Chapter 1My phone was barely back in my pocket when it buzzed again.
Marcus.
I picked up on the third ring.
"Hey." He sounded weirdly casual. "So — did the flowers show up?"
"They did," I said. "Funny thing though. The card had "I love you Sophie." Not exactly what you want on your wife's anniversary bouquet."
Silence.
"Okay, so — the florist completely screwed that up. I had Sophie handle the order because I was buried in contracts all day, and she must've told them the wrong name." He let out a short laugh. "I'm so sorry, babe. I'll call them first thing tomorrow."
A week ago I probably would've let it go. Laughed it off, said whatever, it's fine.
But I'd just spent the last fifteen minutes staring at a post Sophie had already deleted — except I'd already seen it. Some men actually know how to make a woman feel special. Her words. His hands in one of the photos. Our anniversary date in the timestamp.
So I didn't say anything.
"Lily? You still there?"
"Yeah." I kept my voice even. "It's getting late and I'm not feeling great. I'm gonna head to bed."
"Wait, I can leave right now —"
I hung up.
I grabbed my laptop, dropped onto the couch, and got to work.
Joint accounts. The apartment. What was mine before the marriage, what we'd built together. My business I'd started two years before we even met — that part was clean. The rest was messier, but nothing I couldn't handle.
I got so into it that I completely missed the sound of the front door.
"Hey, you're still up."
Marcus was in the doorway, still in his coat, holding a fresh bouquet. White roses, expensive-looking. He had that soft smile going, the one that used to actually work on me.
"I know your body's been rough on you this week," he said, setting the flowers down and sitting on the coffee table right across from me. "I totally spaced on what time of the month it was. That's my fault."
He started rubbing my shoulder, going on about booking me a massage appointment at some place downtown.
Three years. He'd had my cycle memorized since like month four. He used to watch tutorial videos on how to help with cramps — I found this really good technique, the instructor was amazing, I just wanted to get it right for you.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
He's so thoughtful. Always knows exactly what I need before I even ask. Honestly the best hands —
Three photos attached. Weird angles, no faces. Just his hands. His wedding ring catching the light — the same ring sitting on his finger right now.
Sophie couldn't post it publicly anymore, so she went for my inbox instead.
"— Lily." Marcus's voice went flat. "I'm literally right here."
I looked up.
"I drove home early," he said, the nice-guy act slipping just a little. "I got you new flowers. It's our anniversary. What's it going to take?"
"I'm not upset," I said. "Just thinking about a work thing."
He squinted at me. "For real?"
"For real."
Not even a lie, technically. The document on my laptop was absolutely work-related.
I watched him relax. He actually believed me — he always did when I kept my voice steady. He'd told me once I was the easiest person he'd ever been with. No drama. He meant it as a compliment.
He set the new bouquet on the table. His eyes landed on the other one — Sophie's name still on the card — and he went quiet for a second.
"I'll deal with the florist tomorrow," he muttered, reaching for it.
His phone went off before he could touch it.
He glanced at the screen and was on his feet in two seconds, already heading for the hallway.
I didn't try to look. I just caught it anyway.
Soph.
His voice dropped to almost a whisper as he turned the corner.
I'd checked my own contact in his phone once, a few months back. Lily Carter. Full name. No nickname. Nothing.
I opened the laptop and kept going.
Chapter 2
The call ended fast.
Marcus stood there looking at me like he was waiting for me to blow up. "Hey, uh — something just came up at work. I might have to—"
"Go ahead," I said.
He blinked. Clearly not the reaction he was expecting. "No — no, forget it. Tonight matters more. I'm staying."
He sat back down.
His phone started buzzing four minutes later.
I counted seven calls before he finally caved.
"Okay, this is actually serious." He was already on his feet. "I have to go. I'm sorry, babe."
He grabbed the bouquet — the one with Sophie's name on the card — and muttered something about tossing it on his way out.
