.

“I don’t care, she’s a little bitch. Are you defending your girlfriend now, Garet? How low can you get? I really thought you were at least a decent man.”

We fought constantly. Whenever we were together, it was either yelling and shouting or cold, silent treatment. The relentless online harassment didn’t help either. That account, which I was convinced was run by Jane, kept sending me photos of my husband whenever they were together. All I could do was mute it.

I started to think this was Jane’s way of getting back at me. I could make things tough for her at work, but she could even the score by wrecking my marriage and flaunting her affair with my husband. I wanted to confront her publicly, but I knew I had to be smart or I’d end up embarrassing myself. She cleverly hid her face and identity, leaving just enough clues for me to know it was her, but not enough for me to call her out. What a snake!

A few days later, my mom called me again. “Livy, when will you be here? You’re making me sad.”

I realized it had been a month since Mom asked me to visit her. With everything going on with Garet, I wasn’t sure what to say. If Mom found out we were having issues, she’d be so worried.

“Yeah, Mom. Garet’s still busy with some cases. I think I’ll visit you alone at the end of the month,” I replied. Reconnecting with nature and spending time with my mom sounded like the therapy I needed.

“Are you two okay?” she asked.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” I tried to sound cheerful to keep her from worrying. “We bought you a bunch of multivitamins and supplements. You have to take them all and stay healthy,” I added.

“I don’t need those. I eat natural foods here. So unlike you city people. I’ll be fine,” Mom joked.

We chatted for another ten minutes, mostly about the fruits she was growing and harvesting. I felt much better after talking to her and headed to the pantry to make some coffee.

Inside, a few nurses were chatting and laughing.

“Are you sure it’s her?”

“Yes, she’s that pretty intern.”

“You saw her getting out of a BMW in the lobby? Do you think she’s rich?”

“No, it must be her sugar daddy.”

“You sure it was a BMW?”

“Geez, why don’t you believe me? I saw it with my own eyes. It was a red BMW, something we can’t afford.”

“Well, no wonder. She’s pretty; she can get a rich man easily.”

“And she’s still young, too.”

I tried to ignore their gossip as I focused on making my coffee, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Garet drove a red BMW, and I couldn’t shake the bad feeling creeping in.

I turned around. “Who are you girls talking about?”

They looked caught off guard and nervous. My reputation as a strict and serious doctor probably made them worry about being scolded for gossiping.

“No, Ms. Wilson, it’s...”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to scold you. I’m just curious,” I reassured them.

“Eh, it’s Jane Dunne. The intern under you... but it’s just our assumption, we didn’t mean to…”

“Miss Dunne? Okay, that’s all I wanted to know,” I said, heading back to my office, leaving them looking puzzled.

I called the nurse's desk and asked for Jane to come to my office. She walked in and asked calmly, “You wanted to see me, Doc?”

I always found it sickening to deal with people like her; they were the hardest to handle.

“Yeah, have a seat,” I said.

We locked eyes for a few seconds in silence. Then, I spoke, “I know what you’re up to. It’s not going to work. Do you forget that I’m your superior here? You think you can do whatever you want without facing consequences?”

I had to make her understand her place and stop acting like a brat. She showed no expression and said, “I don’t understand, Ms. Wilson. What are you talking about?”

“It’s no use playing dumb with me. I’ve spoken to the director. You’re not passing your internship here, and you’re banned from applying again,” I said firmly. This girl wanted to play stupid games, and now she could have her stupid prize.

Her expression quickly changed, and she looked devastated. “No, you can’t do this! You can’t kick me out just because of a personal opinion!”

“Actually, I can. Do you forget who I am? I’m the key doctor here, and the director trusts me. And you’re just an intern, a lousy one who’s always messing around. I have enough proof of your poor work, Jane,” I said, smirking.

She was silent, looking shocked.

“Why? You think I’m weak, and you can pester me all you want? Silly girl.”

“You old witch! You can’t stop me! I’ll take Garry back, take your place, and get rid of you! Just watch, I will… I will…” She suddenly jumped at me and tried to pull my hair with both hands.

