Maggie's POV

“Wait, did Brigham actually agree to let you leave? He’s never been the type to let you out of his sight,” she asked, doubting.

I forced myself to answer, my throat tight. “He’s cheating. Right now, he’s in San Francisco with her.”

Eyes widened, she shrieked, “What the hell?!”

Normally, it would’ve taken my best friend thirty minutes to get to my place, but this time she showed up in ten.

She sat down beside me, worry etched on her face, and patted my shoulder. “Are you sure?”

I gave a bitter laugh, pulled out my phone, and laid out all the evidence I had collected.

“God, that bastard Brigham. How dare he? He’s been acting all high and mighty, like some perfect husband.”

Before I could say anything, she was already tugging me to my feet. “Come on. First stop, the hospital. We need to make sure you didn’t catch some disgusting disease from him.”

Her words made my eyelid twitch. Without another word, I grabbed my things and followed her straight to the hospital.

The wait for the results felt endless. All I could do was piece together the timeline of his betrayal.

The first month of our marriage, they met. He played the hero, saving her from some “danger,” and she fell for him instantly.

[I couldn't believe the 'love at first sight' I only watched on drama would happen to me!] she posted.

By the third month, his mother was pressuring us to start trying for a baby. Meanwhile, I was crushed after being diagnosed with blocked fallopian tubes. That was when he accepted her confession.

[Persistence finally pays off! There’s really no man I can’t win over. I’m so happy!]

The fourth month, while I was lying on a cold operating table for a fallopian tube procedure, Brigham claimed he was on a business trip. In reality, he flew abroad with her for a “honeymoon.”

[Happiness is having the one you love by your side.]

The post was complete with a photo of them holding hands.

I thought back to when we first got together in college. He had always been so shy. Whenever I tried to hold his hand in public, he would brush me off.

“What if someone sees?” he panickingly asked.

Chuckling, I answered, “Come on, we’re in college already. It’s not like we’re kids sneaking around.”

No matter how much I pouted or begged, he refused to show affection in front of others. Posting a photo of us holding hands online was out of the question.

“Our love doesn’t need to be put on display,” he would say.

When the hospital results finally came out, everything was clear. I was healthy. I exhaled in relief and boarded a plane to San Francisco with my best friend.

Mid-flight, the private investigator I’d hired sent me a video.

Brigham and the other woman were strolling through different tourist spots, chatting, laughing, and sticking close to each other like a real couple.

“They’re disgusting. Playing house like they’re married,” my best friend spat, furious on my behalf.

I just stared blankly at the photos. My voice came out soft, almost fragile. “Do you think Brigham ever really loved me?”

I hated myself for being so pathetic, still hung up on that question.

Then, another message came in from the investigator reporting that the two of them had booked a room at a resort for tonight.

As if on cue, Brigham’s name lit up on my screen. He called, over and over, but I declined every time until he finally gave up and sent a message instead.

[Honey, why aren’t you answering? I’ve run into some issues and might need to stay a few extra days.]

That was when the ignored details came rushing back. Maybe he did love me. But he loved her more.

Whenever it came down to a choice, he always picked her without hesitation.

His heart had already shifted long ago, and I’d been too blind to see it.

The thought made my chest ache so badly that I could barely breathe. I hated him for stringing me along with scraps of affection, just enough to keep me hooked.

My best friend, on the other hand, wrapped an arm around me, cursing nonstop. “That bastard’s going to rot in hell!”

When we landed, we headed straight for the resort, and the moment I saw it, my heart twisted. This was the same place where Brigham and I had spent our honeymoon.

Not far away, I could hear the woman’s voice, sulking playfully.

“I’m jealous. Your first time here wasn’t with me.”

The hotel receptionist gave them a curious look as she pouted and leaned into his arms while he just smiled indulgently, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

Maggie's POV

“Maybe the first time wasn’t with you,” Brigham said softly, pulling her close, “but every time after this will be.”

“But I still feel upset,” she pouted. “This was my first trip to a resort.”

“Baby, I honestly forgot I’d even been here before. If you hadn’t brought it up, it wouldn’t have crossed my mind.”

That made her smile again, finally satisfied.

“You two have such a great relationship,” the receptionist said warmly, teasing them.

Her cheeks flushed. “We’re not married yet.”

Brigham pulled her into his arms, possessive. “Soon.”

I, on the other hand, suddenly felt like nothing more than a stone in their path, something they’d kick aside when it got in the way.

But I wasn’t going to take it lying down. I switched on my location and posted it to my social media.

By evening, Brigham finally called. No doubt he was too busy holding her in his arms to notice my updates. His soon-to-be ex-wife was the last thing on his mind.

“Honey, you came to San Francisco and didn’t even tell me?”

“I was planning to surprise you.” My laugh came out bitter. “But the resort’s too far from your hotel. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect.” He relaxed, his voice gentler. “I’ve been calling all day, texting too, but you didn’t answer. You scared me.”

Letting out a dry chuckle, I replied, “What’s there to be scared of? I’m not a child. I won’t get lost.”

