Chapter 1Six years into my CIA secret mission, and once again my husband was too busy to visit.
So I took a 36-hour train ride, bought flowers outside his university to surprise him.
"Want a card?" the shop girl chirped.
I nodded and gave her my husband's name.
Her smile died.
"BACK OFF—why are you sending roses to my boss's husband?!"
I froze. "Excuse me?"
"Those two are SOLID. So whatever homewrecking shit you're trying to pull? Save it."
My face heated.
"Oh, so that name's trademarked exclusively to your boss now?"
She didn't argue. Just pointed at a framed marriage certificate on the wall.
"That the Logan Hayes you're talking about?"
My chest went ice-cold.
My Logan. In a tux. Standing next to some woman I'd never seen.
She tossed my roses back in the bucket and made a call.
Two minutes later, a woman walked in pushing a stroller.
"So YOU'RE the desperate bitch trying to steal MY husband?"
Wait—so my devoted husband really cheated while I was saving the damn country?!
Funny. I hunt terrorists for a living.
Finding your dirty secrets? Child's play.
...
"Ever since my husband made professor, desperate women like you show up DAILY!"
Then she spotted the badge under my coat.
"A government officer? And you're out here wrecking marriages?"
Her voice carried. People turned to look.
Someone laughed.
"Daisy, relax. You spoil Professor Hayes rotten—he's not looking at anyone else."
"Maybe she's just here about work. Ask first."
The woman's tone softened slightly.
"What do you want with my husband?"
I swallowed hard, trying to process what I was seeing.
"I'm here for her journal."
She visibly relaxed. Pulled me toward a chair, all smiles now.
"Oh! See? Misunderstanding."
"I'm Daisy Marlowe. Logan's wife."
"You're here about his latest study, right? The one on... what was it, some kind of radiation?"
"Neutron radiation research." My voice came out flat.
Daisy laughed.
"Right! You're educated, obviously."
"Not like me—barely made it through high school."
I forced something resembling a smile.
Logan and I both had PhDs.
He became a professor. I got trapped in CIA for six years.
Six years alone in the Langley.
I took care of his mother ALONE.
Carried everything ALONE.
Earned every honor ALONE.
And the whole time, my husband was building a second life behind my back.
An older woman walked past the shop.
"Out shopping for Professor Hayes again?"
Daisy grinned.
"Shh, Ms. Parker. If Logan finds out I'm doing this, he'll feel guilty."
The woman smiled at me.
"Fifty years on this earth, and I've never seen a couple this in love."
"Logan's clearly from money—never lifted a finger in his life."
"But for Daisy? He's up at 5 a.m. every day cooking for her."
"She can't handle spice, so he picks out every single pepper flake from his soup. One by one."
Each word was a knife.
Daisy handed me a cake.
"Eat something. You came all this way—must be starving."
"When you settle down, find someone like my Logan. Someone who takes care of you."
"We work hard out here, right? All for a warm home and family."
The irony was almost unbearable.
My Logan—the one I thought was brilliant but hopeless at life—
Had saved all his tenderness for someone else.
Chapter 2
"Mommy!"
A kid's voice cut through our conversation.
I looked up—and froze.
The little girl looked just like Logan. She ran to Daisy, tugging her sleeve.
"When's Daddy coming home? I miss him."
I stared at Daisy—baby in her arms, daughter clinging to her side.
My hands clenched under the table. I forced a smile.
"Boy and a girl. You're really living the dream."
Logan and I never had kids.
I'd asked. Over and over.
Right after the wedding, he'd curl up next to me and whisper.
"We just got married. Let's enjoy life first. No rush."
When the CIA recruited me, I panicke and pushed harder.
He agreed so easily. But every time I was ovulating, he'd disappear.
"I'm exhausted, Stella. I'm working this hard so we can have a better life."
"We're at a crucial point in our careers. A baby would only hold us back."
Now, every time I brought up kids, he started preaching about being child-free.
I thought he genuinely didn't want kids.
Turns out, he just didn't need one with ME.
Daisy glanced at her phone.
"My husband never goes out. Never works late."
"Bad timing today. You'll have to wait a bit."
I froze again.
Logan's favorite excuse was always overtime.
Couldn't answer my calls? Overtime.
Couldn't visit? Overtime.
Even this New Year—overtime.
Three years ago, his mother was diagnosed with dementia. He said work was too demanding.
Ask me to pull strings, get her into the military hospital.
I was drowning.
And his mother had an episode—jumped into the lake at the hospital.
They called me at work. I begged Logan to handle it.
He said he was working late and told me to deal with it myself.
