Chapter 1 · Her Hidden Affair

It was 1:47 AM.

I had just finished running the code scheduled for testing the next day and was about to shut down my computer and go to bed when my phone suddenly lit up.

A message had arrived from an account saved as "Aidan, Emily's Intern"

I had added him last month after Emily told me she had taken on a new intern and asked me to keep his contact information "in case anything came up."

I hadn't thought much of it. After all, she was the marketing department lead, and having an intern was perfectly normal.

I opened the message.

It was a photo of my imported cashmere blanket spread across an unfamiliar bed.

Beneath it was a partially exposed arm, with nails painted in the exact dusty rose shade Emily always wore.

A voice message followed.

I tapped it, and Aidan Lawson's voice came through, deliberately lowered and carrying a hint of intimacy. "Bro, Emily isn't coming home tonight. She said your place is too boring. She's more comfortable here. Get some sleep."

I stared at the screen for five seconds.

There was no racing heartbeat, no burst of anger, and no desperate attempts to convince myself that it couldn't be true or that there had to be some misunderstanding.

My first thought was surprisingly simple.

That blanket cost 2,500 dollars.

And she actually took it to another man's place.

I set my phone down, walked to the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water. It was warm.

I drank it, washed the glass, dried my hands, and then picked up my phone again.

I opened the company-wide group chat.

There were three hundred and forty-two members.

I uploaded the screenshot, but after looking at it for a moment, I decided a picture alone wasn't enough to make things clear.

So I typed a message underneath: [Notice to all colleagues: Emily from the Marketing Department will be staying overnight at intern Aidan's residence tonight. If she is late to work tomorrow, please be understanding.]

Then I pressed Send.

*****

The group chat exploded with 99+ notifications.

I didn't bother checking.

I scrolled through my contacts and found Freddy Alexander's number.

At 2:03 AM, the phone rang four times before he picked up.

Freddy answered, sounding half-asleep, "Mason? Who died?"

"Nobody. I need a divorce agreement. Make it quick."

There was a two-second pause on the other end. "Wait divorce? You and Emily?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"She's crashing at her intern's place tonight."

Freddy went quiet for another three seconds.

"Come to my office at 10 AM tomorrow. Bring your ID, the deed, and your marriage certificate."

"Got it."

I hung up.

I walked into the living room, took Emily's coat off the coat rack, folded it neatly, and put it in a cardboard box.

I opened the shoe cabinet and placed her shoes inside, one pair at a time.

I moved quietly, since it was the middle of the night and I didn't want to disturb anyone.

My phone kept buzzing on the coffee table.

I shot it a look.

Ben had sent seventeen messages, the latest one reading: [Holy shit, bro, are you still alive? Is that screenshot for real?]

I replied with one word: [Yep.]

Ben replied instantly: [Should I bring beer or a knife?]

[Bring some boxes. Help me move out tomorrow morning.]

[Alright, got it.]

I kept packing.

The group photos in the living room, the magnets on the fridge, her makeup in the bathroom.

One by one, I organized it all.

By 3:30 AM, I had packed everything into four boxes.

The first box was for clothes.

The second was for makeup and skincare.

The third was for miscellaneous items.

For the fourth, I paused, then grabbed a marker and wrote "Evidence Box" on the outside.

Inside, I put our marriage certificate, screenshots of her so-called "work chats" with Aidan, and a printed copy of that photo.

Yeah, I printed it, color, high-res.

You gotta do things with style.

After I finished packing, I checked the time.

It was 3:40 AM.

I took a shower, got into bed, and set my alarm for 7 AM.

Before I closed my eyes, I checked my phone one last time.

The company group chat was blowing up with over 999 messages.

Emily had called me twelve times and sent over thirty messages.

The latest one read: [Mason, are you out of your mind? Do you even know what you're doing?]

I knew.

I was getting a divorce.

I powered off my phone.

Then I went to sleep.

At 7 AM, my alarm went off.

The first thing I did after waking up wasn't check my phone—it was frying an egg.

Fried it sunny-side up, just a bit crispy, and sprinkled some salt on top.

Paired it with a cup of black coffee.

By the time I finished breakfast and did the dishes, it was 7:35.

