He blinked, then smiled that soft, practiced smile. “Of course, baby. You’re my wife. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
I took a slow breath, feeling my fingers curl into fists at my sides. “I heard about someone,” I said quietly. “A woman you loved before me. A woman you never really let go of.”
My eyes locked onto his. “Have you let her go now?”
He froze. Didn’t even breathe. And in that pause, I already knew the answer.
His hand went stiff, the veins in his knuckles showing white. But in the next breath, he forced a soft smile, pretending calm like nothing had happened.
“Of course I’ve moved on,” he said smoothly. “That was years ago. We broke up and never spoke again. She’s part of my past now.”
My throat went dry. He said it so easily… no pause, no flicker of guilt. Just another lie dressed up like the truth.
When he reached out to touch my cheek, I turned my head away. It was automatic, but it made something dark flash across his face.
“Who told you that? Is that what’s been bothering you?”
I opened my mouth, trying to decide whether to tell him but his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and for a moment, something unreadable crossed his eyes. Then he answered.