Chapter 1
I was the wife Charles Ford snatched away from his friend, taken by force.
As the homewrecker who climbed up by stealing me, he kept an eye on every man who got close to me.
He even had to make sure the dog I fed was a girl, and her owner was a woman, before he could relax.
But then, a new intern started at the office and brought me coffee for a few days.
Charles said he was fine, but that night, he stayed up until 3 a.m. scrolling through my phone, so pissed he broke out in hives.
We were on our way to the hospital.
His face was burning up with fever as he shoved the intern's photo right in my face.
"Come on, those pecs are totally photoshopped," Charles grumbled.
"And that height? He's definitely wearing lifts. No way he's six feet tall." Charles added.
With the doctors struggling not to crack up, I awkwardly covered his mouth and shoved him into the ER.
On the way to pick up the meds, the doctor made an offhand comment.
"For birth control, we still recommend women use birth control pills or condoms. This new male contraceptive hit the market, and the side effects are no joke. Getting hives is actually one of the lighter ones," the doctor explained.
"And he took it three times in a week? Even if he's trying to protect you, that's reckless," the doctor added.
I froze. I was already three months pregnant.
*****
I watched Charles sleep, then picked up his phone.
Every password he set was my birthday.
His social media was overflowing with my photos.
His search history was nothing but me.
[How do I get my wife's attention?]
[Is my wife annoyed because I'm too clingy? Is she seeing someone else?]
[What should I do when my wife misses her mom who's passed away?]
Even his memo app was packed with notes about me.
[March 20: Sweetheart had a nightmare and was missing her mom.]
[March 21: Sweetheart's morning sickness has been really bad lately. She can't keep anything down.]
[April 1: I specially asked Sweetheart's old nanny to teach me how to cook her mom's signature tomato beef brisket. Sweetheart really enjoyed it.]
My eyes started to sting as I read all this.
I tried to tell myself I was being extra emotional because of the pregnancy.
But then, the navigation app on his phone suddenly popped up a notification.
App: [Based on your usual route, we've automatically planned your way home. Estimated travel time: 30 minutes.]
The destination was Building 7 at Willow Heights.
But I lived in Building 3.
I couldn't help but tap into the app.
The navigation history showed that for the past three months, he'd been heading to that address every single day at noon, staying there for about two hours each time.
It suddenly hit me. Because of my bad morning sickness, I'd lost nine pounds in three months, and the only thing I could keep down was the food Charles cooked.
But his office was so far away. Every day, he had to take care of me and deal with those sly old foxes at work, and working overtime until the early hours was his normal routine.
I felt bad for him and wanted him to get some real rest at lunchtime.
But he thought I didn't need him anymore, and we ended up having a huge fight. No matter what I said, he kept that cold look on his face and insisted on making lunch for me.
It wasn't until I pretended my morning sickness was getting better and promised I'd take care of myself that he finally agreed to rest at the office.
But in reality, he was spending every day in Building 7 at Willow Heights, less than a thousand feet from my building, with someone else.
I gripped the phone, my whole body trembling.
Suddenly, a message popped up.
[Charlie, I left a pair of panties at your place yesterday. She did not find them, did she? I left them for you with my scent.]
[They're my favorite pair of panties. Bring them over on my birthday, okay?]
I stared at the profile picture, my eyes glued to it.
My hand shook as I tapped the profile picture.
It was Emily Stone.
She was the illegitimate daughter who had driven my mother to her grave and taken my father from me.
Ever since we were kids, she was always fighting me for everything, my clothes, my jewelry, even Dad's attention.
And now, even my own husband.
I divorced my ex-husband after I caught him in bed with her.
That day, I was utterly devastated.
Charles pulled me into his arms and made me a solemn promise.
"Sweetheart, I'll only ever love you. No matter how much she tries to mess with us, I'll never even spare her a glance. Trust me," Charles vowed.
And for a long time, he really did keep that promise.
Emily tried to seduce him and sent him nude photos.
Charles called the cops right away, and Emily was detained for seven days.
He also reported the incident to her school, getting her expelled and ruining her future.
I thought that leaving that mess behind and meeting Charles was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.
But why did it have to be her of all people?
Why is it always her?
Like I was torturing myself, I opened up their chat.
I saw Charles calling her "Sweetheart."
Whenever Emily tried to expose the affair, Charles blocked and scolded her, then punished her in bed.
While I was stuck in the hospital, terrified and crying over worrying prenatal test results, they were sleeping together in the room I'd decorated with my own hands, with Emily wearing my pajamas.
My whole body trembled, my stomach twisting with disgust as bile burned in my throat.
Behind me, the bed shifted slightly.
"Honey?" Charles called out.