Chapter 1

On Valentine's Day, Best Actor Matthew Carter took his son to celebrate his first crush's birthday.

The paparazzi caught the three of them looking like a picture-perfect family.

The whole internet praised Matthew and his first love, while I, his wife, was branded the mistress.

That night, I threw down a divorce agreement and boarded a private jet.

Just when everyone believed Matthew and his first crush had finally gotten their happily-ever-after, Matthew showed up with his son, crying and begging me to give them one more chance.

*****

It was exactly one in the morning, barely an hour after Valentine's Day ended.

I sat alone in the empty living room, waiting for Matthew Carter and our son, Blake Carter, to come home.

I had already called Matthew seven or eight times. He never picked up. Then he switched his phone off completely, and I couldn't reach him at all.

Blake's kids' smartwatch, however, went through. His impatient little voice came over the line. "Mom, Dad and I are at Mr. Moore's birthday party. Stop bothering us, okay?"

Before I could answer, Blake hung up.

My phone screen froze on a trending post at the top of the hot search.

The photo showed the rooftop garden of a five-star restaurant. Matthew and Blake sat right beside Sophie Moore.

Sophie had her head bowed, making a wish, her face glowing with happiness. Blake leaned close to her, and Matthew gazed at Sophie with that indulgent smile of his.

If I hadn't been married to Matthew for seven years, I might have believed they were the real family.

The comments section was exploding.

One camp praised the Best Actor Matthew Carter and rising starlet Sophie Moore for their beautiful romance. The other side ripped me apart, calling me the home-wrecking mistress.

Bored, I scrolled through the posts one by one.

[Mr. Carter and Sophie are perfect together. I'm about to faint from how sweet this is. So jealous.]

[That must be Mr. Carter's son. He's so good-looking, obviously got the best of both parents' genes.]

[Sophie's living the female-lead dream. She worked hard, earned her place, and now she's won over Mr. Carter, too. Plus, they've got the cutest son ever.]

Someone argued back: [It's already been clarified. Mr. Carter didn't marry Sophie. He married his agent. Look at the picture I posted.]

The picture was an old photo that had been shared countless times. My face was blurred into a mosaic.

It was on my wedding day with Matthew. He had snapped a candid shot of me in my wedding gown and posted it on Twitter as our official announcement.

The caption was short and blunt: [I'm married.]

Now, that ancient tweet had resurfaced. A snarky user joked: [Mr. Carter, were you blackmailed by your agent? If yes, just drop a yes under my comment.]

Fans rooting for Matthew and Sophie went wild: [Obviously, that woman forced him into marriage. She's not even one percent as pretty as Sophie. We'll always support Matthew and Sophie.]

Others chimed in: [But Mr. Carter did marry his agent, and they have a son together. Isn't Sophie the one intruding on their marriage?]

That comment briefly stirred up a heated debate, but soon the tide turned completely one-sided.

Then Matthew tweeted a statement: [There was once a fleeting light in my dark world. It wasn't enough to brighten everything, but it guided me all the same. And now, I can finally hold onto that light for good.]

The internet erupted.

There was no need to guess who that light referred to.

Fans rallied behind Sophie, accusing me of being the real mistress between Matthew and his first love.

I was the only one who laughed coldly. Those were the exact words Matthew had used when he proposed to me, copied word for word.

Whatever little affection I still had for him vanished completely.

I pulled out the divorce papers I'd already drafted and placed them in the most obvious spot in the living room.

Even if Matthew didn't come home, it didn't matter. I had already sent him a digital copy.

Ten minutes later, I drove to my private jet.

Before boarding, I hesitated. Blake was innocent. So I called him one last time.

He sounded cheerful, laughter spilling through the phone.

But as soon as he heard my voice, the laughter stopped. "Mom, I told you I'm busy. If you call again, I'll block you."

I said, "You can't eat too much cake tonight, or you'll get a stomachache. And remember, you're allergic to peanuts. Don't touch anything with peanuts in it.

"If you do by mistake, take your allergy meds. They're in the kitchen cabinet on the left, second shelf—"

I rambled on, listing everything. Blake had never spent a day apart from me since the day he was born. I was terrified he wouldn't adapt once I was gone.

But Blake shut me down with a brutal blow. "You're so annoying, always nagging. I like Mr. Moore better. I wish Mr. Moore were my mom."

He hung up again.

My good intentions were worthless. I regretted ever worrying about Matthew and Blake.

I switched off my phone, boarded the private jet, and flew to the little island my parents had bought for me.