PROLOGUE
Tonight, I couldn’t sleep at all.
The baby was quiet, resting peacefully inside me, yet my own body refused to surrender to rest. After the exhausting yet joyful baby shower earlier today, I should have drifted off easily, but I didn’t. My hand instinctively moved to my swollen belly, gently rubbing the curve. In just three months, I would finally be holding our baby, the little one we had been waiting for.
Adrian had fallen asleep first. His mouth was slightly open, a sign of deep slumber. I smiled faintly, feeling warmth as I looked at him. He must be exhausted. As a Vice President of Operations at a construction company, he spent much of his time on project sites, often traveling for weeks at a time. And yet, with everything on his plate, he still made time for this weekend.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand. Usually, when I couldn’t sleep, I scrolled through my social media, checking news or just catching up on the latest updates. Suddenly, Adrian’s phone lit up. I glanced over.
It was almost twelve at night, who would be messaging him this late?
Hesitant, I picked up his phone. We respected each other’s privacy, but there was no rule against checking each other’s phones. And it turned out to be just a message from the work group chat. I was about to put the phone back, but somehow my fingers lingered, scrolling through chats, opening sports group messages, office conversations.
Everything seemed normal.
Then I opened the gallery. Mostly pictures of company projects, and the latest ones were candid shots of me from earlier today, taken quietly when I wasn’t looking. My heartwarmed, but my curiosity didn’t stop there. I scrolled through a folder that seemed to hold nothing but ordinary office documents.
But then one file made me freeze. Its name was simple—Phoebe. The moment I read it, I felt a sudden squeeze in my chest. A name once mentioned in passing long ago, buried in the past.
My hands trembled as I opened the file. Inside were records of conversations between Adrian and her. Their chats were neatly stored, whether intentionally or not, I didn’t know. My eyes scanned the messages, and my heart shattered. Sweet words, playful teasing, promises that could no longer be dismissed as mere nostalgia. And two months ago, a meeting at a hotel.
Tears streamed down uncontrollably. My hands were trembling as I held his phone, but I forced myself to keep reading. There was even information showing that he had sent her money. Apparently, she was in debt, and Adrian had helped her.
After forwarding the file to my own phone, I couldn’t hold myself together any longer. I broke down, sobs tearing out of me. Adrian stirred, then immediately sat up in alarm when he saw me shaking, tears pouring down my face.
“Elena? What’s wrong?” His voice was hoarse, laced with panic, his eyes wide as they searched mine.
“Are you hurt?”
I shook my head as my trembling hand struck his chest.
“You. You cheated on me.”
He stilled, his expression unravelling into disbelief.
“What are you talking about?” He reached for my hand, but I jerked away.
The sobs tore through me even harder. “I know, Adrian. I know about Phoebe.”
“Elena—”
“Fuck you, Adrian. How? How could you—”
Adrian pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. “I’m sorry, Elena.”
I struggled against him, pushing at his chest, but he only held me tighter, as if letting go meant losing me entirely. I broke down against his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Adrian stroked my back, trying—failing—to soothe me.
When I finally managed to breathe, I whispered, “I want a divorce.”
Adrian’s arms loosened. He pulled back just enough to grip my upper arms, his eyes locked onto mine.
“What are you saying, Elena?” His voice was rough, caught between confusion and dread, yet he knew. He had to.
“I want a separation. I want a divorce.” I repeated, steadier this time.
“No. No, you can’t.” Adrian shook his head, almost violently.
“I read your chats with her!” I screamed, my voice fracturing under the weight of betrayal.
