Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, James Carter returned from a business trip in the South, carrying an exquisite paper box. He handed it to me, saying it was a gift.

I was thrilled, thinking it was the imported strawberry cake I'd been craving for ages.

But the smile froze on my face, fading inch by inch the moment I lifted the lid.

Inside the box lay a bright red silk camisole dress. It was as thin as gossamer, light enough to slip through my fingers, its color so vivid it burned my eyes.

The style was bold and provocative, one that made even my cheeks flush just looking at it, especially with a three-month-old baby growing in my belly.

He must have forgotten I couldn't wear something so revealing. Or maybe, he'd never even intended it for me in the first place.

*****

"James, you're back!" I called out.

Keys turning in the lock sent me scrambling off the couch, my slightly rounded belly protruding as I hurried to greet him.

James stepped in, dusty and weary, his tall frame carrying the humid warmth of the southern states. He set a large suitcase and a briefcase on the floor, his face lined with exhaustion.

But when his eyes fell on me, those sharp, shrewd eyes softened, crinkling at the corners with faint affection.

"Emily, did you wait long?" He pulled me into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, his voice as warm as usual. "I told you to go to bed early. Why are you still up?"

Leaning against his broad chest, I caught a whiff of faint tobacco mixed with an unfamiliar scent, nothing like his usual cologne.

A faint twinge of doubt crept in as I looked up to help him slip off his dark jacket, hanging it on the coat hook by the door.

"This is the first time you've traveled that far for work. I couldn't stop worrying. How'd it go?" I asked.

James grinned, showing off his white teeth, the pride of a successful businessman evident in his tone. "Smooth, couldn't have been better.

"I drank that client under the table, and we signed the contract on the spot. Once this project wraps up, I'll buy you and our son a bigger place."

He was always like this, promising the moon and stars with every breath. I laughed, playfully punching his arm. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch. How do you know it's a son?"

"Because he's mine," he boasted, then paused as if remembering something. From a white paper bag he'd tossed on the floor, he pulled out a sleek square box and held it out to me. "Here, anniversary gift."

Happiness surged through me, filling my chest to the brim. Ever since James started his own business, he'd grown busier and busier. I'd assumed he'd long forgotten our third wedding anniversary.

The box was printed with foreign letters, sleek and elegant. My heart raced as I asked, eyes shining with anticipation, "What is it?"

"You've been going on about that imported strawberry shortcake, right?" James said, loosening his tie with a proud smirk. "I ran around to three different shops to find it."

I was over the moon. That shortcake had been on my wishlist for weeks.

My fingers brushed the delicate wrapping as I lifted the lid carefully, my breath catching in my throat.

But in the next second, all the color drained from my face. No strawberry shortcake sat inside. Instead, there was that bright red silk camisole dress, thin as gossamer.

Its color blazed like a roaring fire, searing my eyes. The style was daring and seductive, the flimsy fabric barely enough to cover the outline of a body.

A bucket of ice water seemed to pour over me, chilling me to the bone.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?" James tossed his tie on the couch, plopping down and grabbing the iced water I'd left out for him. He chugged half the glass, not even glancing at my frozen expression.

Fingers trembling, I clutched the soft yet cold fabric, drawing a deep breath to force calm into my voice. "James, this isn't the cake."

"What?" James set the glass down, finally looking up. His gaze flickered to the box, and he froze for a split second, then a faint, almost imperceptible panic crossed his face.

But he recovered quickly, slapping his forehead and laughing loudly. "Whoa, look at me being an idiot! Wrong box, wrong box. T-This is a gift for a client's wife. She helped me out a ton, so I wanted to thank her properly."

He stepped over, reaching for the box with a casual confidence. "That client's wife is from abroad. She's super open-minded, loves this kind of stuff. Your gift is in the other bag, I swear. Just a dumb mix-up."

Digging around the bottom of the white paper bag, James pulled out another identical box. Opening it, he revealed a strawberry shortcake, fresh strawberries glistening on top, cream smooth and white.

It looked delicious, but the bright red fruit made my stomach churn.

"See? There it is. Try a bite. You must be hungry after waiting so long." He held the cake out to me, acting like the mix-up had been nothing more than a harmless mistake.

I didn't take it. My eyes fixed on his face, searching for any hint of a lie in his seemingly sincere expression.

"James, what's the name of your client's wife? Funny how she also likes strawberries." My voice was soft, but sharp enough to cut through the pretense.

The smile on James' face froze in place.