LOGINStaring at the phone, I was unable to process what was happening.
Why had Misha changed his password without telling me?
As I stood there puzzled, the mysterious caller kept sending more messages.
Misha’s phone always shows a small preview of each time he receives a text. This time his phone chimes and the preview read, “Do you like my new lingerie?”
The next message, from the same number, was several linked pictures followed by another short sentence of text. “What do you think? Is this sexy enough?”
I couldn’t see the image, but I didn’t need to.
The blood drained from my hands leaving me cold as the truth sunk in: Misha was cheating on me.
My hands were hands shaking with anger by the time Misha came out of the bathroom, steam curling around his mostly naked body.
“Hey, Angel,” he grinned when he noticed me, “Welcome home…”
I looked up, and Misha froze, the next words falling silent as his eyes met mine. “What’s wrong, Ari? Did something happen?”
I struggled to keep my voice even as I held up his phone and asked, “Who is she?”
Stepping forward, Misha’s eyes narrowed, and then widened, before snatching the phone from my hand. Unlocking it, he pressed the call button, putting his phone on speaker.
“Hello?” a woman’s gentle voice rang across the phone. “Ba…”
“Mavis,” Misha snapped as soon as the line connected. “What kind of game are you playing? This is company time! I don’t pay you to behave like a prostitute!”
Misha’s chest heaved, his face red as his loud breathing filled the room. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this angry before. We both stood there, the silence stretching, as the two of us glared at the phone in his hands,
“OH MY GOD! Boss I’m so sorry,” Mavis blurted out. “I meant to send that to my boyfriend. It was an accident, I swear.”
“Accident or not, this shouldn’t have happened,” Misha’s face hardened into an unreadable mask as he added, “and if you ever do something like this again, you’re fired. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir! I’m so sorry!” Mavis responded in a rush. “It’ll never happen again!”
The phone call disconnected leaving the two of us alone in a quiet room.
Sighing, Misha tossed the phone onto the foot of the bed. “See, Ariana, it was just a simple mistake. Did you really think that because of those messages I was betraying you?”
His attitude eased some of my suspicions, but I still frowned as I asked, “Then why did you change your password?”
“Oh, is that what this is?” Stepping closer, he reaches out a hand to smooth away a strand of my hair. “We had a data breach at work and our security team required everyone to change their password. The new code is our wedding anniversary. Want me to show you?”
Retrieving the phone, he held it between us as he slowly punched in the date of our wedding. “Here, you try,” Misha encouraged, turning the phone towards me.
The new code worked instantly, opening the phone to its bright, cheery home screen.
I nodded, forcing a small smile, telling myself not to overthink it.Closing the distance between us, Misha kissed my forehead gently, rubbing my back as he said in a slow, soothing purr, “I’d never do anything to hurt you, Ariana. You know that, right? You are my heart.”
As he said this, the familiar, woodsy scent of his usual bodywash wrapped around me and I let him hold me to his chest.
“Come,” he urged softly, guiding me back toward the bed.
I wanted to give in.
But instead, I pushed away gently.
“I’m tired,” I confessed softly, unable to meet his eyes as he gazed down at me.
“That’s okay,” Misha smiled into my hair. “Rest. I’ll be right here.”
That night, we went to bed early, his arms wrapped around me as he fell asleep by my side. My heart and mind were still racing, sleep eluding me. My eyes wide open, I stared at the clock, wishing to God that I could just close my eyes and drift away.
Just as I relaxed, my body on the verge of sleep, my husband’s voice broke the overwhelming quiet of the room. “...Baby...”
He never called me “Baby.” Since the moment we fell in love, he’d call me Ari, or maybe Angel, even in moments of passion.
“Misha?”
“...shh, Baby. We need to be quiet…” he mumbled, still sleeping, his hands moving to pull me into him.
I froze, my heart shattering as his hardness pressed into my rear. Whoever he was dreaming about had him aroused, grinding against me in his sleep.
As fresh tears rolled down my cheeks, a sliver of moonlight shone on a photo framed near out bedside. It was from the day he proposed. It had been a perfect spring day, and standing next to a waterfall, he wrapped me in his arms and promised to love me forever.
Even now I can hear his voice in my head. “Marry me, Ariana. You are my angel, my reason for living and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
I had said yes, imagining a future with the two of us laughing and happy, and completely in love, surrounded by our children and loved ones. There’d be birthday parties and barbeques, sleepovers and swim parties, and eventually weddings and grandchildren as we grew old together, watching our family grow.
I still wanted to believe in this future.
But as I lay there, trapped in my husband’s arms, he seems like a complete stranger.
“He wouldn’t cheat on me,” I whispered into the darkness, another tear rolling down my cheek. “He couldn’t…not after everything…"
Biting back a sob, I remembered Misha as the smiling young man, looking up at me with so much gratitude as I helped him recover. The same man who once stood in the rain to keep me dry with his umbrella, who made every password her birthday.
