Frugal Husband's Secret Identity

He looked stunned, kneeling down, gripping my hands with tears welling up.

"Mia, I really had an emergency last night. I didn't mean to stay out. Please don't be mad."

"I'm begging you, I'll never do it again. Forgive me, I really can't bear to lose you."

His eyes were swimming with tears, giving me that pitiful look.

He knew it would work every time we fought.

"Ha," I chuckled, "you're quite the actor, aren't you? Should've been on a stage, not in sales."

He really could put on a show; for three years, I never doubted him for a second.

Not that there weren't slips; it's just that love had blinded me to them.

Once during an outdoor shoot, I caught him in a sports car, dressed like a trust fund kid.

He claimed his boss thought he looked sharp and wanted him to model for a shoot, the car just a prop.

And I bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

He'd joke about having the face of a tycoon but not the fortune to match.

If it weren't for seeing through his facade, I might have been moved by his tears once again.

I leaned in, disappointment dripping from my words, "Eric Pyke, have you enjoyed your little charade?"

He looked rattled, flopping to the floor, his pleading eyes locked on mine.

"Just go. I'm no plain Jane for a rich kid like you. Did you come close because I remind you of her?"

It turns out that when you hit rock bottom, you find a peculiar calm.

I was emotionless, and couldn't even bring myself to look at him anymore.

I'm just glad that during these busy three years, we never thought about having kids.

If we had, I might not have had the strength to end this now.

I took a deep breath.

"Since she's back, you might as well be with her. But don't forget, I've invested a lot in you these past three years. You owe me."