Chapter 1
After slapping his mistress's prenatal checkup report onto my face, Juan still showed up at my birthday party.
I smashed the cake in a breakdown, spewing the most vicious words I had ever said in my life.
"Get the hell out of here. Don't dirty my place."
"You and that mistress of yours better die on the delivery bed. Both of you, one corpse, two lives."
"Bitch! Shameless couple! May you both die a horrible death!"
Only those closest to me knew exactly where to stab so it hurt the most.
Juan, who had been watching me lose my mind with cold eyes the whole time, finally crushed the cigarette between his fingers and smiled when he heard that last sentence.
He said, "Yeah, you're the noblest of them all."
"I wonder who was the one who stripped naked at eighteen and climbed into my bed. And later, with a swollen belly, went to my school, begging me not to break up."
What was once the most passionate offering of love had now become the most degrading evidence.
Now, that humiliating memory was being used by the man I had loved for ten years, right in front of all the guests, to accuse me of throwing myself at him, of being cheap.
All just to protect the pitiful "first love" by his side.
*****
The crash of the champagne tower was like a gunshot, signaling the end of everything.
The birthday party I'd painstakingly thrown for my twenty-eighth just became a circus the second those curses left my lips.
The guests' stares shifted from pity, to shock, and finally to pure disgust.
My husband, Juan Wiggins, the man I'd loved for ten years from when I was eighteen to twenty-eight, was standing right across from me.
His suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his tall, upright figure. But there was a chill and contempt on his handsome face that I'd never seen before.
Standing beside him was Chana Hill, his precious first love who'd just come back from overseas.
Chana wore a flowing white dress, clinging softly to Juan as if my curses had truly frightened her. Her eyes were red, making her look heartbreakingly fragile.
One corpse and two lives... How could I say such a thing?
But when he tossed her pregnancy test onto my nightstand, did he ever care about how shattered I'd be?
My hands trembled, not from anger, but from utter heartbreak.
That line, "I wonder who was the one who stripped naked at eighteen and climbed into my bed", felt like a poisoned ice blade, cutting deep into my heart and twisting the knife.
Those were the secrets only we shared.
I always thought it was the most precious thing, something just for us, the wild proof of how crazy we were for each other back then.
That year, when his family went broke and debt collectors were knocking on the door, I spent every dollar of my scholarship and living money to stick with him in a freezing, tiny apartment barely bigger than a shoebox.
That night, he held me close and whispered, "Kaia, when I finally make it, I'll give you the best the world has to offer."
I believed him.
For that promise, I gave up my guaranteed spot for postgraduate studies and stood by him to launch our business.
We pulled an all-nighter together, side by side, hammering out the very first line of code for our company.
I drank myself nearly into the hospital, ended up with a bleeding stomach, just to seal the deal with our very first client.
Ten years.
I stood by him as he went from a penniless nobody to the tech CEO worth tens of millions.
And me? I became the wife he kept out of sight, never good enough for the spotlight.
"Kaia."
Juan spoke again, his voice icy and completely devoid of emotion.
"Are you done making a scene?"
"Apologize to Chana."
I jerked my head up, staring at him in disbelief.
Apologize?
He wanted me to apologize to the other woman who was pregnant with my husband's baby?
This was just absurd.
Chana tugged at Juan's sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "Juan, let it go. Kaia didn't mean it. She just... loves you too much."
Yeah, "loves you too much." Right.
With just a few words, she dumped all the blame on me.
Like my meltdown, my hysteria, was just me being jealous and dramatic.
The whispers around me were just loud enough for me to hear every word.
"I always heard his wife was totally clueless about the real world. Seeing her today, wow, she's really gone crazy."
"Juan is a big boss now. Does she still think this is some childish game? She's not even in his league anymore."
"Look at Miss Hill. She's a true socialite, educated and elegant. She and Juan make such a perfect pair."
Those whispers felt like countless tiny needles, stabbing into my skin.
I looked at Juan, saw how he defended Chana, and how impatient he was with me.
Ten years of love was nothing but an illusion.
I laughed.
Tears streaked down my face, but my smile was twisted, almost haunting.
The trembling faded from my hands. I spoke, slow and steady, every word sharp as a blade.
"Juan. You're absolutely right. I was pathetic back then."
Juan looked stunned, his brows furrowing hard, clearly not expecting me to admit it.