Chapter 1

Everyone in our social circle called me an empty threat.

During my five years of marriage, every single time I caught Wilbur Maxwell cheating, I'd lose my temper in a big way.

But in the end, I was always the one crawling back, desperately trying to patch up our damaged marriage.

Everything changed the day Wilbur brought his mistress home.

The woman asked in a flirty, soft voice, "Mr. Maxwell, aren't you worried your wife will freak out when she sees me?"

He ran a hand across his forehead and shrugged, "It's fine. She'll lose it for a bit, but she always gets over it by herself."

He said this as I walked in.

Hearing that, I quietly backed out, ducked into the stairwell, and shot him a text. [Wilbur, I'll be home in about ten minutes. Got off work early today.]

Five minutes later, I ran straight into a woman whose neck was covered in hickeys.

She looked a bit surprised when she saw me and immediately took a few steps back.

She was probably afraid I'd tear into her.

Honestly, that was exactly what I used to do.

But today, I didn't have the time or patience for that. An hour ago, I'd accepted a business card from a stranger at a bar.

I figured that maybe it was time to find out if cheating was really as exciting as everyone claimed.

*****

Worried that my home might still be a mess, I didn't use my key to open the door.

I knocked on the door three times.

After a moment, the door finally opened.

Wilbur stood there in his baggy pajamas, a trace of lipstick still on his lips.

I used to make a huge scene every time.

But now, I didn't have it in me anymore.

My fingers tightened around the business card from that good-looking guy at the bar, my mind drifting off.

If I cheated too, I wondered if I still had the right to call him out.

Wilbur saw me zoning out and tugged me inside, raising an eyebrow.

"Since when do you text me about getting off work? That's not like you," he said.

I scrambled for an excuse.

"I didn't bring my keys. Figured if you weren't home, I'd be stuck outside," I replied.

As soon as I stepped inside, I noticed a pair of lacy panties lying on the couch. It was definitely not mine.

I let my eyes drop, looked away, and acted like I hadn't seen a thing.

It was not surprising that Wilbur was cheating on me again.

We started dating back when we were students, but we broke up back then for this reason.

I loved him so much that I couldn't bear to let him go.

But I always thought he loved me too, so I held my head high like a proud swan, waiting for him to come coax me back.

But before he ever tried to win me back, the news of my family's bankruptcy hit me first.

My dad forced me into an arranged marriage. It was not with Wilbur.

I was terrified that this would be the end for us.

So, for the first time, I swallowed my pride.

He looked genuinely surprised to see me sobbing, clutching his hand like my life depended on it.

But Wilbur's heart ached for me as he wrapped me in his arms.

"Hey, Queenie, this is all on me. How could I ever make you cry like that? Once we graduate, we'll get married. I promise," he said.

Three months later, we graduated.

Finally, I married him.

I thought we'd finally gotten back to how things used to be.

But after that, it was like Wilbur had found the perfect way to keep me wrapped around his finger.

Cheating became another part of his routine. I'd go off the rails, acting like some crazy woman every single time.

After each blow-up, I'd bend over backwards to cover up the mess, pretending everything was fine.

I was the one clinging desperately to this marriage I'd fought so hard to keep.

But Wilbur kept himself out of it, watching me put on the same sad one-woman show, again and again.

I felt that maybe falling in love would make me stupid.

I hate him for cheating on me, but I was unable to walk away.

But the endless cycle was exhausting me. I wanted to find a way to ease the pain.

So I wondered if I cheated too, maybe it'd finally make things easier for me.

If we were both unfaithful, then I really shouldn't feel hurt about it anymore.

Wilbur headed into the bathroom.

The sound of water from the shower dragged me out of my thoughts.

I stared at the black panties on the couch for a couple seconds.

Using a tissue, I stuffed them under the cushion.

Just as I finished, the bathroom door opened.

I jolted, snapping upright.

Wilbur glanced at the couch, pretending not to notice anything.

I could feel a cold sweat breaking out on my back.

He was the one at fault, but for some reason, I still felt guilty.

I wondered if it was always this nerve-wracking the first time someone planned to cheat.

Before I could even process it, Wilbur shoved the hair dryer into my hands.

"Queenie, help me with my hair," he said.

With that, he plopped down on the couch.

I took the hair dryer and absent-mindedly started drying his wet head.

He must've sensed my lack of focus. He was clearly annoyed as he turned and took hold of my wrist.

He asked, "Queenie, what are you thinking about? You're totally spaced out."