Chapter 3

3

"Fine. I'm not arguing with you anymore. I have to go to Caleb's place tonight. You can take an Uber home when they discharge you."

I remembered her phone call. "Are you really going there for medical reasons, Gwen? Tell me the truth."

She sighed, looking at me like I was an idiot. "Yes. Caleb is traumatized by women. He only trusts me."

"Colton and I discussed it. He wants me to act as his sexual initiation surrogate to break his mental block."

I felt the air leave my lungs. "A sexual initiation surrogate? Are you hearing yourself?"

"Say that again. Slowly."

"It's clinical, Jasper! It's called surrogate partner therapy. I'm helping him move past his dysfunction!"

I gritted my teeth until they ached. "Helping him move past it by sleeping with him? That's what you're saying?"

Gwen's face turned a deep shade of purple. "You are so backwards! I am a doctor. This is a medical procedure!"

It was the most absurd thing I had ever heard. She was calling adultery a "procedure."

"You are my wife, Gwen. Not his mistress."

"I can't talk to you when you're like this. I've made my decision. I won't let that boy suffer just because you're insecure."

She turned to leave. I felt something inside me finally snap. The love I had carried for her for years withered into ash.

"Gwen, if you walk out that door and go to him, we are done. Permanently."

The only answer I got was the sound of the door slamming.

I ripped the IV out of my arm, ignoring the sting. I tried to chase her, but by the time I reached the lobby, I saw her getting into Colton's car.

Colton saw me standing there. He revved his engine and sped away, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust.

I called her repeatedly. First, she declined. Then, she turned her phone off.

I didn't know what kind of spell those two had over her. I punched the brick wall of the hospital entrance in frustration.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from an anonymous number.

It was a photo of a hotel suite. The bed was covered in red rose petals, and the nightstand was lined with various adult toys and oils.

Below it was a text: "The woman you love belongs to me now."

I knew exactly who sent it. I was shaking with a mix of heartbreak and pure, unadulterated loathing.

Gwen used to be the untouchable ice queen of our college. Everyone wanted her, but she chose me.

I remember the night she asked me to be hers. She had set up candles in a heart shape on the campus lawn and used a megaphone to tell the world she loved me.

She told me her first love, Colton, was just a mistake from her teenage years. She said she never really loved him.

Maybe she didn't. But she clearly loved his son.

I checked her GPS one last time. It showed nothing. The signal was dead.

The anonymous number messaged again: "Don't bother looking. Her tracker is at the bottom of the river."

A photo followed. It showed Gwen sitting in Colton's passenger seat, throwing her expensive smartwatch out the window into the water.

That was it. The woman I married was dead. The person left behind was someone I didn't recognize.

I went home and looked at our house. Every corner held a memory. Every room was a reminder of a lie.

I started crying, but I forced myself to stop. This was the last time she'd get a single tear from me.

I packed every single thing she owned into trash bags and threw them on the curb. I called my lawyer and had him draft divorce papers immediately.

I could forgive a lot of things, but I could never forgive this. She was using her degree as a shield for her infidelity.

I changed the locks and the security codes. I bought this house before we got married; she had no claim to it.

Then, I booked a one-way ticket out of the country. I needed to breathe air that didn't smell like her betrayal.