Chapter 1

Aaron worked late into the night every single day.

When he finally got home, he'd either crash in the guest room or pass out the moment his head hit the pillow.

We hadn't had sex in a year.

That all changed when I accidentally stumbled upon Aaron's chat with his secretary.

She sent a cute, needy message: [You won't even spend Valentine's Day with me? I'm so sad, I could cry.]

Aaron replied: [Be good. I'll celebrate your birthday with you next week.]

He added: [I bought you some special lingerie. Wear it for me at work tomorrow.]

*****

I looked down at the lace lingerie I was wearing. The neckline was loose and kept sliding down. It clearly wasn't my size.

Just a few hours ago, I had been bursting with joy, thinking Aaron had remembered Valentine's Day and sent me a sweet surprise.

While he was showering, I secretly changed into it, turning in front of the mirror, imagining how happy he would be when he came out.

But it turned out this ill-fitting lingerie was never meant for me.

He'd simply entered the wrong address by mistake, and it ended up in my hands.

I couldn't help but open the secretary's Instagram. Her latest video was taken at Disneyland.

She was skipping along, clinging to someone's hand, her smile so wide her eyes turned into little crescents. Fireworks lit up the background, making her beam even brighter.

And that hand she was holding had long fingers with sharp knuckles, and a stark white mark on the ring finger.

After seven years of marriage, I'd recognize Aaron's hand anywhere.

I froze where I stood, my fingers unconsciously tightening around my own wedding ring.

I scrolled through her feed and saw her latest post.

A nine-grid collage full of luxury bags, lined up in rows. The LV bag in the last picture was still in its dust bag.

Her caption was playful: [My boss always says I don't have enough bags, so he keeps buying me new ones! Got another gift today!]

A chill ran up from my feet as I opened Aaron's shopping app.

At the very top of his recent orders list were several expensive beauty items.

A best-selling foundation, a trending shade of lipstick, and a luxury cream I'd been wanting for ages but never allowed myself to splurge on.

I checked every order. Each one was headed to a high-end apartment in Sutton, and the name on the recipient line was "Emily Revera."

Without hesitation, I switched back to the chat window and turned on the screen recorder.

Their messages weren't too frequent.

Mostly, Aaron would message about booking that same hotel for tonight, just like before.

Emily would reply, saying she'd slip into the lingerie Aaron bought her once he showed up. And sometimes, there was some flirty back-and-forth mixed in.

When the recording was done, I sent the video to my email, deleted the chat record, then opened my photo album, deleted the video there, emptied the trash folder, and even cleared the cache.

It all went down in one smooth motion, without a single pause.

Just then, I caught the faint click of the bathroom door handle turning. I hurriedly set my phone back on the couch's armrest, exactly where it was before.

Aaron stepped out of the bathroom. His hair was still wet, plastered to his scalp. A few stray curls hung over his forehead, giving him a laid-back, almost lazy look.

Water droplets slid from his hair, dripping down his sharp jaw before vanishing into his bathrobe.

His eyes swept over me. When he saw the lingerie I was wearing, his steps paused for a split second.

A flash of surprise flickered across his face, but he masked it almost instantly and walked over. He asked, "How does it feel? Do you like it?"

I fussed with the loose straps of the lingerie, glanced up at him, and said casually, "Looks like you got the wrong size. It's way too loose. I already washed it, so I guess there's no way to return it now, huh?"

Aaron immediately shook his head, his voice full of gentle affection. "Return it? No way. I picked this out just for you. Next time, I'll get you one that's even smaller."

I looked into his eyes and saw how calm and unfazed he was, and it felt like something sharp was digging into my heart.

My gaze drifted downward, landing on my stomach.

Faint stretch marks traced across my skin like small scars, rough to the touch.

Every time I saw them, I couldn't help but think about the little one we lost.

The child we'd dreamed about for so long, but never got to hold.

Aaron walked over and hugged me from behind, his hand gentle against my stomach. His voice came soft, a touch hesitant. "Thinking about our little one again?"

I didn't turn around. Just murmured softly, "Yeah."

He held me tighter, his voice low and full of warmth. "Honey, don't dwell on the past. When you're strong and healthy again, we'll have another little one. That time, we'll shower them with all the love we've got."

"But we haven't had sex in almost a year." I cut him off.

His hand froze, then loosened a bit, and his voice turned hesitant. "Layla, it's not that I don't want to. After the miscarriage, the doctor said you needed to rest. I'm just worried about hurting you. Let's wait a bit longer, okay?"

Inside, I knew he was just making excuses. When a man wanted it, his body wouldn't lie.

But I didn't call him out. Instead, I said softly, "Your mom texted me today, asking why I still haven't gotten pregnant. She wants to take me to a traditional doctor over the holidays."

I turned to face him, leaning into his chest, my voice gentle. "Why don't we give it a shot tonight? Who knows, maybe luck's finally on our side?"

Aaron stiffened instantly, his arms loosening around me.

After a few seconds, he looked away and came up with a new excuse. "Layla, actually, IVF isn't a bad idea. I've looked into it. The technology's advanced now. They can screen healthy embryos and even time it perfectly. You wouldn't have to go through so much."

When I heard that, the last shred of hope inside me completely vanished.

He'd actually rather I suffer through all that pain of IVF, just so he wouldn't even have to touch me.

I forced down the bitterness in my eyes and gently pushed him away. "Alright, we'll talk about it when the time comes."

After a pause, I added, "Honey, I'm kind of hungry. Can you run downstairs and grab me some mushroom soup from that little shop by the gate?"

He breathed a clear sigh of relief, nodding eagerly. "Sure, I'll head over now. Hang tight at home, okay?"

Watching Aaron dash out the door, I hurried downstairs to the underground garage.

I unlocked his car, tucked the voice recorder into the storage compartment beneath the driver's seat.

Once I was certain it was recording, I quietly pulled the door shut.

Turning on my heel, I headed back up to the apartment.