CHAPTER 5

SO many days had passed but Cindy hadn’t confronted her husband about that day—the day she had walked in and caught Alexander with another woman, right there in their own bedroom. It should have shattered her completely but after three years of marriage, this betrayal had, tragically, become just another thread in the fabric of her life.

She had caught him before.

She remembered the secretary in his office, the artist he flirted with under the pretense of business, the businesswoman whose presence in a meeting was more than professional, the entertainer in the bar whose laughter had once grated against her heart.

Each time, she had witnessed the indiscretions firsthand, her chest tightening, her stomach knotting with hurt, yet somehow, because she loved him,

she let it slide.

Naïve, she told herself, foolish in love—she still let him touch her, still made herself vulnerable to him, hoping that the intimacy might tether him somehow. She had given him herself, fully and freely, even after the betrayals, believing that love could bind him and believing that her devotion could make him see her the way she saw him.

And still… she didn’t get pregnant.

She clung to the fragile hope that if they were to have a child, maybe Alexander would change. Maybe, just maybe, holding a piece of her in his arms, seeing a living proof of their bond, he would finally treat her the way she had always dreamed—tenderly, lovingly, as an equal in their marriage.

But she was wrong.

Her heart ached with the cold realization.

No baby had appeared, no miracle had softened his cruel indifference and no spark of genuine affection had blossomed. She loved him with everything she had, yet the love was one-sided and no matter how many times she let herself hope, the outcome was always the same:

empty, hollow and lonely.

Cindy closed her eyes, pressing her palms to her face, trying to swallow the bitter truth.

She had loved blindly, given endlessly and yet she remained unseen, unheard and unloved. And somewhere deep inside, a quiet, painful anger began to stir, tempered by the sadness of knowing she had allowed herself to be hurt for far too long.

Then, one quiet Sunday morning, the calm of the house was broken as Alexander returned home, his arm draped possessively around a woman.

“… Alex, who is she?” Cindy’s voice was cautious, tinged with confusion as she stepped into the living room.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to place the unfamiliar yet somehow familiar face.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the woman.

Something in her expression, her posture, the curve of her smile—it tugged at a memory she had long buried.

And then it hit her.

Her heart clenched painfully.

This was Stella.

Alexander’s first love.

“Oh, don’t mind her,” Alexander said casually, brushing past Cindy as if she weren’t even there. Then his arm remained linked with Stella’s as he led her toward the couch in the living room, leaving Cindy frozen in place.

“Come on, you must be tired.”

Cindy’s chest tightened as she watched them.

Stella’s presence was effortless, commanding and somehow graceful, full of life unlike her. Cindy realized she was being pushed aside in her own home, replaced, not just physically but emotionally, by a woman who had once held Alexander’s heart.

Then, Stella settled in the room beside their bedroom, a quiet claim of dominance that made Cindy’s stomach twist.

Alexander had finally brought her back—his first love, the one he had never truly let go of. And Cindy, despite everything she had endured, was left to watch.

Her mind raced as memories flashing back of all the times she had clung to hope that Alexander might change, that their marriage could mean something.

And now, as she saw him laugh gently at Stella, as he reached for her hand with a tenderness he had never shown Cindy, the bitter truth hit her:

 she had never been enough.

The silence between them was deafening.

Cindy felt her hands clench into fists at her sides, her lips pressed into a thin line, as the familiar pang of helplessness and betrayal washed over her once more.

She had loved blindly, and yet, here it was again—

Alexander’s heart, given to someone else, displayed in her own home.

Cindy couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Even if Alexander had never truly loved her, she was shocked that he had allowed Stella to stay in their house.

“Why would you let her stay here? This is our home!” Cindy’s voice trembled, cracking as tears ran down her cheeks.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, shaking with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

“Don’t be like that! And don’t act so stubborn!” Alexander’s voice boomed across the room, sharp and commanding. “Stella’s parents are overseas for a business conference and no one can take care of her. I have no choice. Don’t be so heartless, god!” His words hit her like a punch, each one layered with accusation and arrogance.

Stella, sensing the tension, lowered her gaze in mock apology.

Then she stepped closer to Alexander, gently grabbing the collar of his shirt while tilting her face upward to meet his eyes with an almost fragile vulnerability. The tenderness in her gestures stabbed Cindy’s chest like a knife.

All her life, no one had looked at her like that—like she was delicate, precious, irreplaceable.

“I-I’m so sorry, Alex… sorry for intruding,” Stella murmured, her voice trembling, eyes glossy with feigned emotion. Then, with deliberate calculation, she turned toward Cindy, her smile faint but sharp.

Her hands clasped Cindy’s with gentle pressure, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“P-please, Cindy,” Stella said, her tone soft but layered with provocation. “I know you’re not comfortable with me being here, but… can I at least stay for a few days? I promise I won’t stay long. I just need Alex to… care for me. You know I just had a transplant, right?”

Her smirk was subtle, hidden just enough so that Alexander couldn’t see it but Cindy felt it like a jab straight to her heart. The deliberate cruelty in her expression made Cindy’s hands shake. In a reflexive surge of frustration and hurt, she pushed Stella—not hard, just enough to make her step back but Stella, aware of every move, exaggerated her fall, sprawling to the floor dramatically.

“Ouch! C-Cindy! How c-could you do this?” Stella gasped, her voice dripping with mock pain.

That made Alexander froze with panic flashing in his eyes. Then he crouched down beside her with one hand cupping her face, his other bracing against the floor. “Stella! Are you okay? How could you—?” His tone softened instantly, worry and guilt clouding his usual arrogance.

Cindy’s stomach dropped as she stepped back, trembling, instinctively holding her hands up. “I d-didn’t push you that hard…” she stammered, voice small, eyes wide while still clutching her cheeks where the tension had pressed into her.

But before she could finish explaining, a sharp sting landed across her face.

Alexander’s palm had connected with her cheek. “How dare you hurt her!” he shouted, his voice booming with anger and protectiveness, as though Cindy herself was the criminal. “Do you know how weak she is? How dare you lay a hand on her!”

Cindy’s body froze and clasped her cheek instinctively, her eyes darting between her husband and Stella. The woman on the floor smiled faintly, victorious and unapologetic while Alexander’s glare burned into her like fire.

She felt small, trapped and completely powerless in a house that was supposed to be hers as much as his—

yet here, in this moment, she was nothing.