Chapter 1"Gardenia..." He breathed her name. Into my ear. While we were having sex.
Wrong Gardenia, asshole.
I'm Gardenia Stone—his wife of ten years.
The one he called was his mistress, Gardenia Grant.
When I caught him cheating, he got on his knees and swore,
"If I do it again, I'll sign everything over. Walk away with nothing."
I believed him. Forgave him.
Then he went right back to her.
Slashed me open to get blood for her surgery.
Crawled into her bed the same night I was still bleeding in the hospital.
This time I didn't cry.
I pulled out the divorce papers. And the promise he'd written in his own handwriting.
"Lucas. You said it yourself. You walk away with nothing."
The house. The cars. His company shares. All mine.
Now he LOST IT.
...
My husband was on top of me, moving inside me, when he breathed out a name: "Gardenia..."
I was close—so close—and then I wasn't. I went ice-cold.
My voice came out shaky. "Which Gardenia did you just say?"
Because my name is Gardenia. So is his mistress's.
Three months ago, I walked in on Lucas Adler deep inside his secretary.
Gardenia Grant had been sprawled across the leather couch in a crimson dress, skin flushed and glowing.
He'd been moving inside her desperately, gasping her name—"Gardenia"—over and over, like it was the only word he knew.
The Lucas from that night and the Lucas on top of me right now?
Same face. Same voice. Same lie.
Nausea hit me fast.
I shoved him off hard. Stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before my body started heaving.
Lucas appeared in the doorway, sounding worried.
"Gardenia, what's wrong? Are you sick? Talk to me—"
I turned around slowly, eyes burning, vision blurred.
When I spoke, my voice was quiet. Too quiet.
"Lucas Adler. When you said 'Gardenia' just now… in our bed… were you thinking of me—Gardenia Stone—or her—Gardenia Grant?"
The color drained from his face in an instant.
Then, in one violent motion, he kicked the nightstand. It crashed to the floor, wood splintering.
His voice came out raw, somewhere between rage and utter exhaustion.
"Gardenia, how many times do I have to say it? I love YOU. I can't let YOU go. I chose YOU."
"You already won. I came back. I'm here. So what the hell else do you want from me? What do I have to do for you to just—just let this go?"
After that, he grabbed his shirt off the floor, yanked it on, and stormed out of the room.
The cold air rushed in behind him, cutting through my skin.
I stood there, shivering.
I walked to the window and looked down.
He was already outside, climbing into his car. The engine didn't start. He just sat there in the driver's seat, motionless in the dark.
Then a ringtone pierced the silence—one I knew too well. The custom tone he'd set for her.
Gardenia Grant was calling.
I thought back to that day—the day he promised to come back to me.
The day he deleted and blocked her number right in front of me.
So when, exactly, did he save her contact again?
I silently opened the dashcam app on my phone.
Inside the car, Lucas sat staring at the name lighting up his screen. His grip on the steering wheel tightened—knuckles going bone-white.
Right before it went to voicemail, he picked up.
"Yeah."
Nothing on the other end. Just soft crying echoing through the car.
Then, after what felt like forever, her voice came through—trembling, needy:
"I miss you so much..."
Lucas's breathing turned rough.
The next second, the car tore off into the night.
The wind howled outside, but I felt nothing. Just cold.
I caught my reflection in the window. Tears were streaming down my face.
The car pulled up outside Gardenia Grant's building soon after.
And then—wet kisses. Desperate breathing. Over and over. Like they couldn't get enough of each other.
I stood at that window and listened all night long—to my husband fucking another woman.
By the time the sun came up, I could finally move again.
I pulled the divorce papers from the bottom of the safe.
These were the papers I'd made him sign the day he swore he'd come back.
If he cheated again, he'd leave with nothing.
But no contract could hold a man whose heart was already gone.
I signed my name slowly, deliberately. Then I took the papers straight to my lawyer.
After looking them over, she glanced up.
"Ms. Stone, after the 30-day waiting period, you'll be officially divorced."
When I got home, legs barely holding me up, Lucas was already waiting.
The second he saw me, relief flashed across his face. But his voice came out sharp.
"Where the hell were you? Why didn't you answer your phone?"
I let out a cold laugh. "What, worried I jumped off a bridge again?"
His face went hard.
He didn't even try to hide his irritation. "Gardenia, stop using suicide to guilt-trip me. Is that seriously all you know how to do?"
I froze. Stared at him.
When I first found out about the affair, I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them—and I'd throw up.
In one week, I lost fifteen pounds.
Back then, I screamed at him. Called him every name in the book. Slapped him until my hand went numb. Broke three of his ribs when I threw a lamp at him.
He got on his knees. Apologized. Begged me to forgive him.
But I couldn't forgive myself.
After two straight weeks without sleep, I wasn't in my right mind. I lost my balance near the pier and fell into the ocean.
They pulled me out. Barely. Five days in the ICU.
And after that, he stayed. Never left my side. Let me hit him. Scream at him. Took it all.
Turned out he just thought I was desperate for his attention.
Lucas looked at my pale face. Something flickered in his expression.
He turned away fast, grabbing a takeout box off the table.