Daisy's words made my chest tighten.
She stood, bouncing the crying baby.
"He's hungry. We live nearby. If you don't mind, you can wait there."
I stood up too quickly, trying tto sound casual.
"Do you live with his parents?"
Daisy shook her head.
"His parents are both gone. Only my parents are around. He treats them like his own."
I dug my nails into my palms.
Wondered what his mother would think if she heard that.
Then I noticed the daughter's backpack.
"Military District Elementary School."
I stopped walking.
Daisy noticed and smiled. "That's my daughter's school."
"My husband's a military family survivor. Got her enrolled there."
I looked up sharply.
"Military family survivor?"
Daisy nodded.
"Yeah. His sister was a soldier. Died in service."
Then she spotted the patch on my jacket—CIA.
Her eyes lit up. "Oh! His sister worked there too."
"Stella Ashford. You know her? She died six years ago."
The world tilted. I couldn't breathe.
Of course I knew her.
I WAS Stella Ashford.
Daisy must've seen my face go white.
"You cold? Here—take this coat."
"I'm from the south, so Logan had this custom-made for me. Wanted to make sure I stayed warm."
Her smile felt like a branding iron.
I steadied myself, kept my voice even.
"Why would he send her sister somewhere that dangerous?"
"Oh, Logan's loaded. But money only gets you so far, right? You need connections."
"So he volunteered his sister for the program."
That was the final blow.
So Logan had deliberately sent me away.
Locked me in the CIA headquarters, cut off from the world for six years.
Even knowing I was my parents' only child, he sent me anyway.
My father died while I was gone. I never got to say goodbye.
Meanwhile, Logan used my "death" to get benefits for his mistress's kids.
And lived happily ever after.
My voice trembled despite my effort.
"Did you ever meet his sister?"
Chapter 3
Daisy shook her head.
"Logan said it hurt too much to keep reminders around."
"So he got rid of everything—even photos."
"What's your name, by the way?"
I hesitated. "Call me Stella."
Daisy smiled. "Funny. That was his sister's name too."
I looked away. Didn't respond.
Daisy kept talking the entire way.
"Lucky Logan had the foresight to send his sister into service."
"Now my kids get subsidies for everything—school, healthcare, you name it."
"When our son was born, we even got a bonus check."
No wonder he pushed the child-free agenda.
He just didn't want my kids competing with his bastards for benefits.
My throat burned. I forced out a question.
"When was your son born?"
"November 11th. Logan found a private hospital—full VIP treatment."
My head snapped up.
That was the day my father DIED.
The doctor said one more hour and they could've saved him.
But Logan—who promised to look after my parents—wouldn't answer his phone.
At the funeral, Logan cried, bowed over and over, apologizing.
I thought he felt guilty. I buried my doubts.
Turns out he was at the hospital that day, delivering someone else's baby.
The truth kept piling up, piece by piece.
Rage burned through me.
Daisy kept going.
"The age gap's a little rough—six years between them. They fight constantly."
"When you have kids, space them closer together."
So Logan was already with Daisy when we got married.
Daisy pointed ahead. "That's our place."
Not like our cramped apartment. This was a penthouse. Huge.
Fresh flowers on the table. Family photos on every wall. Every sharp corner carefully padded.
I forced a smile.
"Your place is beautiful."
"All Logan. He says a home should feel like a home."
Bitterness rose in my chest.
Logan never lifted a finger when we lived together.
Left clothes everywhere. Never took out the trash.
Anything broken? He waited for me to fix it.
Every visit home during leave turned into a full deep-cleaning day.
Looking back, I was almost laughable.
I cleaned. Earned money. Took care of his mother.
All while making it easy for him to cheat.
I swallowed the pain and kept my voice light.
"This place must've cost a fortune. Did you buy it?"
Daisy laughed. "Logan did."
"I got lucky. Came to the city, met him right away."
"He bought me the flower shop six years ago too."
Logan's family was broke. We got married in my parents' old house.
His salary was public record. Where did all this money come from?
Before I could ask, the door opened.
An older man walked in, eyes sweeping over me with open scrutiny.
"Who's this?"
Daisy introduced me enthusiastically.
"Dad, this is someone from the government."
The man's expression softened slightly.
"Logan's like a son to me. If the government values him, I'm proud. I'll cook dinner myself tonight."
A phone rang. Daisy answered on speaker.
Logan's voice filled the room.
"Babe, I'll be home late—probably after midnight."
"I know you've been exhausted with the baby. I'm bringing your favorite snacks."
"Sorry to keep you waiting so long."
