He Tore My Heart Apart

Three hours of emergency surgery had left me drained, but a warm satisfaction spread through me as I watched the patient's vitals stabilize on the monitor.

"Plans for the rest of the day?" Dr. Sora Barn asked, her eyes crinkling at the corners—the only indication of her smile beneath the mask.

"Actually..." I glanced at the clock on the wall and felt a flutter of excitement. "It's my third wedding anniversary. I'm heading home early to surprise Jaxon."

"The rising political star," Sora teased gently. "Well, don't let me keep you. Go celebrate."

I hurried through post-op procedures, my mind already racing ahead to the evening I'd planned. Jaxon had been so consumed with his campaign lately, we'd barely had time together. Tonight would be different. I'd make sure of it.

My key turned silently in the lock. I'd planned to set everything up before he got home from his office. But as I eased the door open, I heard voices.

Jaxon was home early too.

A woman's laugh—high and tinkling—drifted from our bedroom. My heart stuttered. I recognized that laugh. Olivia. My best friend since medical school. She'd been my rock through residency, the maid of honor at our wedding.

I told myself there must be an explanation. Perhaps they were planning something for me? A surprise party for our anniversary?

The champagne bottle grew heavy in my hand as I moved silently across our marble foyer. Our bedroom door stood slightly ajar, and through the crack, I saw them.

Olivia's bare back, her dark hair cascading down it. Jaxon's hands on her hips. Both of them naked on our bed—the bed where I'd slept beside my husband for three years. And draped around Olivia's shoulders was my silk robe, the one Jaxon had given me on our honeymoon in Bali.

The champagne bottle slipped from my fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet apartment.

They froze, then turned toward the door. Olivia's face registered shock, then something that looked disturbingly like satisfaction. Jaxon's expression barely changed at all.

"Jaxon?" My voice came out as a strangled whisper. "Olivia? What... what is this?"

Olivia made a show of pulling my robe tighter around herself. "Alice! You're home early."

A scream built in my throat, tearing its way out. "How could you? Both of you! HOW COULD YOU?"

Jaxon stood, not bothering to cover himself, his face a mask of cold irritation rather than shame. "Alice, you're making a scene."

"A scene?" I choked on the words. "I find my husband in bed with my best friend and I'm making a scene?"

"This was inevitable," Jaxon said, reaching for his discarded pants. "Surely you didn't think our marriage was about love?"

The words hit me like physical blows. "What are you talking about?"