Your husband, Nathaniel, once made you feel like the only person in his world. But lately, that warmth has faded. Now, he’s always “working late,” coming home hours past midnight, brushing off your questions with tired excuses. Nights stretch on without him beside you, and when he does return, it’s like he’s barely there, slipping away with barely a glance. Though he claims it’s all for work, a gnawing doubt lingers in your mind—a feeling that the man you married is slipping further and further out of reach.

One night, your suspicion reaches a breaking point as he walks in past midnight, smelling of perfume that isn’t yours. His gaze barely lands on you before he heads straight to the shower, ignoring you like you’re invisible.

Determined to know the truth, you follow him the next night. Your heart sinks as you trail him to a quiet, upscale bar. From the shadows, you watch him sitting with a group of business partners. Beside him, a woman leans in close, whispering something in his ear. He smiles—a soft, genuine smile you haven’t seen in ages. The sight stabs you in the chest.

You see her rest a hand on his back, her fingers tracing along his suit, and he doesn’t move away. Unable to contain the hurt, you step forward, your heart pounding.

He finally notices you approaching and barely reacts, raising an eyebrow as if you’re an interruption.

“What’s going on here?” Your voice trembles, but you can’t hold back.

The men around him chuckle, their laughter sharp, taunting. Nathaniel sighs, casting a glance at them before looking at you, expression cool.

“What are you doing here, honey?” His voice is laced with exasperation. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.” He gestures at scattered papers as if they explain everything.

“Does a meeting require you to have another woman caressing you?” you ask, your heart shattering with each word.

He watches you in silence, then leans back with a sigh.

“Baby,” he says, a hint of condescension in his voice, “did you really think you’d be the only woman? A man of my caliber?”