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Betty's POV

On my husband's birthday, I discovered that the woman he loved was waiting for him at a hotel.

I was standing in our bedroom, holding his phone, when a message appeared on the screen.

"Meet me at Morris Hotel. Let's celebrate your new age together, Mr. Blackwood."

My fingers tightened around the phone.

For a moment, I stared at the message, hoping I had misunderstood what I was reading. But no matter how many times I read those words, their meaning remained the same.

Jayson Blackwood, my husband, was having an affair.

I wish I could say the discovery shattered my world, but the truth was that my marriage had never been the beautiful love story I once imagined.

Jayson has never treated me the way a husband should treat his wife ever since we've been married.

Our union was a contract marriage, a carefully negotiated alliance between two powerful families. We signed the papers, exchanged vows, and moved into the same mansion, but there was never love between us.

At least, not on his part.

From the beginning, I've known there was a part of him I could never reach. A part that didn't belong to me and probably never would.

But at the same time, knowing something and seeing proof of it were two entirely different things.

Today was his birthday.

I'd spent the entire day preparing a celebration for him, hoping that, for once, he would appreciate the effort. Instead, he made plans with another woman.

My gaze dropped to the phone again just as another notification appeared.

"Happy birthday, baby! I wish I could be there with you right now. ❤️"

A bitter taste filled my mouth. Baby?

Before I could put the phone down, another notification appeared. This time, it was an image.

I tapped on the preview.

It was a photograph of a woman's hand holding a champagne glass. A delicate pink bracelet circled her wrist.

I stared at it.

There was something familiar about that bracelet, something I couldn't quite place. I narrowed my eyes, trying to recall, but the thought slipped away before I could grasp it.

I looked back at the messages.

I couldn't unlock his phone. I didn't know his password, and the messages were only visible because they'd appeared on the screen.

But I didn't need to read anything else.

The invitation and the affectionate message told me enough.

I placed the phone back on the bed, carefully returning it to the position in which I'd found it.

That was when I heard the sound of water running in the bathroom.

I froze.

Shit.

Jayson was still in there. I almost forgot.

Quickly, I turned toward the door and slipped out of the room as quietly as I could. My heart pounded against my ribs as I hurried down the hallway, terrified that he would step out and catch me.

I didn't stop until I reached the staircase.

Only then did I allow myself to breathe.

But the moment I gripped the railing, tears gathered in my eyes.

I blinked, trying to hold them back, but they fell anyway,one after another.

I pressed my lips together, struggling to keep the sob rising in my throat from escaping.

God, it hurt more than I'd expected.

I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand.

The dining room came into view, and I stopped.

It was still beautifully decorated for a birthday celebration that would never happen.

Soft golden lights wrapped around the pillars, casting a warm glow across the room. Fresh flowers sat at the center of the table, carefully arranged beside a small cake.

His favorite flowers and a cake with the words Happy Birthday, Hubby written on it.

I spent hours making sure everything was perfect. I chose the decorations myself, arranged the flowers, and made sure the kitchen prepared his favorite dishes.

I wanted him to come downstairs, see everything I've done, and feel happy.

“But who is that woman?” I thought to myself.

To find out, I just have to go to the hotel.

I left the mansion without taking any of the cars. Instead, I flagged down a taxi and climbed into the back seat.

“Where to, ma'am?” the driver asked.

“Morris Hotel.”

He nodded and drove off.

As the car moved through the streets, I stared out of the window, watching buildings and passing vehicles blur together.

My mind, however, remained trapped on those messages.

I clenched my hands in my lap.

What does she have that I don't? I hated the questions running through my mind. I hated that I was comparing myself to a woman whose face I haven't even seen.

Most of all, I hated that I cared.

I'd spent a year trying to be enough for a man who had never made me feel wanted.

I'd remembered his preferences, celebrated his victories, and held on to every rare moment of kindness as though it were something precious.

I'd done everything I could to make our house feel like a home, even when the man I shared it with treated me like a stranger.

And for what?

So he could give another woman the love I'd been desperately trying to earn?

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

Perhaps I really was pathetic.

But I was tired of feeling that way.

If Jayson had already given his heart to someone else, I needed to see the woman who held it.

I needed to know what I was up against, even if the answer hurt.

"Ma'am, we've arrived."

The driver's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I blinked and looked through the window.

Morris Hotel is one of the hotels owned by Jayson's mother.

I paid the driver and stepped out, clutching my handbag as I made my way toward the entrance.

My heart was racing.

I still didn't know what I planned to do when I saw her. I wasn't even sure I could bring myself to speak to her.

But I needed to see her with my own eyes.

I needed to put a face to the woman who had occupied my husband's heart long before I became his wife.

The moment I stepped into the hotel lobby, a woman in a short pink gown caught my attention.

She was beautiful.

The dress hugged her figure perfectly, and her long legs looked even more elegant beneath the soft fabric. Her stiletto heels clicked against the polished marble floor as she walked toward the reception desk.

There was something effortless about her confidence.

She didn't need to demand attention.

She naturally drew it.

I stood still, watching her.

Then she turned slightly, giving me a clearer view of her face. My breath caught in my throat.

I've seen that face before…Hold on, this is Jewel!

I stared at her, my mind struggling to accept what my eyes were seeing.

Jewel is back?

Jewel is the woman my husband loved long before I became his wife.

The woman whose place in his heart I've spent an entire year wishing I could take.

My gaze followed her as she approached the reception desk, and a cold feeling settled in my stomach.

I know she didn't just return and judging by the message on his phone, she was expecting him to join her.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my handbag.