That was when I finally turned on my phone.

My notifications were blowing up.

I didn't even bother checking the company group chat, just opened Ben's messages instead.

Ben had spammed me with voice messages. I just picked the last one and hit play.

Chapter 1

It was 1:47 AM.

I had just finished running the code scheduled for testing the next day and was about to shut down my computer and go to bed when my phone suddenly lit up.

A message had arrived from an account saved as "Aidan, Emily's Intern"

I had added him last month after Emily told me she had taken on a new intern and asked me to keep his contact information "in case anything came up."

I hadn't thought much of it. After all, she was the marketing department lead, and having an intern was perfectly normal.

I opened the message.

It was a photo of my imported cashmere blanket spread across an unfamiliar bed.

Beneath it was a partially exposed arm, with nails painted in the exact dusty rose shade Emily always wore.

A voice message followed.

I stared at the screen for five seconds.

There was no racing heartbeat, no burst of anger, and no desperate attempts to convince myself that it couldn't be true or that there had to be some misunderstanding.

My first thought was surprisingly simple.

That blanket cost 2,500 dollars.

And she actually took it to another man's place.

I set my phone down, walked to the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water. It was warm.

I drank it, washed the glass, dried my hands, and then picked up my phone again.

I opened the company-wide group chat.

There were three hundred and forty-two members.

I uploaded the screenshot, but after looking at it for a moment, I decided a picture alone wasn't enough to make things clear.

Then I pressed Send.

*****

The group chat exploded with 99+ notifications.

I didn't bother checking.

I scrolled through my contacts and found Freddy Alexander's number.

At 2:03 AM, the phone rang four times before he picked up.

Freddy answered, sounding half-asleep, "Mason? Who died?"

"Nobody. I need a divorce agreement. Make it quick."

There was a two-second pause on the other end. "Wait divorce? You and Emily?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"She's crashing at her intern's place tonight."

Freddy went quiet for another three seconds.

"Come to my office at 10 AM tomorrow. Bring your ID, the deed, and your marriage certificate."

"Got it."

I hung up.

I walked into the living room, took Emily's coat off the coat rack, folded it neatly, and put it in a cardboard box.

I opened the shoe cabinet and placed her shoes inside, one pair at a time.

I moved quietly, since it was the middle of the night and I didn't want to disturb anyone.

My phone kept buzzing on the coffee table.

I shot it a look.

Ben had sent seventeen messages, the latest one reading: [Holy shit, bro, are you still alive? Is that screenshot for real?]

I replied with one word: [Yep.]

Ben replied instantly: [Should I bring beer or a knife?]

[Bring some boxes. Help me move out tomorrow morning.]

[Alright, got it.]

I kept packing.

The group photos in the living room, the magnets on the fridge, her makeup in the bathroom.

One by one, I organized it all.

By 3:30 AM, I had packed everything into four boxes.

The first box was for clothes.

The second was for makeup and skincare.

The third was for miscellaneous items.

For the fourth, I paused, then grabbed a marker and wrote "Evidence Box" on the outside.

Inside, I put our marriage certificate, screenshots of her so-called "work chats" with Aidan, and a printed copy of that photo.

Yeah, I printed it, color, high-res.

You gotta do things with style.

After I finished packing, I checked the time.

It was 3:40 AM.

I took a shower, got into bed, and set my alarm for 7 AM.

Before I closed my eyes, I checked my phone one last time.

The company group chat was blowing up with over 999 messages.

Emily had called me twelve times and sent over thirty messages.

The latest one read: [Mason, are you out of your mind? Do you even know what you're doing?]

I knew.

I was getting a divorce.

I powered off my phone.

Then I went to sleep.

At 7 AM, my alarm went off.

The first thing I did after waking up wasn't check my phone—it was frying an egg.

Fried it sunny-side up, just a bit crispy, and sprinkled some salt on top.

Paired it with a cup of black coffee.

By the time I finished breakfast and did the dishes, it was 7:35.

That was when I finally turned on my phone.

My notifications were blowing up.

I didn't even bother checking the company group chat, just opened Ben's messages instead.

Ben had spammed me with voice messages. I just picked the last one and hit play.