“Mom, do you think infidelity is a forgivable
mistake?”
“Chloe, as long as he still comes home, just
turn a blind eye.‘
“”
My phone rang. It was Liam. “Chloe, where
are you?” His voice was laced with anxiety.
“I’m at Mom’s.”
“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” He
was always so perceptive.
I took a deep breath. “Nothing. Just missed
my son.
وو
“Silly, just bring him home for a few days. Or I’ll come pick him up with you, okay?” His
voice was gentle, filled with concern and
affection.
“No need. I’ll stay and chat with Mom. We’ll
be back in a couple of days.”
“I’m here for you. Whatever happens, we’ll
face it together.” He’d said the same thing
<
when my grandmother died, when I was so
distraught I almost jumped off a roof. Back
then, he’d been a light in my dark world,
offering hope and warmth.
“I made reservations at that restaurant. Let’s
have dinner tonight, okay?”
My hand trembled. I was torn. “Chloe? What’s
wrong? Did Mom say something to you?
Don’t take it to heart, I…”
“Liam…” I interrupted. “Do you love me?”
“Of course I love you, silly. I’ll only ever love
you.” His tone was sincere, unwavering. We’d
known each other for so long, loved each
other, built a life together. He was a good
husband, except for this. Maybe I should give
him a chance, give our marriage a chance…
“Okay. I’ll see you at the restaurant tonight.” I
smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in
days.
“Ma’am, you’ve been here for three hours.
<
Would you like to order?” the waitress asked
gently.
I snapped back to reality. “Sorry. I’ll take two
of your house salads.” I glanced at my phone.
I was three hours and seven minutes late for
my dinner with Liam. He wasn’t coming.
I clicked on LilBoat’s profile. As expected, a
new post: a picture of a pregnancy test. The
angle cleverly revealed the hand holding it,
the fingers long and slender, wearing our
wedding ring. The caption: “Celebrating our
little family of three at home. Can’t wait to
meet you.”
I scrolled through her older posts. Judging by
the timeline, they’d been together for over a year. A year ago, I’d been a month pregnant.
My husband had been cheating on me while I
was carrying his child.
Then, another notification: LilBoat posted a
new story. This time, it was a selfie of her
く
and Liam. I recognized her. She was a popular
influencer. This post was meant for me, I was
sure of it. I took a screenshot, preserving the
evidence. A second later, another notification
popped up: The post has been deleted.
I took out my phone and dialed a number.
“Hello, is this Mr. Peterson from the
Entertainment News? I have a big story for
you, about the influencer, Tiffany Blake. Are
you interested…?”
Chapter 2
Within half an hour, news of “Pure
Influencer’s Affair Exposed” was trending
everywhere.
I watched videos of Liam, usually so polished
and composed, now disheveled and dodging
reporters.
Tiffany’s career was taking off, thanks to a
hit fantasy drama.
This scandal, an affair with a married man,
Г
was a PR nightmare.
I scrolled through the comments online.
Predictably, it was a torrent of outrage.
“Homewrecker! Disgusting!”
“I can’t believe I was a fan. So disappointed!”
Liam, probably hounded by paparazzi, holed
up in a hotel instead of coming home.
My phone buzzed with messages from him.
“Chloe, please, you have to believe me. It’s all
a misunderstanding. Let me explain.‘
“Chloe, I swear, there’s nothing going on
between me and that woman. It’s not what it
looks like.”
“Chloe, answer the phone! We need to talk
face–to–face.”
I blocked him. Out of sight, out of mind.
Tiffany’s alternate account had been wiped
clean and deactivated.
But I had all the evidence I needed.
As I packed my bags, Liam finally showed up.
く
“Chloe, what are you doing?”
He looked haggard after a week of hiding,
dark circles under his eyes.
“Leaving,” I said curtly, continuing to pack.
“Chloe, you have to listen to me! There’s
nothing between us. Those photos were taken
out of context. Don’t believe them!”
