Chapter one

It felt good to finally be home after a long day. Esther balanced the grocery bag on her hip as she opened the front door. 

The house was too quiet.

For a moment, she thought maybe Peter wasn’t home. Her chest loosened at the thought but then she heard it.

At first, she convinced herself it was nothing. Maybe the pipes, or maybe Peter was on a business call. But then came the sound again: a very low, feminine, breathless voice.

A moan.

“Ohh…yesss..mmm, harder baby….” The moan followed a sound that made her heart ache as she walked further.

Her blood ran cold.

Esther whispered under her breath in denial, with a trembling voice. “That's not my husband …oh God, noooo”

She stood still in the doorway, her heart pumping so fast that it could ring in her ears.

As she walked closer, her footsteps echoed in the too-quiet hallway, her heels clicking against the tiles.

“Probably it’s the sound of the television,” she told herself quickly, clinging to hope. “Maybe he left it on.” 

But her chest already knew the truth.

The sounds grew louder in a rhythmic tone, sharper and faster.

Her stomach twisted. “No…someone else is in my bed,” her mind screamed in panic, nausea burning the back of her throat. 

Another sound pierced through the silence. Peter's voice was so deep, rough, and intimate. The same gentle voice that used to murmur her name in tender moments. 

“Yeah…you like that, don’t you? Say it louder.” 

The answering cry sliced through Esther like claws.

“Yes, Peter! Stroke me harder, baby… yeah, I love it!” The woman moans. 

Esther's knees nearly gave out.

“That’s Peter. My Peter,” she thought bitterly, her nails digging into her palms. “No… he wouldn’t do that. Not here. Not in this house.”

Her hand involuntarily covered her mouth, muffling the sob clawing its way up her throat.

Still, she moved forward, her body trembling, her feet dragging toward the truth she dreaded.

The bedroom door was slightly open. Light rays spilled into the hallway, daring her to look. 

“Don’t do it,” she scolded herself silently, pressing her palms against the doorframe. Turn back, Esther. Pretend you never heard. Pretend you never heard. Pretend it isn’t reall.”

But her shaking fingers pushed the door open anyway.

And there they were.

Peter stood beside the bed, his shirt carelessly unbuttoned, while Maria sat on the edge of the mattress wrapped in the silk robe Esther had left there that morning.

Peter’s tie lay on the floor, and the bedsheets Esther had carefully arranged before leaving were crumpled beneath them.

The faint scent of Esther’s favorite perfume still lingered in the room, mixed with the lotion she used every night.

The grocery bag slipped from Esther’s trembling hands.

Apples rolled across the polished floor.

For a moment, the world around her fell silent.

Her chest tightened until she could barely breathe.

“Peter…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Then her eyes shifted to the woman beside him.

“Maria?”

Her best friend.

The woman she had laughed with, cried with, and trusted for years.

The woman who had stood beside her at her wedding.

Tears blurred Esther’s vision.

“No…” she whispered, taking an unsteady step backward. “Not you too.”

Her heart shattered.

She could have accepted another woman.

But not Maria.

Not the one who always called her sister.

Peter slowly turned toward her. His expression wasn’t filled with guilt or panic.

Only annoyance.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded coldly.

Esther stared at him in disbelief.

“What am I doing here?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “This is my home… my bedroom.”

Maria folded her arms and smiled without the slightest trace of shame.

“I told you she’d come home early,” she said casually before looking directly at Esther. “I guess the surprise is over.”

Esther’s knees almost gave way.

Every memory she had shared with Maria flashed before her eyes.

The birthday celebrations.

The late-night conversations.

The promises that they would always be there for each other.

Every one of them had been a lie.

Peter let out a cold laugh.

“Your home?” he said mockingly. “Don’t make me laugh, Esther. Everything in this house belongs to me. The walls, the furniture, this bedroom… even the bed you’re crying over.”

His words pierced deeper than any knife.

“So that’s all I am to him?” Esther thought bitterly. “Not his wife… just someone he was forced to tolerate.”

She looked at him through her tears.

“I’m your wife, Peter,” she whispered desperately. “I’m carrying our children.”

Peter’s expression hardened.

“My wife?” he scoffed. “You were nothing more than an arrangement. Don’t mistake a contract for love.”

Maria giggled, trailing her nails across his chest as if Esther wasn’t even real.

“ I’m sorry you had to find out this way bestie.”

“I’m asking you one last time. What are you doing here!!” Peter barked harshly, his voice heavy with disrespect. 

“After everything I sacrificed for you, is this how you are going to pay me?” Esther forced out, her voice shaking so badly that she barely recognized it.

Peter laughed, cruel and mocking. “At least I paid you.Don’t make me laugh Esther. 

This house belongs to me. Everything you see here belongs to me. Don’t be a fool.”

Maria slipped her hand around Peter’s arm and smiled. “You should have known Peter stopped loving you”

“Looks like you finally know the truth.”

Her chest burned like fire.

“I’m your wife, Peter,” she whispered desperately.

“I never wanted this marriage Esther, he spat, his glare cold as ice.

“You are a burden forced on me because your father thought it was good for business. 

Did you really think I ever wanted you? 

You are just a simple, uneducated little girl. Pathetic, Esther!”

His words gutted her.

“Pathetic?” She muttered in her head, tears stinging her eyes. “After everything I did for you …after everything I endured…this is who I am to him?

Maria smirked, sliding her arms around his waist as if she had won a trophy. 

“ He‘s mine. You’re just a low-class  dirty girl.” 

Then she kissed him slowly, deliberately, mocking Esther’s broken heart.

“Low class dirty girl?" she whispered under her breath, barely able to stand.

Her feet stumbled backward. She clutched the doorframe for support, but the world spun through her tears.

She was betrayed by her clouded vision halfway down the stairway.

 Her leg missed a step and her foot slipped, pain shot up her legs as her ankle twisted.

 She struggled to reach for the railing, but her hands missed it as she gasped.

The room spun around her.

“What did I do to deserve this!” She cried to herself, her scream swallowed by the fall.

Her body tumbled down the steps.

The last thing she heard was cruel laughter from the bedroom.

Then everything went black.