A man who would whisper, “Angel,” in his dreams.
Where did he go?
Because I couldn’t recognize him anymore in the man lying next to me.
*****
Dawn came without sleep, and as soon as Misha got up to start his day, I realized it was pointless to pretend any longer. As soon as our front door closed and locked, I pushed myself out of bed and stumbled into my office. As part of my doctorate, I was required to submit articles for publication and my research had been accepted into one of the nation’s top medical journals. I just needed to send my final draft.
By the time I was done, I was overdue for breakfast. After my hard day yesterday followed by a completely sleepless night, I decided to treat myself to a coffee and headed to my favorite cafe. It was across town, near the business sector, but they made the best handmade pastries in the city and I was craving a chocolate croissant.
Despite the gloom settling over my heart, the sky was clear and sunny. It was going to be another beautiful day. Maybe I should enjoy my coffee in the cafe's garden, now that I’ve gotten the last bit of my big project finished. It could be the perfect medicine to cure my current funk.
Stepping out of my car, I joined the line that already snaked out the front door to the nearby corner. In the center of Manhattan, it was a popular place for the local businesses, including Carter Tech, which was only two blocks away. Misha preferred his coffee black, and usually didn’t bother with shops like this.
“A waste of money,” he’d say whenever I wanted to stop by.
Even now, I could almost hear him.
“Two hazelnut oatmilk lattes,” he said in my head, placing an order with the barista.
Except he’d never say that. Even when I’d ask, he’d insist on getting two black coffees.
And yet, I heard his voice as clearly as if he were in the same room as me.
“Would it be okay for me to get a maple scone?” a female voice asked a moment later. “Please.”
I recognized that voice. It was the same woman who had sent those messages last night. My head snapped around, looking for the source.
Standing at the counter was a petite blonde woman, her hair pulled back neatly. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up adoringly at the handsome man standing next to her.
My husband.
“Sure thing,” he grinned, looking at her like she hung the stars and the moon, “anything you want.”
As he handed the person behind the counter his credit card, he leaned in, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind one of her delicate ears. A pretty pink blush spread across her cheeks as the side of his body lined up perfectly with hers.
They stood far too close as his hand guided her toward the pickup line. A few moments later, they turned, lattes in hand. Feeling sick, I pushed my way out of line and hid behind a nearby tree as they walked out of the shop, my heart racing.
But not because of fear of discovery, or because my husband was flirting with another woman in broad daylight.
No, I was terrified because finally, everything had started to fall together in my mind with perfect clarity.
Misha had changed–he wasn’t the man I married anymore.
He quit smoking, started working out, tried new things…
He was becoming a better person. But not for me, not even for himself.
It was for her.
I bit my lip hard, swallowing a scream as my heart shattered.
Because in that moment I realized that the one person in the world that I loved more than anyone, the man I had changed my entire world for… maybe never really loved me at all.
As I held my breath, watching the two of them leave together, my phone rang, startling me back to reality.
“Hello?” I answered, my hands shaking.
“Ariana McKenna” the voice on the other end was articulated and refined with an undercurrent of genuine warmth. "Are you available? I read your latest paper. It's brilliant by the way."
It was Ryland Winchester, my advisor from my university days. I hadn’t heard from him in ages, not since I dropped out of school.
It’s only been three years, but it feels like forever ago.
“I showed your paper to the rest of my team. They were impressed. How would you like a fully-funded research position…”
Gasping, I almost dropped my phone.
“Professor Winchester, I’m flattered but I can’t…” I started to say. I want to settle my marriage first before considering anything else.
But he interrupts me. “Read our offer first, then make a decision. We are confident you'll make the right choice."
