Or perhaps it was the way he constantly whispered in my ear that Emily had a hard life, praising her for being so strong and independent...
Looking back, I'd been so stupid.
His little betrayals had happened right under my nose. I'd mistaken his lust for Emily as the same neighborly kindness he showed everyone.
But why?
We were each other's first love. Dated for five years, married for three. For eight years, Rhys had always put me first. He handed over his entire salary. He cooked. He cleaned.
He always said he felt guilty he couldn't afford a proper ring or a wedding house. He claimed he wanted to spend his life making it up to me, treating me like a queen.
The year before last, when my grandpa fell ill, Rhys took a month of leave to care for him day and night, staying by his side until he passed peacefully.
Even my parents and three protective older brothers, who'd fiercely opposed our marriage, had eventually softened. They finally admitted I'd married a good man.
How did the man who loved me that much change after Emily moved in for just two months?
I couldn't figure it out. And I didn't want to waste another second trying.