I Made My Fiancé's Mistress My Bridesmaid

I used to think Nathaniel was the most careful man I'd ever met.

Especially around other women. He was stricter about it than I was.

There was a PR manager at the Prescott Group named Sienna Caldwell. He complained about her constantly.

"She found another excuse to come to my office today," he'd said once, loosening his tie on the couch. "Third time this week. Something about press releases."

"Maybe she actually needed something."

"In a skirt that short?" He rolled his eyes. "She dresses like she's going to a club, not a board meeting. It's embarrassing, Audrey."

"Don't be so harsh. She's just doing her job."

"You're too nice." He pulled me into his lap. "That's why I married you."

I'd laughed and kissed him.

Now I wanted to go back in time and slap that version of me across the face.

---

On Valentine's Day, he was up before seven.

"Big meeting." He held up two ties. "Blue or gray?"

"On Valentine's Day?"

"Investors don't care about Hallmark holidays, babe." He winced. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

I took the blue one from his hand. "It's fine. Work comes first."

"See? This is why you're perfect."

I looped the silk around his neck. Over, under, through. I tugged the knot snug against his throat. For one second I pulled a little too tight.

He coughed. "Easy."

"Sorry." I smoothed it flat. "Go get them."

The second the door shut, I was in the bedroom pulling on jeans and an old black coat he'd never seen. I ordered a car and told the driver to wait at the corner.

"Follow the silver Range Rover," I said when I got in. "Not too close."

The driver met my eyes in the mirror. "Husband?"

"Something like that."

He didn't ask again.

---

Nathaniel didn't drive to the office.

He drove to the Upper East Side and parked outside a limestone building with a doorman in a long gray coat.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

A woman stepped out in a white wool coat, blonde hair pinned up, red lips. Nathaniel jumped out of the car before the doorman could move. He opened the passenger door for her himself.

Then he bent down and kissed her.

I pressed closer to the window.

I knew that face. I'd seen it at the company Christmas party, smiling at me over a glass of champagne.

Sienna Caldwell.

The woman who dressed like she was going to a club. The woman who embarrassed him.

I laughed once, quietly. The driver glanced back.

"You okay, ma'am?"

"Never better." I sat back. "Turns out my husband really can't stand his coworker. He hates her so much he's spending Valentine's Day with her."

---

They went to a jewelry store on Fifth Avenue. I watched through the glass from the sidewalk. A clerk laid a diamond necklace on black velvet. Nathaniel lifted it and fastened it around Sienna's neck. She touched it and turned to him, glowing.

After that, lunch at a French place with white tablecloths. I took a table at the café across the street and ordered a latte I never touched.

At 12:40, I called him.

Through the restaurant window, I watched his phone light up on the table. He looked down at it. Sienna said something. He smiled at her.

And hung up on me.

Two minutes later, my phone buzzed.

**Nate: In a meeting, babe. Can't talk. Call you later. ❤️**

I stared at that little red heart for a long time.

So the Prescott Group held its meetings in French restaurants now. With wine. And a female coworker tucked under one arm.

A waitress stopped by my table. "Can I warm that up for you?"

"No, thanks." I didn't look up from the window. "It's already cold."

---

After lunch, a movie. After the movie, a boutique hotel on a quiet street in SoHo.

I watched them walk through the revolving door with his hand on the small of her back.

I was out of the car before I'd made a decision. My heels hit the pavement hard. I could already picture it. My palm cracking across his face. My fingers buried in that perfect blonde hair, yanking her down to the marble.

I made it to the hotel steps.

Then I stopped.

And then what?

He'd cry. He'd swear it was a mistake. She'd play the victim. And in two weeks they'd be right back here, just more careful.

No.

I stepped back onto the sidewalk. My hands were shaking, so I shoved them in my pockets until they stopped. Then I took out my phone.

Click. Them walking in. Click. His hand on her back.

I went inside and found a seat in the corner of the lobby, half-hidden behind a tall plant. I took a picture of the elevator display. Floor nine. I asked the bellhop, sweet as anything, what time checkout was for the suites on nine.

"Two p.m. tomorrow, ma'am. Are you a guest?"

"Not yet."

I sat there for three hours. My stomach churned the whole time.

---

At six, the elevator opened.

Sienna came out first, her arm hooked through Nathaniel's, the diamond necklace sparkling against her collarbone. He was laughing at something she'd said.

They crossed the lobby.

Halfway to the door, Sienna turned her head.

She looked straight at the corner where I sat.

She held my gaze for one full second. Then the corner of her red mouth curled up.

She smiled at me.

Then she turned back to Nathaniel and leaned into his shoulder like nothing had happened.

My blood went cold.

She knew. Maybe not that I was here today. But she knew about me. And she wasn't scared at all.

---

Nathaniel came home at nine with a dozen red roses and a small velvet box.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

Inside the box were pearl earrings. Nice ones. A lot smaller than a diamond necklace.

"They're beautiful," I said.

"Not as beautiful as you." He sank onto the couch and loosened the blue tie I'd knotted that morning. "God, what a day. Back-to-back meetings. I didn't even have time to eat."

"Nothing at all?"

"Not a bite. They kept me in that conference room till dark."

I thought of the white tablecloths. The two hours. The way he'd fed her a bite of his dessert with his own fork.

"You must be exhausted."

"I was." He reached for me and pulled me down against his chest. His shirt smelled like vanilla and crushed flowers. "But the second I saw you, it all went away."

My throat tightened. Bile crawled up the back of it.

I swallowed it down and pressed my cheek against his heartbeat. Steady. Calm. A man with nothing to fear.

"I'll heat something up for you," I murmured.

"You're an angel."

I walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet so he wouldn't hear me breathing. Then I opened my phone and looked at the photos one more time.

Floor nine. Checkout at two tomorrow.

His phone buzzed on the couch behind me. Then again. Then a third time.

"Who's texting you so late?" I called.

The silence lasted one beat too long.

"Just work, babe."

I smiled at my reflection in the dark window.

Sure, Nate. Just work.

Then why did Sienna Caldwell just send me a friend request?