She knocked my glass down, and it shattered on the floor. I didn’t expect her to get violent and shouted for help. The loud commotion attracted people outside, and a few rushed in, shocked to see the scene.

Three people tried to separate us, and quickly, security guards were called.

They dragged Jane out, and asked if I was okay. She was still yelling, “This isn’t over! You’ll regret it! Let me go! Let me go!”

Jane looked disheveled and crazy. Understandably so; this hospital was renowned in the whole country, and being marked as incompetent here could end anyone’s medical career. She wouldn’t get a job as a nurse anywhere in the area.

I didn’t want to play the power card, but she pushed me to it, and I had no other choice.

The morning after the incident, Garet came home. He saw me making breakfast and walked over.

I heard his footsteps but ignored him. I wasn’t about to greet him warmly or offer him food like I used to. He never appreciated it anyway.

“Why did you do that?” he asked abruptly.

“Did what?” I replied.

“Come on, Livy. Don’t be childish. You’re ruining someone’s life.”

“Me? Childish? Ruining someone’s life?” I laughed. “Garet, are you serious? My life’s the one that's ruined. Can’t you see that?”

“You should’ve known better than to play behind my back, Garet. You’re clearly cheating on me, yet you blame me. I’m your wife, and I have to beg for your time. Haven’t I treated you well? Tell me, what did I do to deserve this? You’re a selfish jerk. You have a wife but can’t resist your ex. What a weak man!”

He stayed silent, clenching his teeth, and then just turned around and left the house. I didn’t stop him. My feelings for him, built up over so many years, had faded almost completely. Constant distrust and disappointment had really taken their toll on our love.

***

The day of our meeting finally arrived. Roxanne and I planned to catch up at D’Perez for brunch and coffee. When we met, we hugged and exchanged updates. Roxanne had been busy with road tours as a radio host, attending events and traveling frequently. I was genuinely happy for her; she seemed to love her job.

Once our coffee and pastries arrived, I started to unload everything. I told her about the online harassment, Garet’s odd behavior, and the fights with Garet and Jane. Roxanne listened intently, nodding and looking genuinely concerned, but she didn’t interrupt.

As I spoke, my eyes began to sting, and tears finally began to flow. I’d tried so hard to stay strong these past few weeks, but now I could let it all out with her.

Roxanne handed me some tissues and sipped her coffee. “I can’t believe Garet would do this to you. And Jane—what a horrible woman. They both are disgusting. You deserve so much better, Livy,” she said, patting my shoulder.

I was sniffling and struggling to respond. “You know what I think? You should gather all the evidence you can and wait for the perfect moment to act. Don’t show them your jealousy or anger. Can you manage that?” she suggested.

“I’ll try,” I said. “My feelings for Garet have changed. I don’t respect him anymore, and love needs respect.”

“Good, you’re so strong, Livy. Do you need a private detective to gather information? I can help with that,” Roxanne offered.

“No, I’ll handle it myself. After all, Garet’s a private detective too,” I said with a bitter smile. The thought of a private detective getting investigated by fellow detectives felt like something out of a movie.

We chatted for hours, and I felt refreshed. We didn’t run into Leon, and an employee mentioned he was out of town. Around noon, Roxanne suggested, “Why don’t we go shopping? I don’t have any plans, and retail therapy is always a good idea, right?”

I agreed. It had been a while since I’d splurged on new clothes, shoes, bags, or accessories.

We headed to the mall and browsed through the stores. I ended up buying a new work suit, a party dress, and a pair of high heels. Next, we went to a hair and nail salon. Roxanne was excited to try a new hairstyle, and so was I. The stylist recommended a medium-length cut with layers, and I went for it. I also decided to dye my dark brown hair golden brown with strawberry blonde highlights.

The whole process took about two hours, but it was enjoyable since I got to chat with Roxanne while we waited.

When my hair was finally styled and dried, I was stunned. I hadn’t realized how much a new hairstyle could transform someone. Roxanne was equally thrilled with her new look; it suited her perfectly.

“OMG, Livy!” she exclaimed.

