I Exposed His Mistress At Our Wedding

I watched his silhouette fade into the distance and chuckled to myself, opting to focus on the crushed honey cake on the floor rather than chase after him. The ruined cake seemed like a metaphor for what lay ahead.

About ten minutes later, Kylian returned after finishing his call, only to see me tossing the cake into the trash. He gave me an apologetic look.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Something urgent cropped up, and you missed out on the cake," he said.

I replied breezily, "It's no big deal; it was dirty anyway. Better to toss it."

He lingered there, hesitating, his gaze betraying his inner turmoil. Seeing this, I inquired, "What's up? Is it something pressing?"

He apologized again, "There’s a problem with a project at work. A colleague is really upset, and I need to deal with it right away."

Then he added, "I’ll bring you another cake later."

His voice carried its usual soothing tone, his demeanor calm. I bantered with him, "Do the folks at work call you by your nickname?"

He tensed slightly, his smile wavered. I waved off the comment playfully, "Just kidding, go on. Don't let me stop you from handling important stuff."

He visibly relaxed as he grabbed his coat and hurried out the door.

Once he left, I flagged down a taxi to follow his car. The driver, a friendly guy named Marcos, was more than happy to trail the car ahead. With a curious glance, he asked, "Is that your guy up there?"

I hesitated before responding, "Boyfriend."

Recognizing my mood, he nodded sagely and reassured me, "No worries, we won’t lose him."