After I Caught My Fiancé Cheating On My Birthday

Silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. Joshua watched me, calculating his next move like a predator sizing up prey, hunting for the right words to make me change my mind.

After a long beat, he knelt down, aiming for sincerity.

“Sadie, I admit it. I was wrong,” he confessed. “The girl you saw is Reina Martin. I met her last month when I was lecturing at my old university. Her defiance intrigued me. I wanted to know what made this ‘delicate flower’ different.”

“But after a while, I realized she’s nothing special—nowhere near you.” He tried to kiss my earlobe, his voice smooth and seductive, like the devil tempting me. “Besides, you’re my wife. I would never expect you to put up with that.”

In public, Joshua wore gold-rimmed glasses, looking refined and charming. But beneath that polished surface was a darker side that got off on ruining beautiful things. In bed, he was almost ruthless. No one could stomach his twisted tastes for long, and his lovers always came and went.

Yet in business, he was cold and decisive. With me, he was always gentle. He never hesitated to shower me with comfort and wealth, and behind closed doors, my feelings always came first.

Back in the present, his fingers traced along my side, pulling me from my thoughts. I shoved him away.

“I said I want to end this.”

Joshua laughed, eyeing me like I was a harmless kitten—claws out, but no bite.

“Sadie, is breaking up your only move?” His words landed hard.

After ten years with Joshua, breaking up had become our ritual. Every time I decided to leave, he’d charm me back, turning my declarations into pleas for attention.

But this time, I wiped away my last tear and stood my ground. “This time, it’s for real.”

I didn’t wait for his response. I bolted from the study.

When I reached the first floor, Reina was still on the sofa. She hadn’t left. Her knees were bruised, her lips swollen. Sympathy washed over me, and I handed her a tissue.

“Your lip is bleeding,” I said softly.

Reina took the tissue. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, “Don’t you hate me?”

I hesitated. Even if it wasn’t Reina, there would always be another woman. The problem was Joshua, not them. To me, she was just another person.

But there was a gleam in her eyes—a light that shouldn’t be snuffed out or wasted.

So I heard myself say, “Reina, right?”

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking Joshua cares about you. Walk away before it’s too late,” I said.

Before I could go on, Reina cut me off. “You think I’m as naive as you?”

“To me, he’s just a good-looking ATM. Fifty grand a night, and with that money, I can study music in Europe and chase my dreams.”

“But you,” she added, her gaze sharp and clear, “don’t stay in this too long.”

As women, we both understood what went unsaid between us.