Chapter 10

Sheryl's heart sank. It was true. Those extra business trips of his were actually time spent with Vivian.

Having her suspicions confirmed hurt far more than she expected.

Her phone screen turned dim. Her eyes drifted to the window, and she watched as the bright neon lights and towering buildings swept past. Reflections flickered in her gaze.

The brightness and warmth she once felt had completely vanished, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of tears.

-

The next morning, she went to the bank. She sorted out her personal assets, along with the joint funds and mutual investments shared under their names.

That afternoon, she returned to the art gallery. Around two, she got a call from Brandon.

"Sheryl, I need to head over to Everton this afternoon."

Everton was about a five-hour drive from Nexville.

Brightwell Constructions, which Brandon ran, had a subsidiary there. Two of their key partners—one in steel and another in textiles—were also located there. He used to travel there occasionally for work, but over the past year, his visits had noticeably increased.

Using Everton as an excuse made perfect sense. That's how he had gradually deceived her.

If it weren't for the text messages, and if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would never have suspected a thing.

Of all those business trips to Everton, how many were real? How many of them were spent with Vivian?

"Business trip, huh." Sheryl let out a chuckle, the corners of her lips curling in bitter sarcasm as she drew out the last syllables.

"Yeah, there's been a materials issue at the Celestis Plaza project. I need to go take a look. I shouldn't be gone too long. If things go well, I'll be back tomorrow night. Worst case, the morning after."

Even his excuses were flawless. What could Sheryl say to that?

"Alright. What time are you leaving?"

"I'm on my way home now. I'll pack a few things and head out right after." Brandon's voice was gentle, almost cheerful. "Is there anything you want? Or anything you're craving? I'll bring it back for you after the trip."

Sheryl pursed her lips. She couldn't tell what was real and what was a lie anymore. She simply replied, "I don't really need anything. Everton's too far. Whatever you bring back probably won't taste good anyway."

"Next time I'll take you with me."

"Okay. Safe travels."

She hung up. Her hands fell limply onto her lap, and she stared blankly at the computer screen. It wasn't until Jonah knocked on her door that she snapped out of it.

After signing a few documents, Jonah asked hesitantly, "Ms. Moran, are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that you haven't looked well these past few days."

Sheryl was known for her work ethic, especially after her mother passed away. She had poured her heart into Moran Art Gallery, always arriving first and leaving last. But lately, she hadn't even been staying as long as usual.

Sheryl smiled a little. "I haven't been sleeping well. I'm just tired."

That's right. After she hung up Brandon's call, for the first time, she truly felt exhausted from this marriage.

She wasn't just physically tired, but she was emotionally drained. In just a few short days, it felt like her heart had been through years—maybe even over a decade—of torment. It was now in pieces.

Jonah didn't catch the underlying meaning of her words. She just gave Sheryl a sympathetic look. "Then please try to get some rest. The exhibition on the sixth is only two weeks away. We can't do it without you."

Sheryl paused and said, "You'll need to keep a closer eye on things at the gallery for now. When I'm not around, call me if anything comes up."

"Of course." Jonah nodded. "The acrylic panels for the four exhibits will arrive the morning after tomorrow. We'll need you to sign off on them."

Sheryl nodded to show she understood.

Soon after, she left the gallery and went straight to the Serenity Estates sales office. There, she pulled up the property records for the villa on Lot 11.

Sure enough, on the last page, Brandon's signature was above the line. Beneath it, Vivian was listed as the owner of the property. Her handwriting was neat and graceful.

In the past, these two names never would've appeared side by side. Yet, here they were on the same piece of paper.

Sheryl stared at it for a moment. She was in a daze. Suddenly, she let out a soft, incredulous chuckle.

After a while, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the record.

Next, she needed to find the transaction details for that villa and how Brandon paid for it.

Getting those from the bank would be tricky. His personal account details weren't easy to access without raising suspicion. The best shot would be through his mobile banking app.

-

That night, around ten, Sheryl had just lain down in bed when Brandon called to say goodnight. It was a habit they'd had since they started dating. It was something they'd promised each other.

Whenever they weren't together, they would always call or text morning and night. He had kept that promise and never once missed it.

But now, every time she thought about him saying 'goodnight' or 'I love you', it was while Vivian was lying next to him, and she felt nothing but disgust.

Even the sound of his voice made her skin crawl.

She didn't want to answer. She shut her eyes and ignored the call.

Ten seconds later, the ringing stopped. The phone screen darkened. A message popped up on WhatsApp.

She only read it the next morning.

"Babe, did you fall asleep? I tried calling, but didn't want to wake you. Sleep tight. I love you."

She replied to his text.

"I was a little tired last night, took some melatonin, and went to bed early. Had my phone on silent. Morning."

Her appetite still hadn't returned. She had a small bowl of oats for breakfast. Just as she grabbed her purse to leave, her phone chimed with a text.

"Brandon and Vivian will be having dinner at Orienne Cafe at 7 tonight."

Sheryl paused, and her knuckles turned white around her phone.

-

By half past six that evening, she left the gallery and drove straight to Orienne Cafe.

The timing was just right.

She hadn't even gotten out of the car when she saw Brandon and Vivian step out of a white BMW. Vivian waited for him to come around, then clung to his arm, beaming as they walked into the restaurant together.

Sheryl's breath hitched for a second. She instinctively reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and snapped several photos of their backs.

When they finally disappeared from view, she pushed down the wave of sorrow swelling in her chest, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car.

As soon as she walked into the restaurant, a waiter came up to her.

"Good evening, Miss. How many in your party? Do you have a reservation?"

"One. No reservation." She kept her eyes fixed on the couple walking ahead. Without waiting for a reply, she added, "Just bring me a few of your house specialties."

Then she picked up her pace and trailed behind them.

The restaurant had two floors. Brandon and Vivian entered the elevator, while Sheryl took the stairs on the right.

The stairwell exit on the second floor faced the elevator at an angle. She deliberately slowed down, trying to avoid running into them.

When the elevator dinged, she looked up and saw them step out. They were led to their table by a waiter.

She hadn't followed them far when suddenly, she spotted a familiar face. It was someone who clearly recognized her too.

"Sheryl?"

Hearing Sheryl's name made Brandon freeze. His body stiffened, and he slowly turned around.