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My Parking Spot, His Secret Lover's Alibi Novel Cover

My Parking Spot, His Secret Lover's Alibi

Returning to her underground parking lot, a woman finds her husband Victor Blake has slanted his car across her designated slot. While waiting for him to move it, she discovers a viral internet post where a man asks how to hide an affair from his wife. The top advice suggests blocking the wife's parking space to buy time for a mistress to escape. When Victor arrives claiming he was simply reserving her spot, the chilling parallels force her to face a dark reality.
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Chapter 3

It was a client. There was an emergency that needed my immediate attention.

I had no choice but to drop what I was doing and rush back to the office.

By the time I finished troubleshooting, three hours had flown by. When I returned to the parking garage, Victor's poorly parked car had mysteriously been straightened out.

I stared at his car for a long moment before heading upstairs.

At dinner, Victor went all out, preparing three dishes and a soup. He eagerly scooped a bowl of soup for me.

"Home so late? You're working yourself ragged every day. It breaks my heart."

Staring at my bowl of soup, I hesitated before finally speaking up. "My phone is charging. Can I borrow yours to make a quick call?"

"Sure," he said, putting down his spoon and handing it over without a second thought. "The passcode is your birthday."

I took the phone, unlocked it, and went out to the balcony to make the call.

Right before bed, I walked out of the bathroom, drying my hair with a towel.

Victor was leaning against the headboard, looking at his phone. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

As I looked closer, I could tell his eyes were full of tenderness. It was exactly the way he used to look at me when we were dating.

I feigned curiosity. "What are you watching? You look so happy."

His fingers swiped rapidly across the screen, turning the phone off.

"Nothing. Just a few funny videos. Pretty hilarious."

In the middle of the night, as I listened to the steady breathing beside me, I slowly opened my eyes.

Carefully shifting out of bed, I grabbed his phone from the nightstand and slipped into the bathroom.

I entered the passcode. The screen gave a slight shudder, displaying "Incorrect Passcode".

My breath caught.

Refusing to believe it, I entered it again, making absolutely sure I hadn't made a typo. It was still incorrect.

I stared blankly at the screen, my heart sinking like a stone.

Victor had secretly changed it.

Unwilling to give up, I tried several of his go-to passcodes. Every single one failed.

The phone locked down for one minute. That brief 60-second countdown felt longer than a year.

The moment the timer ended, I tried another combination. It was still incorrect.

The lockout penalty jumped from one minute to a full hour.

I just sat there. Memories of our past flashed through my mind like a movie reel, contrasting sharply with our fracturing relationship.

When it finally let me try again, a specific string of numbers flashed through my mind out of nowhere.

My fingertips trembled as I punched them in. The screen lit up, and the phone was unlocked.

At that moment, I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath.

I lay back in bed, having no idea how I survived the rest of the night.

I didn't manage to drift off until dawn. By the time I woke up, the sun was high in the sky.

Victor had already made breakfast.

After a quick wash, I sat down at the dining table.

He brought over a cup of soy milk. Seeing my face, he frowned with deep concern. "Look at those dark circles. Didn't sleep well last night?"

My head was splitting, so I just gave him a vague murmur.

Victor sighed and pushed a plate with a sandwich toward me.

"Work must be getting too stressful. Why don't you just quit and stay home? It's not like I can't afford to support you."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me, leaving a lump in my throat.

"It's just… a friend is going through a rough patch," I said, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite while keeping my eyes locked on him.

"She caught her husband red-handed. He was keeping a young mistress on the side. Victor, do you think all men do that kind of stuff once they make some money?"

He let out a soft chuckle and took a sip of his soy milk. "Stop worrying about other people's drama. You're just exhausted, Jane. Don't listen to that toxic gossip. It'll only ruin your mood. You'd be better off spending that energy eating the sandwich I bought you."

The club sandwich was my absolute favorite. But for some reason, it tasted completely off today.

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