Chapter 2

2

Zachary froze, the color draining from his face.

"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped, his voice sharp with defensiveness. "There's a limit to your ridiculous paranoia!"

After a decade together, shouting matches were rare between us.

We had learned to avoid pointless arguments.

It wasn't because we were at peace, but because I was simply too exhausted to care.

"Maeve, I know tonight looked bad," he said quickly. "Gigi's company is a major investor. She bought that ring at an auction price beforehand!"

He waved his hands around frantically. "Everything I said on stage was just a PR script to fit the theme of the collection. Can you stop looking for conspiracies where there are none?"

His agitation was painfully obvious.

The louder he got, the clearer his guilt became.

I cleared my throat and asked calmly, "Why aren't you wearing the watch I gave you this morning? Didn't you like it?"

He blinked in confusion, quickly pulling his sleeve down over his bare wrist.

"I took it off before my shower and left it on the vanity," he lied smoothly. "Why wouldn't I love it? I'm going to wear it every single day."

A dry laugh escaped my lips as I stared into his shifty eyes.

"What watch, Zachary? I bought you a bottle of cologne. You didn't even bother opening the box, did you?"

Zachary's jaw tightened.

He stood frozen for several seconds before trying to deflect.

"Maeve, are you seriously testing me?"

"I already explained everything," he pressed on. "Gigi is just a business partner. Are you really making a scene over staged marketing?"

Ten years of marriage, and I had tried so hard to preserve our dignity.

Yet he insisted on dragging every shred of respect into the mud.

I unlocked my phone, held up the bank notification, and shoved the screen in his face.

"Tell me, Zachary," I said coldly. "What kind of business deal requires you to book a luxury suite at a boutique love hotel at midnight?"

Zachary's face went ghost-white as his hand darted toward his pocket.

The realization finally hit him.

He had been so drunk that he charged the room to our linked shared account.

Even with the evidence staring him in the face, he scrambled for an excuse.

"We had dinner with Gigi's team, and she had too much to drink," he stammered. "I booked a room to make sure she was safe. Is helping a client a crime now?"

I didn't want to waste another breath.

I stood up and walked toward the bedroom.

I had played the naive, forgiving fool for half my life, but tonight I chose absolute clarity.

"Zachary, let's get a divorce."

Ignoring his stunned expression, I stepped inside and locked the bedroom door behind me.

A decade of devotion ended right there.