My Husband's Betrayal on Our Tenth Anniversary

Anastacia’s voice dripped with smugness as she flaunted her wealth.

“A necklace is nothing,” she declared. “My boyfriend was at that auction too, and he bought me an entire set of emerald jewelry.”

I stepped closer to the corridor, catching sight of her stretching out her left hand. On her ring finger, an emerald the size of a pigeon egg sparkled obnoxiously under the light.

“Wow, Anastacia, your emerald is stunning!” One of the women exclaimed. “That must’ve cost a fortune!”

Anastacia shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. “Not really. The whole set cost only 900 million.”

The collective gasp that followed could have shattered glass.

“Nine hundred million?” someone whispered in awe. “That’s way more than what President Barnes spent on Penelope’s necklace!”

Anastacia nodded with exaggerated nonchalance. “Of course, it is. But what can I say? My boyfriend loves me enough to buy whatever I like, no matter the price.”

The women giggled and probed further. “Anastacia, who’s your boyfriend? Is he a billionaire? When will you introduce him to us?”

Anastacia’s tone turned dismissive. “He’s very prestigious, so meeting him isn’t convenient. But tonight, he’s taking me to the newly opened French restaurant for dinner. Just check my feed later; I’ll post everything there.”

Her words lingered in my mind as I made my way to the garage, where Killian was waiting in the car.

He greeted me with his trademark charming smile. “Ready for dinner, honey?”

I slid into the seat beside him. “Do you have work tonight?”

He shook his head, looking almost offended. “Of course not! I missed our anniversary, and I’m not letting work ruin this evening too. I cleared my entire schedule just to enjoy this meal with you.”

Halfway through the drive, however, Killian abruptly asked the driver to pull over.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “The branch manager just messaged me—there’s an urgent matter I have to handle. I’m afraid dinner will have to wait.”

I forced a smile, keeping my tone light. “I understand. Work comes first. I won’t eat without you.”

Relief washed over his face as he smiled back. “You’re the best, honey. I knew you’d understand.”

He hesitated, then added, “My car needs to turn around for the office. Could you take a taxi back on your own?”

I nodded, meeting his gaze, but his eyes darted away guiltily.

“Okay,” I said softly, watching him breathe a sigh of relief.

He kissed my forehead softly. "Honey, I’ll definitely come back early," he promised.

I simply smiled, stepped out of the car, and watched as his Maybach sped off—not toward the office, but toward the French restaurant.

That night, Killian didn’t return home until two in the morning. He moved quietly, tie in hand, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a hint of disheveled carelessness.

When he turned on the light, his expression shifted to surprise as he found me sitting in the living room, wide awake.

He had once proudly declared at public events, "The true measure of a man isn’t just in his success, but in coming home to a light that’s been left on for him."

But tonight, faced with that very light, his first reaction was panic.

“H-honey, why are you still up?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

I picked up a small black box and held it out. “The maid found this while cleaning today. She wasn’t sure what to do with it, so she asked me to take a look.”

The box was worn, the edges frayed, and its surface dulled with age.

Killian’s slightly drunken gaze cleared, his eyes sharpening as they landed on the box. “This! This is from our college days, when we were dating!”

He hurried over, his excitement palpable, and sat beside me. Eagerly, he opened the box, revealing a collection of small, sentimental items—fragments of our shared history.

“This stack of movie tickets,” he said, picking them up reverently, “these are from every movie we watched together. I couldn’t bear to throw a single one away.”

He chuckled, a wistful smile crossing his face. “I remember one of those movie dates so clearly. I was so nervous. I wanted to hold your hand but didn’t dare, so when I finally did, I couldn’t focus on the movie at all.”