I Exposed My Fiancé’s Infidelity Publicly

Three years into our relationship, I noticed something new on my boyfriend’s chest—a rose tattoo.

Curiosity got the better of me. “Does it mean something?”

The light in Jude’s eyes dimmed. His voice came out rough. “I was young and stupid when I got it.”

But Jude Woods—heir to a prestigious family—wasn’t the type people called impulsive. He had always been exceptional, a model of integrity. I’d never heard a single story about him having some rebellious phase.

Not until later.

Jude postponed our wedding to fly overseas for an art exhibition at the Louvre. The way he looked at that brilliant female artist made everything click in an instant. Her name was Viviana Perry.

So that was it. The rose inked over his heart was never about youthful impulse. It was a quiet tribute to someone else.

The first time I noticed that rose, right over his heart, I reached out and traced it. “When did you get this? I’ve never seen it before.”

Jude paused, his expression cooling. “High school,” he said, his tone distant. “Just a dumb act of rebellion.”

Jude? Rebellious? Everything I’d ever heard said he’d been disciplined his entire life. Top grades, a spotless résumé, early admission to Harvard. A prodigy—detached, brilliant.

I pushed a little. “Why a rose? Are you into them or something?”

Jude hesitated before answering. “Not really. It was just a random choice.”

The exchange clearly put a damper on his mood. He got up not long after and took a cold shower.

I sighed, rubbing my sore back. Jude was never really enthusiastic about intimacy. In the three years we’d been together, we’d mostly just kissed and held each other.

There had only been two exceptions. Once on our first anniversary. And then tonight, after our engagement party.

I knew Jude wasn’t naturally passionate—and I wasn’t dying for constant sex either. But for someone so reserved, he had surprising stamina. That first time, he kept me up all night, until I could barely walk the next morning. After that, I never initiated again.

But tonight was different. It was our engagement night, and Jude had been drinking. So when he started unbuttoning his shirt, I wasn’t shocked. Still, I didn’t expect it to be over so quickly.

That rose tattoo kept nagging at the back of my mind, leaving a slow, creeping unease.

After getting ready for bed, Jude climbed in and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, pressing a soft kiss to my neck. “Goodnight, darling.”

I closed my eyes slowly, praying it was just my imagination running wild.