Marriage was His Lie, So I Left

Lulu

I had just reached for my purse to pay the taxi fare when the driver muttered something under his breath, his expression tense as he stared ahead.

“What is it?” I asked, following his gaze.

My heart pounded violently at the sight before me—reporters, photographers, an entire media circus crowding the entrance to the penthouse.

Camera flashes flickered relentlessly, their clicks merging with the voices of journalists calling out questions, hunting for their next headline. Or rather, waiting for me.

Damn it!

I hurriedly slipped a few pound notes into the driver’s hand, muttering a quick thanks before stepping out of the car with a sharp intake of breath. The moment my foot touched the pavement, they pounced.

“Mrs Byrne! Have you seen the photos of your husband and Miss Leia in Saint-Tropez?”

“Is it true that Scott Byrne is having an affair with Leia McCarthy?”

“How do you feel about seeing them so intimate together on the beach?”

I froze. My fists clenched at my sides as I fought to keep my expression neutral.

“I have no comment at this time,” I said evenly, then strode forward.

But the journalists weren’t so easily deterred.

“Mrs Byrne, is it true that you and Scott are having marital problems?”

“Is this the beginning of the end for your marriage?”

The beginning of the end?

The words twisted in my chest like a knife. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe Scott’s empty reassurances, but hearing the media frame it so bluntly felt like a brutal confirmation—everything I had been holding on to might truly be falling apart.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to stay upright, to remain composed. But before I could respond or even think of a suitable answer, a team of penthouse security appeared, blocking the press.

“This way, Mrs Byrne,” one of the guards said, gesturing me inside.

I didn’t hesitate. With hurried steps, I entered the lobby—a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The moment the automatic doors slid shut behind me, I exhaled a shaky breath.

My hand instinctively pressed against my chest, feeling the erratic rhythm of my heart. The sensation was a warning—I had spent far too much energy and emotion on something I wasn’t even certain of yet.

Don’t panic, Lulu.

I quickly made my way up to the penthouse, unlocking the door with trembling fingers before heading straight to the living room. My medication was on the table. With practised ease, I poured myself a glass of water and swallowed the small pill that would help steady my heart.

As the effects of the medication slowly took hold, I let out another long breath before reaching for my phone. Without thinking twice, I dialled Scott’s number.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

No answer.

I ended the call and redialled.

Still nothing.

“Come on, Scott, pick up!” I muttered, frustration bubbling beneath my skin.

I tried again. And again. The result remained the same.

I stared at my phone, my grip tightening. The urge to throw it against the wall was overwhelming, but I could do nothing except sit there, trapped between anger and helplessness.

While I was being ambushed by the press and humiliated by his affair, Scott was lounging on a beach in France with Leia—living as though I didn’t even exist.

I clenched my phone.

Fine, Scott. If this is the game you want to play, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you to come home and face the consequences.

***

The day on July 17, 2024,-came sooner than I expected.

When the penthouse door finally swung open, I was ready. Scott walked in first, looking as unbothered as ever, followed closely by Leia, who, as always, looked effortlessly elegant in her white dress.

I stood in the centre of the room, arms folded across my chest, my expression unreadable.

Scott sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Lulu, you’ve seen the news, haven’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I said lightly. “I even got a complimentary interview from the journalists waiting outside.”

Scott let out a quiet groan. “Lulu, listen to me. It’s all just rumours. There’s nothing going on between me and Leia.”

I arched a brow. “Nothing going on?” I repeated, emphasising every word. “So you’re telling me that the photos of you two holding hands, embracing, and nearly kissing in Saint-Tropez were—what? Edited?”

Leia let out a soft laugh, stepping forward. “Lulu, you shouldn’t believe everything the media says. You know how cruel they can be.”

I met her gaze, my eyes sharp. “Funny you’d say that, Leia. Because in those photos, you looked quite comfortable playing the role of the other woman in my marriage.”

Leia’s smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. Scott, on the other hand, stepped closer, reaching for my hand.

“Lulu, I swear, I haven’t been unfaithful,” he said quietly.

I pulled my hand away, exhaling a slow breath. “Alright. If that’s what you’re saying, then I’ll believe you.”

Leia and Scott exchanged glances, clearly surprised by my reaction—calmer than they had expected.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked towards the bedroom. The moment the door shut behind me, I leaned against it, inhaling deeply.

Did they really think I was a fool?

I knew Scott was lying. I knew there was something between him and Leia.

But if they wanted to play clean, then I would play better.

That night, as I lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached for it, frowning at the name on the screen.

Morpheus.

My heartbeat quickened.

The message was brief—just one sentence. But it was enough to send a jolt through me.

“If you want the truth, meet me tomorrow night at Langley Restaurant. Eight o’clock.”

I sat up straight, staring at the text, my mind racing.

Morpheus…

Curiosity coiled in my chest like a tightening knot.

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat unevenly once more.

What would I learn tomorrow?

He must have found the truth about my mother’s death.