My Husband Fed His Mistress While I Starved

When Bruce returned to the bedroom after settling Nalani, I was already lying in bed, ready to sleep. As he climbed in, I noticed a conspicuous red mark on his neck. It was almost as if Nalani was smirking at me from afar.

In the past, seeing such a mark would have filled me with rage, prompting confrontations with Bruce and Nalani, no matter the fallout. Every confrontation felt like a losing battle. But now, I simply turned my attention back to my phone, indifferent to Bruce’s cold demeanor.

He seemed taken aback by my lack of reaction and appeared to want to say something. His gaze landed on the cast around my leg, and a flicker of concern crossed his face. “Raquel, did you get that injury in the car accident?” he asked.

I was immersed in reading some documents and hadn’t initially caught his words. He patiently repeated the question, and I finally registered what he said. The irony struck me hard; he noticed every blemish Nalani had, yet my plastered leg had been invisible to him.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, it was,” I replied curtly. Bruce's expression softened with a twinge of guilt, which surprised me, but only slightly. As he remained silent, I prepared to return my attention to my phone.

Suddenly, Bruce tried to explain, “I saw you were hurt that day. When you called later, I assumed you were ready to argue, so I didn’t answer. I didn’t realize…” Though this was his first attempt in two years to justify himself, I was beyond caring. His words faded into the background.

Bruce sensed my indifference and seemed momentarily unsettled but managed to compose himself. “When do you need to change your bandages next? I’ll go with you.”

His offer seemed more like an obligation than genuine concern, and I was about to refuse when his phone rang. Nalani’s anxious voice came through the receiver. “Bruce, I… I can’t sleep in unfamiliar places. Could you come over and keep me company? Unless Raquel needs you…”

Without hesitation, Bruce got up from the bed, his voice gentle. “It’s alright. I didn’t realize you’d feel uncomfortable. I’ll come over right now.” He hung up and left the room without another thought.

Unable to suppress a bitter laugh, I recalled how Nalani had flooded me with photos of her and Bruce in countless hotel rooms. No trouble sleeping then, yet now she plays the damsel. That kind of excuse worked on Bruce but not on me. His absence brought me peace.

Unlike before, when Bruce and Nalani were together, and it haunted my nights with endless anticipation for his return, I slept soundly until morning. Upon waking, I found a message from Nalani sent during the night—a photo, showcasing Bruce’s skin marked with signs of their affection.

Suppressing my pain, I saved it as evidence for my divorce proceedings. After getting ready, I checked my phone and realized my meeting with the lawyer was approaching. Despite the challenge, I hurried to dress and prepared to leave.

Just as I was about to step out, Bruce called from the kitchen. “Raquel, heading out so early? Why not have breakfast first?”

His words startled me. After five years of marriage, this was his first offer to cook for me. He had only prepared something for me once, years ago in the hospital—a bowl of chicken soup. Despite my pleas later, he never returned to the kitchen for me. Yet, he’d make anything Nalani wished.

As expected, Nalani appeared behind him, her expression smug. “Raquel, join us! Bruce cooks the best meals. I’m lucky he caters to my cravings.”

Bruce glanced at me, an uneasy look on his face. I looked at the dish in his hands and smiled. “No thanks, you enjoy.”

Bruce seemed puzzled. “You used to beg me to cook for you, but now you don’t want it?”

I gave him a small, knowing smile. “Bruce, I’m allergic to eggs.” His dish was loaded with eggs. Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my keys and walked out the door.