"Your favorite. Strawberry pudding. I went out of my way to get it. Eat."
I stared at the box. Bitterness rose in my throat.
I'd already heard it on the dashcam—after they were done, she snuggled up against him, voice dripping with sweetness, saying she was hungry.
So he drove out and bought her chocolate cake.
The pudding was just a freebie.
Lucas noticed I wasn't reaching for it. His jaw tightened. "What now?"
I shook my head. "I don't like that flavor anymore."
I'd been sick of it for years. I just never said anything.
I turned toward the stairs.
He grabbed my arm.
His voice came out clipped, impatient. "Gardenia, how long are you gonna keep this up? You—"
Before he could finish, I blacked out.
Chapter 2
When I woke up, I was back in bed.
Voices drifted up from downstairs.
I sat up slowly and made my way to the stairs.
I stood in the doorway and watched. They hadn't noticed me yet.
Lucas sounded caught off guard. "What are you doing here?"
Gardenia Grant stood there in a white dress, looking up at him like a kicked puppy.
"You won't answer my calls. You won't text me back.
"Are you done with me again? Did you change your mind?
"Lucas, I miss you so much... Please don't ignore me like this."
Lucas frowned. "You need to go. Gardenia's sick. I don't need her getting upset. If you need to talk, we can—"
Before he could finish, she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Lucas's hands came up, like he was gonna push her away.
But she wrapped her arms around his neck.
His hands froze.
And then, slowly, he stopped fighting it. Started kissing her back.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard.
Grant stared straight at him. "Lucas, stop pretending. You can't let me go either.
"You don't love her anymore. Staying with her out of guilt—it's destroying all three of us."
Lucas's voice came out rough, barely controlled. "I can't..."
I threw the door open.
They both spun around.
Lucas went pale. "Gardenia—"
I walked right past him, grabbed Grant by the hair, and yanked her head back hard.
Then I slapped her across the face.
"You bitch. You've got some nerve showing up here!"
I didn't stop. I kept going—ten, fifteen slaps—until the only sounds in that hallway were the crack of each slap and her screaming.
"Enough!" Lucas roared.
Next thing I knew, I hit the floor. Hard. My head slammed into the wall.
Something warm ran down my face. Blood.
I watched Lucas rush over to Grant. He scooped her up gently and bolted for the door.
"It's okay. I'm taking you to the hospital."
I watched them disappear.
My mind went back to when I was eighteen. First snow of the year.
Lucas had written in the snow with his boot: Lucas Adler loves Gardenia Stone.
I'd laughed. "For how long?"
He'd cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Lucas Adler will love Gardenia Stone forever! Forever!"
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold floor.
Tears and blood running down my face.
I smiled. Whispered, "Lucas Adler, you're such a fucking liar."
Chapter 3
When I woke up again, I was in the hospital.
A crowd had gathered outside the room next door, staring and gossiping.
Inside, Lucas's mother was furious, her face red.
"I knew it when Gardenia passed out alone at the front door—and you were nowhere! You were here with this goddamn homewrecker!"
She spun toward her bodyguards. "What are you waiting for?! If she wants to act like a whore, we'll treat her like one! She loves playing mistress, stealing married men? Fine—rip her clothes off!"
The bodyguards stepped forward.
But the second they got close, Lucas sent one flying with a kick.
"Mom! I don't care—nobody touches her!"
His mother was so furious she grabbed her designer purse and swung it at him. Hard. Again and again. The metal buckle cut his forehead open. Blood ran down his face.
Then Grant, who'd been standing behind Lucas, suddenly threw herself forward.
She dropped to her knees in front of his mother and started kowtowing—bowing her head to the floor over and over.
"Stop! Please, Mrs. Adler, I'm begging you—don't hit him anymore! This is all my fault. Hit me. Please. Just leave him alone."
Lucas, who hadn't even flinched when his own mother was beating him bloody, went pale.
He dropped down next to her, grabbing her shoulders.
"What are you doing? Stop—get up—"
They clung to each other like tragic lovers in some soap opera.
Through the crowd, Lucas's eyes found mine.
He froze. His hands fell away from her. "Gardenia... what are you—"
I didn't say anything.
I walked through the crowd, took his mother gently by the arm, and pulled her hand down.
"Just stop."
Two words. Flat. Empty. Done.
At my words, Lucas flinched.
I led his mother back to my room.
Lucas followed us. His voice was rough, like he was making some huge sacrifice.
"Gardenia, this is on me. I screwed up. I lost control.
"I'll end it with her. I swear. I'll make this up to you. Just—just stop going after her like this, okay?"
I just looked at him.
Going after her?
Like I was the villain. Like I was the one breaking up true love.
Before I could respond, a scream tore through the hallway.
"Oh my God—someone call a doctor! She slit her wrists!"
Lucas went white. He ran for the door.
His mother stepped in front of him. "Lucas Adler, don't you dare—"
He shoved right past her. Shoved right past me—and I went down hard.
Then he was gone.
His mother knelt down beside me. She was crying too. "Gardenia..."
I looked up at her.
"Mrs. Adler... I'm filing for divorce."
