Mom's Murderer was My Husband's Mistress

Fallyn’s POV

Three days later, under my firm insistence, Garth finally helped me complete the discharge procedures and brought me home.

I had already made an agreement with that man I called earlier—ten days from now, I would leave, taking the divorce papers with me.

Once we arrived home, Garth treated me with the utmost tenderness.

Anything concerning me, he handled without complaint. He even went so far as to personally make meals for me in the kitchen.

For three years of marriage, he had done this almost every single day.

I used to believe it was because he loved me. Now I realized it was nothing more than a carefully spun illusion—a false dream he wove for me to live in.

When I thought of my mom and my baby’s tragic deaths, all I was left with inside was a cold emptiness, a numb desolation.

I said nothing, and Garth didn’t seem to mind.

Once everything was tidied away, he gently pulled the covers over me.

The very next second, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and a flash of urgency crossed his face.

“Honey, something’s come up at the company. I’ll go take care of it. You just rest, okay?” he said quickly.

Before I could answer, he had already turned and hurried out the door.

I watched his car disappear down the road, and then I turned and went into the study.

Over the past three years, I had saved countless photos of us together.

Now, one by one, I deleted them all.

After that, I began typing out the divorce agreement word by word.

When I was done, I noticed something strange—a hidden folder in the computer’s file library.

My chest tightened. On impulse, I tried opening it with Heisley’s birthday.

It unlocked immediately.

Inside were hundreds of thousands of photos and countless videos—every single one of Heisley.

From when she was fifteen up until now, every stage of her life had been carefully stored by Garth.

There was even a detailed list of her preferences: what she liked, what she hated—all recorded with absolute clarity.

During our three-year marriage, every time Garth said he was away on a business trip, he had actually been with Heisley.

And I had never once suspected.

The Telegram icon was still open in the corner of the screen. Almost without thinking, I clicked it.

At the top of his pinned chats, there was only one contact. Just one.

And it wasn’t me.

I opened it, and the entire chat history was filled with Garth and Heisley’s messages—three years’ worth, without a single gap.

In their most recent conversation, he told her that everything had been taken care of.

She replied.

[If Fallyn finds out, will she be angry? I already owe her so much, to begin with. And now, she’ll probably hate me to death, Garth.]

Garth comforted her with a few patient words at first. But then his tone turned cold and merciless.

[I’ve already kept her as my wife. No matter what, she should be satisfied with that.]

At that point, I could no longer hold back my tears.

Clutching the divorce papers tightly in my hands, I swore to myself, ‘I’ll gladly let Heisley be his wife. But they will pay the price for two lives!’

The next second, a voice came from outside the study.

“Honey? What are you doing in here?”