His name was David Miller. He was serving overseas in the military.
A righteous man, and the type who despised adulterous women.
I curved my lips into a smile.
This would be interesting.
Afterward, Ryan began showing open disdain toward me.
He used “helping Monica through postpartum depression” as his excuse to stay at her house.
One night, while I was sleeping deeply, Monica bombarded me with messages.
Half-asleep, I opened my phone—
and what I saw made my eyes burn red.
In the video, Monica wore barely anything, hanging off Ryan’s body.
There were indecent things scattered across the floor.
My vision went black.
They had finally crossed the line.
I didn’t even have the energy to be sad or angry.
Silently, I saved the video.
Then another message came.
“I was just feeling down after giving birth, so Ryan came to help me. Tell me, who do you think he really loves?”
Her words were a blatant provocation.
Clenching my fists, I sent the video to David.
“If you don’t come back soon, someone’s going to steal your wife.”
The next day, at the company gala,
I wore a beautiful gown.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward me—
including Ryan’s.
Monica followed his gaze and met my eyes.