Chapter 2

2.

I knew the girl in the photo―Mia. She was supposedly Julian’s great love from college. They had dated for four years at Yale and were inseparable.

They had planned to get married right after graduation, but Mia insisted on going to the UK for her master's degree. They had a huge fight about it and eventually broke up. A heartbroken Julian then agreed to an arranged marriage with me.

Julian was the one who told me all about Mia. He was very open about their story, which was one of the reasons I decided to marry him in the first place.

But after seeing that photo, I realized his casual, matter-of-fact tone had probably been a lie.

When we first got married, there were whispers. Everyone knew Julian had been in a four-year relationship with a girl named Mia, the girl he had wanted to marry. They gossiped that it didn’t matter if he married Zoe Clark; the moment Mia came back, Zoe would be out.

But even though we married quickly, Julian gave me complete respect and dignity. He threw a huge wedding with countless guests, and in front of everyone, he said, “Zoe is my wife. My one and only.”

Our life together was quiet, but happy. He’d pack my lunch because I complained about the terrible takeout options near my studio. When the forecast called for a Nor’easter, he’d reschedule his class to drive across town and bring me a warmer coat.

For three years, I watched my husband closely, trying to decide if he was the man I wanted to have children with. For three years, he had been perfect.

I thought he had forgotten about the one that got away. I was even starting to dream about us having a baby.

But the look in his eyes in that photo, the way he was smiling, it felt like a knife in my gut.

Julian came home quickly. It was a cool October night, but he was sweating as if he’d run all the way.

“Zoe, listen to me.”

He explained that he’d forgotten to turn his ringer back on after class, and that when Leo invited him out for drinks, he hadn’t mentioned Mia would be there.

Julian took my hands. “I know this looks bad. But a divorce? Can we not jump straight to that conclusion?”

“It’s been three years, Zoe. Please, trust me.”

He was right. It had been three years. I couldn’t sentence him to death over a single photograph.

Life seemed to return to normal, as if Mia had never reappeared. Julian would order my favorite flowers to be delivered to the apartment. After dinner, we’d curl up on the sofa, and he’d tell me funny stories from his classes.

But I had seen him when he was truly focused on me, so it was easy to spot his distraction now. He would tilt his phone away when he texted, making sure I couldn’t see the screen. I would be in his arms, but it felt like there was an invisible wall between us.

Suddenly, he put his phone away. “We’re out of fruit. I’m going to run out and get some.”

He left so quickly I didn’t have a chance to tell him the fridge was fully stocked with fruit we had just bought from Trader Joe’s last weekend.

A wicked thought crossed my mind. I checked the time: 10:32 PM. How long would he be gone? Half an hour? Two hours? Or would he stay out all night? And if he did, what excuse would he come up with?

Surprisingly, he came back sooner than I expected. He was carrying a small bag of green apples―the kind he always said were too sour. They were from a tiny corner store popular with students, a place Julian hated. He’d once said he’d rather eat no fruit at all than buy those apples.

He acted like nothing was wrong, as if he had genuinely just gone out for fruit. But I didn’t miss the way his shoulders tensed for a split second when he opened the fridge and saw it was already full.

I watched him deliberately shove the new bag of apples into the very back. After that, he casually announced he was going to his study to prep for his classes.

Julian didn’t come to the master bedroom that night. I lay in our big bed, my mind racing―if we divorced… how would we split the assets… how would we explain this to our parents…

When I woke up, the usual packed lunch wasn’t on the dining table. He had left a note on the board by the door: Something urgent at the university. Had to leave early.

I stared at the words. We lived in faculty housing, less than a fifteen-minute walk from Julian’s lecture hall. It wasn’t even 7 AM, and his first class wasn’t until 8. No meetings, no events, nothing on his schedule. What kind of emergency could it be?

I pushed the thought away. Maybe it’s real, I told myself.

I got to my design studio, and the part-time student I hired was looking at me, hesitating to speak.

“What is it?” I asked her. “Did something happen?”

Her name was Chloe. I had asked Julian to help me find a student assistant, and she was in one of his classes. She usually helped with administrative tasks and organizing files.

I thought maybe she’d made a mistake and was afraid I’d be angry, so I softened my expression to reassure her. Mistakes happen; they can be fixed.

―And then, unexpectedly, I thought of Julian. Can mistakes in a marriage be fixed?

“Zoe, have you seen the university’s Reddit forum?” Chloe asked cautiously.

I snapped back to reality. “No, I haven’t.” I had come straight to the studio and rarely checked it anyway. I only browsed it when I was really bored, to see the bizarre stories and snarky comments from the younger generation.

Chloe hesitated. “Maybe you should take a look?”

“I mean… uh, just don’t get too upset when you see it…”

Her behavior gave me a sinking feeling. What on the forum could possibly have to do with me? The only connection was Julian.

Chloe unlocked her phone and handed it to me, adding a warning. “Zoe, take a deep breath. Don’t let it get to you.”

On the front page of the “Hot” section was a picture of Julian and Mia, embracing under the old oak tree on campus.

Even though I had prepared myself, the sight of it still knocked the wind out of me. It felt like a punch to the chest, making it hard to breathe.

That oak tree was in a secluded spot on campus, a place people rarely went. Julian knew that. That must be why he felt so comfortable being so intimate with Mia there. But he never expected someone would take a picture and post it online.

Chloe watched my face, her voice filled with concern. “Zoe, are you okay?”

I nodded and kept reading. The post was anonymous, and the caption was pure drama. The title was inflammatory: LIVE: Harvard’s Star Professor Julian Hayes Caught in the Act.