He Left Her in the Cold

My husband, Spencer Porter, had a "soulmate"—his childhood sweetheart, Kendall Shaw. When I was seven months pregnant, she invited us to spend a weekend at a luxury ski resort in Aspen.

In the resort's public lounge, a fire blazed in the hearth. Outside, snow drifted over the dark silhouette of the Rocky Mountains.

I was tucked away in a corner, busying myself with my phone.

Suddenly, Kendall sauntered over to the fireplace, draped in a cashmere blanket, and purred at Spencer, "Come on, warm them up for me."

For a moment, I was sure I had misheard.

But my husband—the newly-minted CEO of a tech company who prided himself on his gentlemanly conduct—just smiled indulgently and slipped his hands under the blanket without hesitation. "You just love being spoiled," he teased. "It's boiling in here and you're still cold?"

Kendall giggled, her toes brushing against his leg. "It's your fault for ditching me on the slopes. If I freeze to death, it's on you."

Our other friends started whistling and catcalling.

Just as Spencer's hand began sliding up the inside of Kendall's thigh, he finally remembered I was there and shot an instinctive glance my way. But Kendall grabbed his hand, guiding it higher.

"Don't worry, Annelise," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Spencer and I have always been like this. No secrets between us. It's just feet. Come on, Annelise. You're a woman of class. I'm sure you're above getting jealous over something so trivial, right?"

I scoffed, turning my back to them as I texted my lawyer: "Prepare the divorce papers. I'm taking him for everything he's worth."

I wouldn't make a scene. But they would both pay for this. Oh, they would pay.

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1

Seeing my lack of reaction, Kendall grew even more audacious, draping one leg over Spencer's lap and giggling.

"Honestly, pregnant women are so dramatic. You say it's fine, but you're shooting daggers with your eyes." She feigned magnanimity, pulling her leg back slightly. "Fine, forget it. You better not warm them for me. I wouldn't want your wife to make you sleep on the couch tonight."

But Spencer didn't let go. He shot a brief glance at me, then leaned closer to Kendall. "Annelise is about to give birth," he said, his voice low. "She's not a child, Kendall."

Just then, Spencer's hand stilled. Kendall's cheeks flushed. She swatted at him playfully. "You bastard! I said warm my feet, not grope me!"

The entire lounge erupted in laughter.

"Kendall, weren't you the one complaining during Truth or Dare that Spencer's abs were nothing special? He's obviously getting his revenge!"

"Hilarious! I remember you said his fingers couldn't even compete with your vibrator! I think he's trying to prove you wrong!"

A hot flush crept up my neck, my heart pounding with rage. I had always known Spencer had a "soulmate," but I never imagined their relationship was this sordid.

I stood up abruptly, one hand supporting my heavy belly, and fought to keep my composure. Their crass jokes hammered in my ears.

When he saw me stand, Spencer's hand moved more insistently, causing Kendall to gasp. Her body began to tremble, her eyes glazing over.

Spencer lifted her chin, a malicious smile tugging at his lips. "This is your punishment for being rude to Annelise," he murmured.

He only retracted his hand when Kendall kicked him hard in protest. Then, he patted her ass through the blanket and nudged her toward me. "Now, apologize to Annelise. Or else I'll have to punish you again."

Kendall pouted, her voice thick with grievance. "See? This is why I said bringing partners along was a bad idea. Look how awkward this is now."

She strolled over, placing a hand on my shoulder with theatrical insincerity. "Annelise, Spencer and I have known each other since we were kids. We know each other's bodies like the back of our own hands."

"If there was really something between us, do you think you'd ever have had a chance with him? Don't worry, even if every other man on earth dropped dead, I wouldn't be interested."

Kendall grinned, her tone laced with irritation. "Satisfied now?"

Suddenly, there was a crisp metallic click. Spencer unpinned a brooch from her sweater and teased, "Do I look that petty to you?"

Kendall gasped, then shot me a triumphant smirk. She wrapped her arms around Spencer's neck and cooed, "How many of my clothes have you ruined? Remember when you gave me this at my place? You said my taste was so much better than hers. You said this was important to her, but it just looks like a piece of junk to me!"

The moment I saw the brooch, my blood ran cold. My emerald brooch. The one I'd designed for our anniversary. He'd given it to her.

That was the last straw. I grabbed the glass of red wine from the table and hurled it at them. "Are you two finished with your disgusting little performance?"