I Made Him a Better Man for Another Woman

“I accept your offer. I’ll finalize my resignation in two days and join your company.”

As soon as I hung up, I took two deep breaths, forcing back the tears.

I glanced at the gift box in my hands and let out a bitter laugh. “Five years together, and this is what I get—betrayal.”

Tomorrow was supposed to be my fifth wedding anniversary with Heston Fitzhugh. This afternoon, we had plans to meet some mutual friends. While changing, a small box tumbled out of the wardrobe.

A while back, Heston’s assistant let it slip that he had spent a fortune on a custom-made gift from Paris. I’d been reminding him about our anniversary for weeks, convinced he was planning a special surprise.

But when I opened the box, I saw a diamond necklace with the engraving on the pendant—H&W.

The glimmering stones almost blinded me, and my heart clenched at the sight.

I didn’t have a large circle of friends, so it didn’t take long to figure out who W was.

Wendolene Tennyson.

Heston’s so-called cousin.

Her parents had died in a car accident, and my mother-in-law, feeling sorry for her, took her in. Wendolene had been living with us for three years now, working as Heston’s secretary.

I had always treated her like family. I never imagined that behind my back, she… she was sleeping with my husband!

“Still not ready?”

Heston pushed the door open. The moment his gaze landed on the box, his expression shifted slightly.

“Explain this.” My voice was cold as I tossed the necklace onto the bed.

“Wendy’s birthday is coming up. It’s a surprise gift for her,” he replied.

While he put the necklace back into the box with a practiced calm expression, a sharp laugh escaped me.

In five years of marriage, he had never put effort into getting me a gift—not for my birthday, not for our anniversaries. And yet, he stood there, right in front of me, saying this.

This was his way of telling me, loud and clear, that he had chosen Wendolene.

Ever since she moved in and started working as his secretary, he had been spending more and more time on business trips. He barely came home. Conversations between us had dwindled to almost nothing. He didn’t ask about my day, didn’t care how I was doing.

I had been so busy running his company that I ignored all the signs.

“Wendy lost her parents at a young age. Her mom told us to take good care of her. Yvonne, she treats you like a sister-in-law. Don’t be so petty.” He softened his tone, trying to pacify me when I didn’t respond.

“So what? Anyone who doesn’t know better would think you bought her a wedding gift,” I shot back, refusing to back down.

At that moment, he seemed to have quickly realized what I was angry about.

“Yvonne, the engraving is connected to the gift I got for you. It must’ve been a mistake before polishing. Do you really doubt me? Don’t you trust my love for you?”

His argument sounded reasonable—so reasonable, in fact, that he had the audacity to accuse me of being the one in the wrong for doubting him.

Then he scoffed. “You think I’m the kind of man who cheats? Wow, Yvonne, you really disappoint me.”

With that, he stormed out, confident that I wouldn’t push any further.

In the past, whenever he got angry, I was always the one to lower my head and make amends.

But not this time.

He left, but I didn’t cancel my plans with my friend Pepper Milburn. I changed into a different outfit.

As I headed out, I passed by Wendolene’s bedroom and slowed my steps.

I had always thought entering someone else’s room was rude, so I had never stepped inside hers. But this time, I wanted to see for myself.

I pushed the door open.

The once simple, sparsely furnished room had become cluttered over the years. On a shelf, I spotted several things that unmistakably belonged to Heston.

Near the bed, men’s shirts and ties were strewn across the floor.

He had told me he always sent his clothes to the dry cleaners.

When I opened the wardrobe, a familiar scent hit me—vanilla perfume.

It was the same scent I had often smelled on him. He used to say it must have come from female employees at the company, and like a fool, I had believed him.

Then my gaze landed on two things inside the wardrobe.

A red lace lingerie set.

And a pair of men’s underwear.

The scent lingering in the air made it clear what had happened here.

I stumbled back, accidentally kicking a trash bin.

Something tumbled out—a box of freaking condoms. Used ones.

Last night, Heston had called to say he was working late at the company. He told me he wouldn’t be coming home.

Yet this morning, he was sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast.

He said he had slept in the guest room so he wouldn’t disturb my sleep.

Technically, he wasn’t lying; he had slept in the guest room—but with a guest beside him.

My hands were steady as I took out my phone and snapped photos of everything.

I needed to have a talk with Wendolene.

Five years of marriage. My husband and his so-called distant cousin owed me an explanation.

Just as I reached for the handle, the door suddenly swung open.

Wendolene stepped in, greeting me so cheerfully.

“Hey, Yvonne, are you heading out?”