Chapter 1

My husband, Charles Sinclair, and my best friend, Sophia Evans, had been together for six years, right under my nose.

I'd been searching everywhere for a doctor who could fix Charles' bedroom problems.

That day, I finally heard about an expert who had just returned from overseas, and I rushed to the hospital without a second thought.

Before I even reached the office, I overheard a conversation at the door.

"Mr. Sinclair, I barely got back to the country and you're already here," the doctor said. "Sounds like the rumors are true—you really haven't slept with your wife in six years."

I was secretly relieved. At least Charles was finally facing the problem and seeing a doctor.

Then I heard his cruel words. "Get lost. When I was with Sophia, I had no problems at all," he said. "I just can't stand my wife. Every time I think about the way she looked giving birth, it makes me sick. Besides, I promised Sophia I'd never touch her."

The doctor sounded confused. "Then why are you here?"

"Sophia's getting married. I'm letting her go. I couldn't keep her on the side forever," Charles said calmly. "I want my wife to welcome me home happily, so when she shows up, just tell her I was doing better."

His words sent a chill from my head to my toes.

So he had never been sick at all. And the Sophia he kept talking about was the same Sophia I had known for ten years—my closest friend.

That left only one question. Why should I keep a man who had cheated on me for six years?

*****

"Just keep her happy for a bit. That way, sleeping with her will seem perfectly natural, and it'll solve her second-baby problem too," Charles said. His voice was flat, but every word cut like a blade.

I stood there, frozen.

So he had known everything all along. He knew that for six years his mother had pressured me to have another child. He knew I had carried the weight of his family's expectations alone just to protect his pride.

I clenched the appointment slip until it crumpled, feeling like a complete fool.

Then my phone rang. It was Charles. "Hey, honey, where are you? I'm already here."

This was the first time in six years that Charles had agreed to see a doctor. I had thought he'd finally come around, that he was ready to face the problem. I never imagined this, too, was part of his plan.

I was about to make an excuse and say I wasn't coming when a nurse nearby spoke up, cutting me off.

Hearing the noise, Charles pushed open the door and dragged me straight into the consultation room. "Honey, great news!" he said excitedly, shoving me toward the doctor's desk.

The doctor glanced at me. He cleared his throat and said, "I've reviewed the previous test results and just examined him again. His condition has improved a lot. You can start trying for a baby."

Before I could react, Charles pulled me into his arms, pretending to be thrilled. "Did you hear that? The doctor said I'm better. We can have a second child now." As he spoke, the silver cross on his chest slipped into view.

Six years ago, when I found out he was ill, I had walked for hours in the pouring rain to a hilltop church, stopping again and again to pray. By the time I reached the chapel, my knees were bleeding and my palms were raw. I begged the priest to bless that cross for him.

When I came home soaked and exhausted, Charles' eyes had turned red the moment he saw me. He pulled me into his arms, his voice shaking. "Olivia, are you crazy? Who asked you to put yourself through this?"

I smiled and fastened the cross around his neck. "The priest said it would keep you safe."

He lowered his head and kissed me. "I'll get better. I promise."

And he did get better. Just not for me. My heart clenched so hard it felt like it might tear apart.

I wrenched myself free from his arms. He looked at me, puzzled.

"Aren't you tired?" I asked. After faking it for so long?

But I didn't let him hear the second part of my thought.

A familiar ringtone sounded—it was the one he'd set just for me and Sophia. I was standing right in front of him; it didn't take Sherlock to guess who was on the other end.

The instant the phone rang, he quickly hit mute and offered a clumsy excuse. "Work called. I need to take this."

He stepped as far away from me as he could and answered. I couldn't hear their words, but I could see the excitement on his face.

Moments later, he hung up and hurried back. "Something came up at the office. I have to go. You'll have to get home on your own later."

He even pressed a kiss to my forehead as if the scene needed embellishing. His departure was so rushed that he forgot the keys on the desk.

The doctor shot me a sympathetic look as I grabbed them and rushed after him.