Chapter 2

2

"Okay."

I stirred the water in my glass, answering him with total indifference.

Lincoln didn't notice anything was wrong. He disappeared into the bedroom, and soon, the sound of the shower filled the air.

My phone buzzed with a text from my brother.

"Just landed. Let's meet. I need the full story."

I sighed. I had asked my brother to freeze all orders for Lincoln's company for the second half of the year.

I knew I couldn't avoid his questions forever.

To focus on getting pregnant, I had followed Lincoln's advice and slowly stepped back from managing the company.

If I was going to divorce him, the company would be our biggest battlefield.

I texted my brother back and went to the bedroom to change.

Just then, Lincoln's phone lit up with a notification from Renee.

"Did your old lady find out anything？"

The screen went dark again. The shower was still running. I reached out and picked up the phone.

I remembered when we were dating, and even in the early years of our marriage, Lincoln would joke about why I never checked his phone.

I would just tap his cheek and tell him I trusted him.

He used to laugh and say I was the only woman he'd ever love.

I entered the passcode I had known for years.

The wallpaper was still our wedding photo from ten years ago. It felt like a slap in the face.

I scrolled through their chat history.

They had been together much longer than I thought.

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me. My fingers trembled.

The graphic, filthy messages between them burned my eyes.

Every time Lincoln had used a business trip as an excuse, he was actually away with Renee.

The night he took her on a romantic Ferris wheel ride for her birthday, I was home alone.

I had collapsed on the floor with acute gastritis from my strict fertility diet.

I called him, desperate for help, but he only sounded annoyed.

"You're not a child, Cassie. Go to the ER yourself. You're not going to die."

That night, I curled up on the cold floor for hours.

When the pain finally faded enough for me to move, I drove myself to the hospital for an IV drip.

Afterward, I lied to myself that he was just under too much pressure at work.

Thinking back, I was a pathetic fool.

I suppressed the urge to scream. I quickly took photos of the evidence and put the phone back exactly where it was.

By the time he came out, I was picking out an outfit.

A pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Lincoln's warm breath hit my ear.

I clenched my fists, the skin of my palms breaking under my nails as I fought the urge to vomit.

I pulled away, my voice sharp and cold.

"What are you doing？ Let go. I have an appointment."