“Gerald,” I looked around, my nervous heart thumping as I continued to look around. “Where are you?”“I’m at Haven Labs," he explained in perfect clarity, as if he were standing next to me and not across campus. He was speaking through ASP, I realized, through the earrings. Even though Connor had spoken to me earlier in the same way, I still wasn’t used to this sophisticated technology. “How quickly can you get here?” Looking around to make sure nobody was watching, I responded. “I’ll be there in 10.” The last thing I needed was for anyone to think I was crazy, talking to myself. Although after my encounter with my mother, nobody would blame me for a small mental breakdown. Not wanting to face my mother’s disappointment again, I continued on my way, taking the long way around so I wouldn’t have to pass her room again. Checking out of the building, I inhaled the crisp early morning air and sighed as I tried to let go of the memory of my mother’s twisted expression and the harsh edge
Her head had flopped weakly to one side, her clear gaze, as bright as a cloudless summer sky, struggled to focus as she swam through the fog of medication keeping her calm. "Ari?" she rasped so quietly, I almost didn't hear as I approached her bed with timid footsteps. “Yes, Mom, it’s me.” I confirmed, a hopeful smile on my face even as my heart fluttered nervously in my chest. We were arguing loudly when she fell into her coma. And yet, when she looked at me, I didn’t see hate or resentment. Could being in a coma change her heart?Blinking, her eyes moved from one edge of the room to the other, taking in her environment. The last place she likely remembers is the lobby of the 5-star resort where my father’s funeral reception had been held.Unbeknownst to my mother, my father’s funeral and reception had been paid for by Misha, a way for my new husband to show good will–a gesture meant to allow my family to save face. Nobody in New York society had been fooled--except for my mother
Taking a step away from the bed to allow the nurses to do their jobs, I watched in horror as my mother’s condition deteriorated before my eyes. The way her body shook, her eyes rolling back in her head as her mouth mumbled something unintelligible was worse than any of my nightmares.This is not how coma patients are supposed to recover. Something was wrong. Terrifyingly so. Her body’s reaction reminded me of the drug overdose patients I helped during my residency in the ER. Those people often had the same dead-fish eyes, the same frothing mouth and shaking body. Could this be the stimulant working its way through her system, or was it something else? Now, more than ever, I needed to see her bloodwork. My intuition was screaming that the answers could be found in the blood flowing just beneath her skin. I held my mother’s legs as two nurses held my mother’s arms and a third placed a sedative into her IV. Without knowing what triggered this, the best thing that could be done was to
"We haven't gotten the panel back yet," Nurse Green admitted sheepishly. "But it should be back any minute. We've been a bit short staffed." "Is Dr. Fletcher the only one working nightshift in the lab?" Dr. Stern inquired, a brightness in his voice. "Maybe he needs assistance. I can head over there after this exam." Connor raised an eyebrow, as he looked down at his watch, scrolling rapidly along its smart surface. "Dr. Morris and Dr. Lee are also scheduled." It was a statement, not a question. The nurse shrugged. "Dr. Fletcher said something about them both falling sick after their dinner break. Something about bad chicken in the breakroom..." It was a perfectly logical explanation, and yet something about it didn't sit right. What are the odds that both of the support doctors at our onsite analysis labs happened to be sick on the same night from the same meal in the 5-star gourmet kitchen provided by HMG? Every ingredient is top notch and the options of food vast. Maybe I was
“I’d rather you didn’t examine her at all,” I answered honestly, not bothering to hide distrust. “If I cannot check her over, Dr. Clark will perform the assessment.”Dr. Stern’s eyebrow raised, his expression smug. “You, Dr. McKenna, are in no position to make requests considering your…circumstances which is why I’ll be performing the initial examination.” Smirking he added, “as it is, bringing you in was a courtesy. One that I intend to supervise fully, for the sake of your review.”A courtesy? The nerve. He was trying to make me think I didn't have a choice in the matter, that I'd cower under the threat of his witch hunt. I'm done with people trying to use my mother against me. I didn't do anything wrong, and I refuse to behave like I did.“I’m here not just because I’m her only family, but because I’m the only specialist regarding her treatment,” I retorted, barring my teeth in a wide, forced smile. “I haven’t been charged with anything, Dr. Stern, nor have I been removed as her p
“Connor…” I spoke as he started the car. “There’s more.” His face, a frozen mask of indifference, didn’t change, but his hands, which were already gripping the steering wheel tightly, clenched hard enough that his knuckles were white. Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Tex was also at the facility, or at least, I think he was. I didn’t see him and he didn’t sound like him exactly, but he had been speaking with Nurse Samuels and I…”Lifting a hand off the steering wheel, he held it between us, a clear barrier that stopped my words and made my chest tighten. “Shh,” he ordered. “Not here. Not now,” he inhaled sharply, exhaling slowly and steadily before adding. “I need time to process before I respond or I’ll say something I’ll regret.” The rest of the ride was so quiet I could hear my blood rushing through my ears. I hate feeling on edge like this, like a scolded child. But this time, I deserved it. I deserved all of his anger. And unlike Misha who would explode and demean me, Con
No.Misha would never cheat on me. He couldn’t. As I pulled into the long drive leading to his mother’s house. My heart beat faltered, my chest tight like someone had stabbed me and left my body pinned to the seat of the car. Closing my eyes, I exhaled slowly before opening the door and stepping ou
The next morning I woke up suddenly, confused and blinking, a sound from the next room startling me awake. The still-warm sheets let me know that Misha was still around. Usually he’d be gone by now, or nudging me awake to make him breakfast, but today he let me sleep in. Smiling, I thought of our n
You might be wondering why a single mix-up with a plane ticket was enough to make me lose all hope in my husbandThe thing is, it wasn’t just one mistake. This ticket was the last mistake, his last chance to prove his love. But for this to make sense, we need to go back one more month…[ONE MONTH A
They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper. But I’m getting ahead of myself.Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? _______“I'm sorry, ma’am, but I can







