Chapter 2 A Husband's Kiss

For seven years, I had believed there was no voice in the world I could recognize faster than my husband's. I knew how Adrian sounded when he was angry, when he was exhausted, and when he wanted to charm his way out of an argument. I had listened to that voice whisper promises against my skin, comfort me through my father's funeral, and assure me that no matter what happened, we would always have each other. So when I heard him speaking in the background of Vanessa's phone call, there was no possibility that I had mistaken him for someone else.

"Vanessa, have you found it?"

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Vanessa had been talking excitedly about surprising me with something, but the moment Adrian spoke, she stopped in the middle of her sentence. I heard hurried footsteps, followed by what sounded like a door closing. When she finally spoke again, her voice had changed.

"Sorry, babe. My cousin is here, and he's driving me crazy looking for his car keys." She laughed nervously, then asked whether I had decided what to wear for dinner.

I stared at the black lace underwear resting on my lap. "Your cousin? That's strange because I could have sworn I heard Adrian's voice."

Vanessa laughed again, louder this time. "Girl, seriously? Why would Adrian be at my apartment when he's supposed to be working? You must be exhausted. Honestly, Isabella, you've been stressing yourself too much lately."

Perhaps she expected me to laugh along with her. Normally, I would have, but nothing about the situation was funny. I had known Vanessa since our university days, and I couldn't remember her ever mentioning a cousin who sounded exactly like my husband. Still, I forced myself to sound amused because something told me that confronting her over the phone would be a mistake.

"You're probably right. Anyway, have you lost anything recently? Maybe something you bought when we went shopping three weeks ago?"

"What?" Her response came so sharply that I almost flinched. After a brief pause, she cleared her throat and said, "No, I don't think so. Why would you ask?"

I looked at the little golden butterfly stitched into the lace. "No reason, Vanessa. I just found something interesting while cleaning." Before she could question me further, I pretended someone was at the door and ended the call.

For several minutes, I remained seated on the edge of our bed, unable to move. The room looked exactly as it had that morning, with our wedding photograph hanging above the dresser and Adrian's expensive watches arranged neatly beside mine. Everything around me represented the beautiful life we had spent seven years building, yet I suddenly felt like a stranger standing in someone else's bedroom.

My phone vibrated shortly before six. Adrian was calling to tell me he would be home soon, and his cheerful voice made my stomach tighten. He asked about my afternoon, reminded me about our dinner reservation, and told me how much he had missed me. I listened carefully, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but he sounded completely normal.

By the time his car pulled into the driveway, I had hidden the underwear inside an envelope at the bottom of my wardrobe. I had also taken several photographs of it, although I wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps some part of me already understood that I would need proof before either of them admitted anything.

Adrian entered the living room carrying a bouquet of white roses, my favorite flowers. He smiled when he saw me sitting on the sofa and immediately came over to kiss my forehead. "There's my beautiful wife. I was going to take you somewhere special tonight, but you look exhausted. Are you feeling all right?"

I told him I had a headache, and he abandoned our dinner plans without complaining. Instead, he sat beside me, pulled my feet onto his lap, and began massaging them while asking whether I had eaten. His tenderness was so familiar that I nearly started crying. How could someone be this loving and still betray the woman he claimed meant everything to him?

Then he leaned closer, and I smelled it.

Vanilla and jasmine.

It was the same fragrance I had noticed on his pillow earlier that afternoon, the perfume Vanessa had worn for years. My entire body stiffened, and I immediately pulled my feet away from his lap.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Adrian asked, studying my face with genuine concern.

I swallowed before answering. "Did you see Vanessa today?"

He frowned slightly, although the expression disappeared almost immediately. "Vanessa? No, baby. Why would I see her?"

"I called her this afternoon, and I thought I heard your voice in the background. It sounded so much like you that I almost asked whether you were there."

Adrian stared at me for a moment before laughing. He leaned back against the sofa, shaking his head as though I had said something ridiculous. "Isabella, please tell me you're joking. You're not seriously suggesting that I'm sneaking around with your best friend, are you?"

His reaction made me feel foolish, which was exactly what frightened me. Adrian had always possessed an extraordinary ability to make an uncomfortable conversation seem unnecessary. Whenever I questioned something he did, he would patiently explain it until I wondered why I had been concerned in the first place.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," I replied quietly. "I only asked because I thought I recognized your voice."

He reached for my hand and pressed his lips against my knuckles. "Listen to me, sweetheart. I married you because you're the woman I want to spend my life with. Do you honestly believe I'd throw away everything we've built for Vanessa?"

I couldn't answer. His eyes were fixed on mine, and for one desperate moment, I wanted to believe every word. When he leaned forward and kissed me, I allowed it, even though the unfamiliar perfume clinging to his shirt made my skin crawl.

Later that evening, after we'd eaten, Adrian went upstairs to shower. I was clearing the kitchen counter when his phone vibrated beside his car keys. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have looked because we had never made a habit of checking each other's messages. But something about the afternoon had already changed me, and when the screen illuminated, my eyes moved toward it almost instinctively.

The message was from an unsaved number, and the words made my heart pound.

You need to be more careful. She almost caught us today.

I stood frozen, reading the message repeatedly until another appeared beneath it.

Please tell me you found my panties. I can't afford to have Isabella see them.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. There was no longer any room for innocent explanations, yet I still couldn't bring myself to accept what was staring me in the face. Adrian had brought my best friend into our bedroom, and both of them had looked me in the eyes afterward as though nothing had happened.

Then a third message appeared, and the betrayal suddenly became something far more frightening.

Remember what you promised me. Once she signs those papers, you're getting rid of her.

I read the words twice, trying to understand what papers they were discussing and why my signature mattered. Adrian had recently mentioned some documents relating to his company's expansion, but he'd assured me they were routine and promised to explain everything over the weekend.

Before I could think any further, I heard footsteps upstairs. Adrian called my name from the landing, asking whether I had seen his phone. I picked it up, intending to leave it beside the staircase before he came down, but the screen illuminated again.

This time, the message came from Vanessa's saved contact.

Baby, delete our messages. Isabella called me earlier, and I think she's getting suspicious.

"Isabella?"

I looked up to find Adrian standing halfway down the staircase, wearing a towel around his waist. His eyes moved from my face to the phone in my hand, and the affectionate smile he had worn all evening slowly disappeared.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke. I could hear the television playing in the living room, and somewhere outside, a car horn sounded. Adrian took another step down, his gaze remaining fixed on the phone.

"Sweetheart," he said carefully, "why are you holding my phone?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could answer, another message flashed across the screen. This one made the blood drain from my face.

Adrian, your father just called. If Isabella refuses to sign tomorrow, he said we'll have to use the other plan. You know what happened to her father when he became difficult.

I looked up at my husband, suddenly remembering how my father had died.

And as Adrian stared at the message glowing between my fingers, I realized that whatever secret he was keeping might be far worse than an affair.