Chapter 2 - What the Dry Cleaning Receipt Was HidingFor two more months, that knot never fully loosened, even as I told myself I was imagining things, that exhaustion was making me paranoid, that a good wife trusted her husband.
Then came the birthday party.
Desmond's 40th. He'd insisted on the pool, the caterers, the DJ, half his office standing around drinking rosé in our backyard while string lights glowed overhead. I'd spent the morning getting the kids fed and settled with a sitter so I could actually enjoy two hours of adult conversation, and I'd found an old navy swimsuit shoved in the back of a drawer — not glamorous, but mine, and I put it on anyway because I refused to hide from my own husband's party.
The second I stepped onto the patio, Desmond and Rowan both turned and burst out laughing, loud enough to cut clean through the music and yank every nearby head in my direction.
"What's so funny?" I asked, my voice shaking with fury I was barely containing.
Desmond wiped a tear of laughter off his cheek, grinning without a shred of shame. "Sorry, babe, couldn't help it. Selene went for a swim earlier, and let's be real — she's obviously light years more stunning in a swimsuit than you could ever hope to be."
He said it loud, right in front of fifty guests, like it was a punchline instead of a knife.
The humiliation hit like a physical blow. And then, standing there in my old navy swimsuit while our entire social circle watched, something shifted inside me. The pain just evaporated, replaced by something ice-cold and completely certain.
I was done.
If Desmond wanted a spectacle for his audience, I was going to give him the show of his life.
I turned on my heel and walked straight toward the DJ booth. Without a word, I pulled the microphone off its stand. Feedback screeched through the speakers, killing the music instantly and dropping the whole backyard into stunned silence. Every single person turned to look at me.
"Everyone, can I have your attention for a moment," I said, my voice ringing clear and steady through the surround sound. "I'd like to propose a toast to my husband for his 40th birthday. I need everyone to listen very closely."
May you like
Across the pool, Desmond's smug grin dissolved into something close to panic. He shoved past two of his coworkers, scrambling toward the stage, but he was already too late.
"My dearest Desmond," I said, holding his gaze while fifty guests held their collective breath. "There's a secret I've been carrying for far too long, and tonight feels like the right night to finally put it down."