“I know, right? It’s unbelievable! You look even more stunning—though you were pretty before,” I teased.

“I’m not talking about me. Look at you! Who are you? I’d think you were a model if I didn’t know you!” she said, wide-eyed.

“Oh, shut up!” I laughed, blushing but genuinely happy. The new hairstyle and color really did make a difference.

“Can we take some photos and videos for Instagram?” the salon employee asked.

“Yes, definitely! We need them for ourselves too!” Roxanne said eagerly. After a few snapshots and videos, we headed out of the nail station. I also got my nails done. I have a bad habit of biting them, which made them look pretty rough. So, getting a manicure was definitely overdue.

Outside, the sky was getting darker, signaling that it was time to go home. This day had really lifted my spirits and boosted my confidence. Roxanne drove me back to my place, and I thanked her for a much-needed break from all the storms in my life.

She waved goodbye as she drove off, and I walked into the house to find it empty. It wasn’t surprising—I wasn’t even sure where Garet was these days. The last time we talked was when he was furious after I kicked Jane out of the hospital a few days ago.

Feeling refreshed, I didn’t want to let thoughts of him ruin my mood. Instead, I scrolled through my phone, looking at the photos from the salon. We looked adorable, and I wanted to keep the memory of this fun day alive, so I uploaded a few pictures.

Almost immediately, I started getting likes and positive comments from friends and acquaintances. I replied to them while smiling.

[OMG!! We’re so cute], Roxanne commented. Just as I was about to respond, I noticed a comment from Jane’s alleged account, hisdreamgirl, saying [Eww, ugly whores.]

I rolled my eyes, took a screenshot of the comment, and then removed it. I wasn’t ready to block her yet because I needed more evidence. I messaged Roxanne about the comment, and she replied, [I want to punch her so bad.]

I sent back a string of laughing emojis.

Then another notification popped up. I assumed it was from Roxanne, but it turned out to be a comment from a fellow doctor. Hendrickjones: [Nice hair, Livia.]

Hendrick was a well-respected doctor, known for his skills and quiet demeanor. We hadn’t interacted much before, but he seemed pleasant. I thanked him and didn’t give it too much thought.

As the days dragged on, I was eagerly awaiting the long weekend at the end of the month, when I planned to visit my mom. Meanwhile, Jane’s harassment continued. She’d even started sending me threatening messages on WhatsApp. I followed the advice I’d received and made sure to document everything and archive the chat.

One morning, I found an invitation on my desk. It was from Hendrick Jones, inviting me to a housewarming party. He’d just moved into a new place and wanted to celebrate. I was a bit surprised since we weren’t very close and worked in different divisions. However, after seeing the group chat and realizing that many of my colleagues were attending, I decided to go.

At noon, I ran into Hendrick in the cafeteria. He started a conversation, “You’re coming to the party, right, Ms. Wilson?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. It’s the day after tomorrow, right?” I replied.

“Exactly,” he said. There was a brief pause before he added, “By the way, your hair really looks great. Has anyone told you that?”

I laughed and replied, “Thanks, Mr. Jones. I’ve been getting compliments on my hair all day.”

It was true—some of the nurses even mentioned I looked ten years younger with the new style. If that was the case, I figured a fresh haircut might be more effective than Botox.

“Of course,” Hendrick said with a smile. I said my goodbyes and went to join my colleagues for lunch.

Throughout the meal, I noticed Hendrick glancing over at me, which made me feel a bit shy. He was quite attractive in his own way. Even though he wore glasses, his blue eyes were captivating, and his blonde hair added to his charm. While Garet had sharp, intense features, Hendrick had a calm, deep presence. If Garet was a towering mountain, Hendrick felt more like a tranquil sea.

I tried to focus on my meal and not get caught up in the comparisons. When the day of the party finally arrived, I headed home after work and changed into the maroon dress I’d bought with Roxanne. The dress fit beautifully, highlighting my curves without being too revealing. I was in a great mood as I applied some light makeup and styled my hair.

Feeling confident and uplifted by my outfit and makeup, I was about to leave for the party when a car pulled up right in front of my house.