I watched the door close behind him.
Work. Same excuse. Three years running.
My eyes stung. I gave myself about thirty seconds, then I picked up my phone and called my lawyer.
It was past midnight when he called back.
"Just finished up." Warm, casual, like it was a totally normal night. "Heading home now. You want those shrimp tacos? From the place on Fifth?"
God. He always remembered exactly what I liked.
"I'm good," I said. "Not feeling it anymore."
"You literally texted me about them yesterday. Already ordered. Be home soon."
He hung up before I could say anything.
I looked down at my phone. New notification. Unknown number.
Photo. Marcus in some kitchen. Our anniversary bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. Sophie right next to him. Plate of shrimp tacos in the shot, half eaten.
This man got me flowers AND late-night tacos. Someone stop him lol. Guess I'm hitting the gym at midnight to burn this off.
I stared at it.
He'd been running the exact same routine on both of us. Every single thing I thought was just for me — she was getting it too. And from what I could tell, she always came first.
I bit my cheek hard.
Marcus walked in with the tacos, saw me on the couch, and immediately grabbed my hands.
"You're freezing." He actually looked worried. "Why's the window open? You're gonna get sick." He was already moving — shutting the window, dropping the food on the table, heading to the kitchen. "I'll make you ginger tea. The real kind, not the packet stuff."
Then the doorbell rang.
He went to answer it. I heard low voices.
He came back — and Sophie walked in right behind him.
She had a little bag in her hand. Ginger, probably. Long blonde hair, pretty face, completely relaxed standing in my apartment at midnight like she'd been here a hundred times.
She looked at me and smiled.
"Marcus is seriously the sweetest, making you tea this late." She tilted her head just slightly. "You're so lucky. I want a husband like that someday."
I looked at her.
She looked back at me, still smiling.
First time we'd ever been in the same room. I'd heard her name for months. Seen his ring in her photos.
And now here she was. In my living room. Saying that to my face.
"Stay then," I said. "Have some tea with us."
Chapter 3
Sophie sat down without even being asked, made herself right at home across from me.
Marcus came back with the tea. He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, smoothed my hair out of my face.
Sophie tilted her head, all pouty. "You're so lucky, Lily. He's always taking care of you."
Marcus didn't even look at her — just picked up a taco and stuck it straight in her mouth. "Less talking, more eating."
Completely relaxed. Zero awkwardness.
Sophie chewed, eyes going wide. "Wait — this is exactly what I always get!"
I looked at her.
Marcus moved slightly, blocking my view, and held one out toward me. "Eat something, babe."
I took a bite. Felt it instantly — the tingle spreading across my tongue.
Bell pepper.
I spit it into a napkin and dropped the rest in the trash.
Marcus frowned. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing. I just can't eat it." I met his eyes. "Bell pepper allergy. Ring any bells?"
He went quiet.
I walked to the bedroom without waiting.
Sophie left — I could hear Marcus keeping his voice down out there, ushering her out.
He came in and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm really sorry. I have no idea how that slipped my mind."
I didn't respond.
Three years. He'd literally driven me to urgent care the night of his company dinner when my face swelled up. He'd retold that story himself. I've never been that scared in my life. His words.
Now he'd forgotten. Because he wasn't paying attention to me. Not anymore.
"It's fine," I said.
"Lily—"
"It's fine." I closed my eyes. "Go to sleep."
Honestly? I wasn't even that surprised. Our whole relationship had basically been arranged by our parents — childhood friends, tangled family histories, everyone thrilled when we finally got together. Marcus came back from overseas, showed up looking great, and I was tired and lonely and said yes.
Cheating wasn't a shock.
Still wasn't something I was going to let go.
He kept apologizing into my shoulder until he ran out of words. I just lay there, eyes shut.
I woke up to a full spread on the table.
Everything I liked. Every single thing.
I sat down, picked up a fork, took one bite.
Set it down.
