1. THE TRUTH

ROWANNE'S POV

Who thought that a small box would lead to the discovery of the husband I thought he wasn't? To me, he was my world, but was I his?

I wanted the water from the shower to burn. I wanted it to peel away the ache, the memories and the name that still lived in my bones.

Jett. Even in death, he still owned me.

I pressed my forehead against the tile, the sob breaking from me in a soundless shudder. The world outside the shower no longer made sense. People had moved on. But me? I was still here shackled to a ghost.

By the time I dragged myself out, steam clung to me and the water drops traced down my bare skin as I walked to the closet. Our closet.

The moment I opened the door, the familiar scent hit me. His cologne. His soap. Him. My chest caved inward as my gaze travelled over the space we once shared.

His side though. It looked untouched yet somehow alive with his suits hung in order.

I reached for one of his jackets. My fingers were trembling as I slid it from the hanger. The fabric was smooth but all I cared about was the faint trace of him that still lingered. His scent. My knees weakened as I pulled it to my chest, burying my face in it, sobbing into the silence.

“God, I miss you,” I whispered into the clothes. "I miss you, Jett!"

The tears blurred my vision and for a moment, all I knew was the ache of grief. Until something pressed hard against my ribs and I froze.

My breath caught as I shifted the jacket, my fingers quickly fumbling along the lining. I felt it again. It was small yet solid, and definitely not fabric.

It was a box.

My stomach dropped. My fingers shook as I dug deeper, panic thrumming in my veins until I pulled it free. A velvet square and it felt heavy in my palm. An engagement ring box?

I stared at it, the world narrowing to the soft black velvet and the way my trembling hands barely managed to hold it steady. My chest rose and fell in jagged bursts. Jett never gave me this.

I had my ring. The one he slipped on my finger seven months ago, the one I kissed every night before bed, the one I still wore like a chain of loyalty. This was different, it was new and untouched.

I pushed open the lid.

The diamond glared back at me from its bed of satin. A design he would never choose for me.

Something inside me cracked open, and it wasn't grief this time, but something more aching.

The tears slowed. My hand tightened around the box until I saw a logo I recognised. The store.

For days, the ring had bothered me so much even when I refused to look into it. I lingered in my mind. There's no way Jett could have bought that for me. I had mine, I had my engagement ring and wedding ring.

Two days later, I grabbed my phone and dialled my assistant. Rita. "Rita, could you look into the Glamour store for me. I want to know if my husband purchased a ring."

"Yes, ma," she said, and the line died.

Days later.

I sat behind the desk as the silence pressed in, suffocating, and only the ticking of the clock on my desk tingled in my brain.

My fingers lingered over the papers in front of me, but I wasn’t reading. No, I couldn’t. Every time I tried to focus, my mind drifted back to that night in the closet.

The knock on the door startled me. I quickly wiped under my eyes. I immediately straightened and schooled my expression.

“Come in.”

Rita stepped inside. She gave me a small and polite smile, though I could see the flicker of worry in her eyes. I hadn’t exactly been myself these past few days.

“Ma’am,” she began softly, setting a file on the desk. “I’ve arranged your schedule for the week. Board meeting with the Carter executives on Wednesday. A charity dinner on Thursday evening. And Friday, your lunch with the foundation trustees has been confirmed.”

I nodded, half-listening as my fingers curled into my palm to keep steady. My gaze flicked to her hands, to the neat stack of papers she placed before me.

She hesitated then, her voice lowering. “And… there’s something else.”

My heart clenched like I knew what she was about to say. No, I knew what she was about to say.

Rita’s eyes flickered down to the page in her hand before lifting to meet mine, cautious but steady.

“I looked into the store, ma’am.” Her tone was careful, as though each word was glass she was afraid to shatter. “The ring was indeed purchased by your husband… to a woman named Juliet Rogidgro.”

The name sliced through my chest like a knife.

My throat tightened, but Rita didn’t stop.

“The same ring was purchased twice. He came back twice claiming the ring had gone missing.” She hesitated, lowering her gaze before delivering the final blow. “I also looked into Juliet. She lives in New York, just a few blocks away… but—” Rita exhaled softly. “She’s a single mother.”

My fingers clenched the armrests of my chair. My breath stuttered in my chest.

“What?” My voice broke. “What did you say?”

The walls seemed to tilt, the office shrinking around me. Single mother. Purchased twice. Juliet. My mind spun, grasping for sense in a world that suddenly didn’t have any.

Now. I was driving.

The city blurred around me. My hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly, as Rita’s words replayed over and over in my head.

Juliet Rogidgro. Single mother. A few blocks away.

Each word pressed harder into me, echoing until they drowned out the sound of the wipers smearing away the rain.

I could still feel the goosebumps when Rita dropped the photo of Juliet and left it on my desk. She was a real woman and a real living being. Not a rumour, but someone who had existed alongside my marriage all these months.

My marriage. My goddamned marriage.

"How dare you! How dare you cheat on me?"