Husband Got an Intern Pregnant, Then He Pleaded for Me to Return

Lately, they had been in touch more than usual. I didn’t know what I was thinking, I just reached out and tapped “Answer.”

"Mr. Greene!" Margot’s sweet, breathy voice came through the line.

I froze. My whole body went cold. So that was it. All those nights Callum supposedly needed him, Jericho was with her.

And every time he came home at dawn, slipping into bed like nothing happened… it was right after he had left hers.

I used to feel sorry for him. I would tell him to get more rest, offer to cook.

Then, he would smile, kiss my forehead and say, "No matter how tired I am, I still wanna make breakfast and take you to work, baby."

He said that. He actually said that, knowing what he was doing.

Margot said "Hello?" again, sounding unsure now. Then she must’ve realized something. She stopped talking.

A moment later, the voice on the line changed. It was Callum. "Hi, this is Callum. Is Mr. Greene there?"

I swallowed. "He’s in the shower. Did you need something?"

"Not really," Callum replied, all casual. "I picked up a nice bottle of wine at an auction. Just wanted to invite him to try it. If he’s tied up, we can do it another time."

"He’s not. I’ll come with him after his shower," I said, like it was nothing.

Callum didn’t reply right away. The silence was awkward. When he finally spoke again, his voice had lost its usual smoothness.

Jericho stepped out of the bathroom right then, towel around his neck, water still dripping from his hair. He looked surprised when I told him Callum wanted to hang out.

I looked up at him, all wide-eyed. "What? Is it weird if I tag along?"

He blinked, then quickly pulled me into a hug. "Baby, what are you saying? I’d love for you to come."

Before we headed out, he even put on the tie I gave him, said he wanted to show it off. I glanced toward the dressing mirror while he fixed it. The glass had a long, thin crack through it. Yesterday, it was fine.

Jericho saw it too. His jaw tightened just a little.

He turned to say something, but I didn’t give him the chance. I just looked away, opened the door and walked out like everything was fine.

As soon as I sat down in the passenger seat, I felt something under me. I reached down and pulled it out; a small, square plastic wrapper.

Jericho glanced over, stunned for a second. Then he quickly covered it up with a scoff. "Seriously? Callum must've borrowed my car again to hook up with someone."

He snatched it from my hand and tossed it into the center console like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t his.

Back then, I probably would’ve believed him without question. That was how he got away with lying to me so many times.

I didn’t bother arguing. I just turned my head and stared out the window, not wanting to see his fake reactions anymore.

Jericho reached into the backseat and grabbed a blanket, gently laying it over me. "Try to get some rest. I’ll wake you when we get there."

The blanket was warm, soft, even kind of comforting, but I still felt frozen to the bone.

When we pulled up to Callum’s place, the party was already in full swing. A bunch of rich kids were lounging around, drinking, laughing, passing the mic to whoever wanted to sing next.

And there she was—Margot. Draped across Callum’s lap like it was her throne.

Her arm was lazily looped around his shoulders and as she moved, I caught a glimpse of the faint purple marks on her skin.

One of the guys whistled. "Damn, didn’t know you were into that rough stuff, Firth."

Callum laughed awkwardly and just shrugged it off.

Jericho looked away, his face unreadable, but his jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips were pressed together.

I knew that look. That was his quiet, simmering anger, the kind he wore when he lost a bid on a rare piece he wanted at an auction.

Except this time, I had a feeling it had nothing to do with collectibles.