Chapter 5
What had made him turn away from me?
Was everything he said six years ago a lie?
Or had he simply grown bored that he had me and wanted a new, more challenging conquest?
These questions filled my head even as Anthony whispered in my ear, “Thank you, baby girl. I feel alive again now.”
When he finally fell asleep, I slipped out of bed and cleaned myself up before stepping onto the balcony.
The Parisian night sky, once magical to me, that night felt like a cruel joke–a bitter reminder of the evidence I had uncovered.
Unconsciously, I muttered, “In a few days, it’ll be our fourth wedding anniversary. What a gift you‘ ve given me, Anthony. I’ll make sure to return the favor.”
**
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The next morning, we returned home earlier than planned because Anthony needed to get back to work. Over breakfast on the plane, I decided to test him.
“Babe,” I began casually, cutting into my croissant, “what do you think about the male protagonist in the novel I’m reading?
“He cheated on his wife even though he was so devoted to her in the beginning. They had been together since childhood, but a new woman came along and… well, I guess she was more excited for him.”
Anthony chuckled, shaking his head.
“That’s the shallowest reason I’ve ever
heard.
“Babe, you’ve always been the most challenging woman I’ve ever met.
Imagine how much you rejected me six
years ago. It wasn‘ t easy getting you to say yes.”
I gripped my knife tighter, imagining it
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cutting into something more than just my croissant.
“Right,” I said, forcing a smile. “You pursued me so much back then. I can’t imagine you doing what the male protagonist did.”
Anthony gulped, sensing something in my tone, but quickly turned the moment around. He plucked a piece of croissant from my plate and brought it to my lips.
“Don’t imagine it. I would never do that to you,” he said, brushing his thumb across my lips to wipe off some jam.
Then, in a move he had done countless times before, he licked his thumb with a smile.
It hit me like a slap. That same playful charm, that same seductive smile–how many other women had fallen for it?
“Such a Casanova,” I muttered under my breath.
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“What did you say?” he asked, glancing
- up.
“Oh, nothing,” I replied smoothly. “I was just saying how delicious this croissant is. Do you know where they bought it?”
“I’ll ask the flight attendant later,” he said with a grin. “You can have it every day if you want.”
I kissed his cheek, pretending to be the doting wife. “You‘ re so thoughtful.”
To anyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple. Anthony, the charming husband, and me, the devoted wife.
But perfection was a façade, and even the most perfect husbands like Anthony could cheat.
At the airport, Anthony excused himself, claiming he needed to go to the company quickly. But I followed him discreetly and saw him head to the parking lot, where Julie waited in a car.
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They shared an intimate kiss before driving off together.
I also did not wait another moment. I went
straight to the courthouse to have a divorce agreement printed.
I did not want his money, his properties, or any of the privileges his name offered. Even if the document was straightforward, outlining how I had been the one harmed by his affair.
“This will be both an anniversary and a farewell gift,” I whispered to myself as I signed it, sealing the end of the life I once thought was a dream.
Then, I spent the rest of my day at a quiet book café, refusing to return to the Manor after we arrived from Paris.
The thought of going back to that place, filled with memories of us and tainted by Anthony‘ s betrayal, was unbearable.
But in the late afternoon, Anthony called. His voice carried a mix of confusion and
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concern.
“Where are you? The butler said you haven’t returned home since earlier. When the driver came to the airport, he said that you have gone.
55
I kept my tone casual, masking the irritation bubbling beneath. “Oh, I went shopping with a friend. Sorry, I didn’t tell you first. She’s the one who picked me up at the airport.”
There was a pause on the line, then Anthony laughed softly. “You must not have been satisfied with the shopping in Paris last night. No wonder you only chose a few things.”
“No, the items in Paris were lovely,” I replied smoothly. “I just bought some jewelry to complete them.”
“Ah, I see. Well, it’s perfect timing because I’m inviting you to my friends‘ party tonight. Go home now; I’ve sent a stylist to the house to help you get ready,”
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he explained cheerfully, as if everything in our lives was picture–perfect.
I gave a brief, noncommittal answer.
“Okay.”
Despite agreeing, dread settled in my chest. None of Anthony‘ s friends liked me. No matter how much effort I put into being polite and accommodating, I could always sense their disdain.
To them, I was the ordinary girl who had somehow ended up with Anthony Harris. They could not hide their envy, and some did not even try, often making snide. comments disguised as jokes.
And worse, I knew some of them actively tried to introduce Anthony to other
women.
‘Could Julie have been one of them?‘ I wondered bitterly.
That question did not linger unanswered for long.
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When I arrived at the party, the answer was painfully clear. All of Anthony’s friends. seemed to know Julie. Their casual
remarks about her being late due to traffic spoke volumes.
They were far too familiar with her, exchanging knowing looks and laughing like she was part of their inner circle.
It hit me like a slap–every single one of them knew about his affair.
My jaw tightened as I turned to Anthony, keeping my voice steady but laced with accusation. “So, your secretary is one of your friends?”
