My Husband Loved Me, But Betrayed Me Beyond Repair

Cayden lounged casually in his chair, a playful smile curving his lips as he cupped her chin and kissed her softly.

"Feeling better now?" He asked, his voice low and teasing.

She smiled, her cheeks flushed. "There's another one tonight. Remember to wear something sexy and wait for me at the hotel."

"Got it," Sydney replied shyly, her tone barely above a whisper.

With a contented sigh, she marked his neck once more, leaving a red imprint before she gathered her clothes and walked out of the office, pretending to be angry.

As she passed by her colleagues, they offered their usual comforting words.

But I couldn’t help but feel a bitter laugh bubble up inside.

So, this is how it’s been for the past two years—putting on a façade of discord, while secretly playing their little games right under my nose.

At lunch, Cayden had made sure my food was heated 20 minutes ahead of time and personally delivered it to me.

"Here, try the shrimp I made for you," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "You like light dishes, right? I improved the secret recipe just for you..."

I couldn't help but notice the faint marks on his neck from Sydney, still visible under his collar. My stomach turned.

"I’m not hungry anymore. Let’s go out for some fresh air," I said, pushing the food aside.

From behind, I heard the voice of the secretary. "Miss Kylie, if you don’t want to eat, can I try it?"

Cayden’s expression hardened, but Sydney smiled, unfazed, continuing to play her little game.

"I envy Mr. Jenkins for cooking for you," she said with a sly grin. "I wonder if his cooking is better than my boyfriend’s?"

I saw through her every word, every little scheme, and pushed the lunch box toward her. "You eat it."

I stood up, wanting to get some air. Cayden followed, but I stopped him with a simple gesture.

"You go ahead. I’ll take a walk downstairs."

Making my way to the underground garage, I found his car, and with practiced ease, turned on his dashcam.

I’d never been the type to go through his things. I always believed that trust was essential in a marriage.

But, at that moment, I saw them—Cayden and Sydney—again, this time in the car. I watched as they exchanged intimate moments, unaware of the screen recording.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, hearing their conversation, untouched by the filter of secrecy.

“Did you put this in my pocket? Kylie saw it. If she finds out, you’re done.”

Cayden’s voice was cold, sharp.

The girl’s tone was laced with regret, but there was no real remorse in it. “Last time, I didn’t finish it, and I forgot…”

He said nothing in response, but Sydney was quick to soften his mood. She leaned forward, coaxing him with soft, pleading words.

“I’m sorry. I’ll remember next time, Cayden. It won’t happen again. Don’t be mad, don’t ignore me…”

Her words worked their magic, and before long, the car was filled with the unmistakable sound of their breath, rapid and heavy.

Enough. I closed my eyes, the suffocating truth settling in my chest.

What more proof did I need? It was all right there, clear as day.

I turned away, needing to breathe. I walked downstairs, dialing my father, who was overseas.

“Dad, can you help me change my identity?”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then his surprised voice.

“Did I hear that right? My daughter finally figured it out and wants to join me abroad?”

I took a steady breath before continuing, “I want to be someone else. Kylie in Las Vegas… she’s gone.”

My father’s concern was evident. “Changing your identity isn’t an issue. But your husband loves you so much. He stays by your side all the time. Do you think he’ll let you go that easily?”

A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips. “He doesn’t know.”

I had told him once that if I ever discovered he was lying to me, I would disappear from his world completely.

And now, I have prepared the perfect gift for him—my departure.

It would be a memory he would carry for the rest of his life.

The days passed, eerily calm, like the surface of a lake untouched by a single ripple.

I didn’t quit my job, nor did I make any grand declarations about leaving. I simply applied to have my identity erased, quietly erasing every trace of myself from Las Vegas.

"Baby, you look so tired," he said, concern lacing his voice. "Do you want to go home and rest for a while?"