“But I wish you were, so that I could keep you with me on every trip and tuck you right in my pocket.”

Once, words like that would’ve melted me. But now they tasted like chocolate-coated shit, sickly sweet and impossible to swallow.

“You’d probably get sick of me if that were true,” I countered.

“Never. When you’re with me, I feel at peace. Once I’m back from this trip, let’s go abroad together. It’s been way too long since I’ve taken you anywhere.”

His voice was warm, full of concern and regret.

“I'm always chasing money,” he sighed, “I’ve neglected spending time with you.”

I stared at him from a distance, his arm wrapped around another woman. Is that guilt? Now, of all times?

What a joke. That apology was years too late.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I said flatly.

Panic flickered in his voice. “Honey, did something happen? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” I lied.

But Brigham suddenly shot to his feet, shoving the girl beside him without a thought. She stumbled, frowning.

“Baby, what’s your problem?” she asked, confused.

Yet he ignored her completely, scanning the area like he could spot me. “Honey, why don’t I come find you right now?”

“I’m with Marga, my best friend. Why would you come?”

His tone then shifted into pitiful, almost childlike. “You only think about your friend. We haven’t seen each other in so long. I miss you so much.”

I smiled faintly. “If I came to see you right now, it wouldn’t be convenient for you, would it?”

For once, Brigham was silent. Then, in a rush, he denied, “What wouldn’t be convenient? I’m living alone.”

“Or maybe you’d rather the office gossip that you can’t live without me, dragging your wife along even on business trips?” I replied.

That shut him up. Finally, with reluctance, he hung up. Moments later, I watched as he hurriedly pulled the girl away.

“I’m taking you back.”

She stopped in her tracks, incredulous. “What do you mean, back? It’s late. You expect me to just pack up and leave?”

His expression darkened, frustration showing as he raked a hand through his hair. He looked ready to shove her into the nearest taxi.

But she resisted fiercely, pushing him away with tears welled up in her eyes.

“At this hour? I don’t even have my bags packed or a ticket. You’re just going to send me off like that?” Her voice cracked, turning into sobs.

Seemingly snapped back to his senses, his tone softened instantly. He pulled her into his arms again and soothed her gently. “My wife’s here. She’s coming to see me tomorrow.”

Maggie's POV

The moment Brigham mentioned me, the girl’s tears fell harder. She glared at Brigham with watery eyes and spat, “So you’re pushing me aside for your wife again? When are you two finally getting divorced?”

Brigham’s patience snapped. He sank onto a lobby sofa and tossed his phone on the table.

“Baby, you know I can’t divorce her yet.”

Still unsatisfied, she pouted and pressed him again. “Then at least come with me to my class reunion tomorrow. I’m tired of being your hidden mistress. All my friends know I have a boyfriend, but they’ve never seen you.”

That was hard for him to refuse, so without hesitation, he picked up his phone and called me to cancel our plans for tomorrow.

But I didn’t answer. I let it ring, watching him grow more frustrated. His jaw tightened until finally, in anger, he slammed his phone to the floor.

Only after his temper burned out did I call back, my voice light and casual.

“Sorry, honey, I was in the shower. What’s up?”

“Honey, something urgent came up tomorrow. Let’s meet the day after instead.”

“That’s fine. Your work’s more important.”

I kept my tone calm, almost careless, while he rushed to reassure me.

“Honey, it’s all for our future. You have to understand.”

Some lies were so rehearsed they started sounding true, even to the liar himself.

I could hear the relief in his voice. His whole body seemed to loosen as he started making calls, booking a private room at a luxury restaurant for her reunion.

From where I sat watching, I saw the girl smothering his face with happy kisses.

Beside me, my best friend gagged dramatically, covering her mouth. “God, those two act like they’re some epic love story. So disgusting!”

It was just fine. Let them laugh tonight. Tomorrow, I’d make sure their smiles froze on their faces.

Brigham spared no expense. The menu, the wine, everything was top-shelf.

“All on your shared marital account,” my best friend muttered, shaking her head. “He’s generous when it’s your money.”

Through the surveillance feed, we watched as the girl clung to his arm, soaking up every compliment. Her classmates, on the other hand, gushed about what a catch he was, and she couldn’t stop grinning.

That was my cue.

I pushed the door open and walked straight in.

“Honey, I heard you were in this private room, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

I ignored the girl’s hand latched onto his arm and headed directly for Brigham.

“Who’s this?” someone whispered.

“No way. That’s his wife?”

The girl’s eyes darted to Brigham, waiting for him to deny it, but he just sat there frozen, staring at me in silence.

Panic flickered across her face. She shot to her feet and shouted for the waiter. “We don’t know this woman! How could you let a stranger in here? Get her out!”

I gave a low laugh. My best friend didn’t even hesitate. She snatched up a bottle of red wine from the table and dumped it over the girl’s head.

“And who gave you the right to question his actual wife?”

I lifted a glass and tossed it in Brigham’s face. “Need to wash your eyes, honey? Don’t mistake your wife for someone else.”