My Drunk Wife Called My Best Friend 'Honey'

"So now you're blaming me for betraying you? What about you? Have you ever stopped to think about what you did wrong?"

"When I was lonely and couldn't take it anymore, where were you? When I was scared, where were you?"

Valerie had always been good at twisting things in her favor. She was the one who'd done wrong, yet she always found a way to come out clean.

Not this time. This time, there was no way out.

My eyes were bloodshot, the kind of red that only came from a rage beyond reason.

"So this is what you were wearing when you crawled into Morris's bed to please him, huh?"

When I was drunk earlier, when I watched the surveillance footage, she'd been wearing that same sheer dress to satisfy herself and entertain Morris.

I dug my nails so deep into my palms that they broke the skin. Valerie didn't even flinch at my anger.

"Oh, so that's what you're jealous about!"

"Fine then. Come on!"

She sprawled across the couch without a shred of shame, spread her legs, and put on an expression like she was waiting to be taken.

I felt a humiliation unlike anything I'd ever known. Before I could even react, she snapped at me impatiently.

"Well? Come on! I'm giving it to you right now. Hurry up."

To drive her point home, she reached up and tore away the last scrap of fabric covering her, baring skin that was pale and smooth—except for the marks. Bite marks. Bruises. Left by another man's hands and mouth.

I didn't feel a shred of desire. I felt sick.

"Ugh—"

I bolted to the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, retching for what felt like an eternity.

My body shook uncontrollably with fury. Only then did I truly understand just how shameless and reckless a spoiled wife could become.

When I finally came back out, Valerie had already changed her clothes. She stood by the door with a packed suitcase.

"Nathaniel, I don't want to fight. Let's just take some time apart to cool off."

She didn't wait for me to respond. She shoved the door open, walked out, and slammed it behind her—all in one fluid motion.

I pulled out a cigarette and stepped onto the balcony. I'd barely lit it and taken the first drag when I looked down and saw Valerie sprinting toward Morris at full speed.

They clung to each other like they wanted to melt into one person.

So much for "cooling off." It was just an excuse to spend the night at Morris's place.

By that point, my heart had stopped hurting for her. It had gone quiet. Terrifyingly quiet.

Just before dawn, Morris sent me a video.

The moment I tapped it open, I heard the filthy sounds of a woman and a man panting together.

Then came the image I would despise for the rest of my life. Morris had thrown away every last shred of brotherhood. He'd declared war.

"See that, Nathaniel?"

"You've beaten me so many times. But this time? I won."

"The woman you love most is underneath me. Look how shameless she is. How pathetic."

"Ha Haha! Are you furious? Too bad. The angrier you get, the happier I am."

But my heart was still water. The rage from last night was gone, every last trace of it.

A mocking smile tugged at my lips. "Morris, that woman is yours. I'm done with her. Have fun."

"Oh, and one more thing—don't bother coming in to work tomorrow. You're fired. If you're so eager to wear someone else's castoffs, then wear them all you want. A woman like Valerie isn't worth another second of my love."

I was about to hang up when Valerie's furious voice cut through the line. "Nathaniel! How dare you talk about me like that? Fine. You want a divorce? I'll make sure you're left with nothing."

I never took Valerie's threats seriously.

Not until that afternoon, when I was in the middle of a board meeting with the shareholders. The conference room doors swung open, and in walked Valerie—flanked by Morris and a team of lawyers.

They strolled in like they owned the place, not a hint of respect in their eyes.