CHAPTER ONE THE ALLEGATION

Amanda's POV

“Your husband is having an affair with my fiancee.”

The water in my mouth splashed out the moment I heard those words. It doesn’t sound right and sensible to me.

I fixed my gaze on him to be rest assured he is not cracking jokes. Part of me is saying that he makes mistakes. Damien sometimes is known to have been joking with some critical issues.

What he just said was possibly impossible. Nathaniel can never cheat on me.

“Mr Damien,” I put my glass of water down and shook my head in rejecting the claim. “They way you joke sometimes doesn't make me count your claim so serious. Are you joking?”

“Do I look like I am joking with you?” He was staring into my eyeball with intense seriousness.

“But….what..you just said is very impossible.” I stammered, struggling to use the right words to express my thoughts. The claim had mixed my mind with many unpredictable things. One minute, I am reflecting that the allegation is actually true and the next few minutes, I considered it a hoax.

But the seriousness of Damien is troubling my mind. This can't be true. Nathaniel really loves me. Since we got married three years ago, he had never given me any reason to doubt his loyalty.

“Why did you say it is impossible?” Damien asked me, shook his head slightly and sat down properly, staring at me for a quick reply.

“Nathaniel loves me,” I said firmly. “He can't do something like that.”

“I know this is what you will say.” His voice was tender but filled with sorrow. “This is the same thing I said concerning Vivian some months ago.

The name etched a pain in my heart. Vivian.

I could remember how we were raised alongside each other. Vivian Hale. We were practically sisters. She usually reminded me how lucky I was to have Nathaniel as my husband. I can appreciate how she worked and coordinated many things on our wedding days.

“I can’t believe this, I can’t,” I said again, my voice coming out firm even though something inside me was beginning to shake.

Damien did not respond immediately, and the silence between us made everything worse because I could see the sadness in his eyes, the kind of sadness that made me feel as though he was already mourning the marriage I was still desperately trying to protect.

“Amanda,” he finally said, leaning slightly toward me, “are you not suspicious of anything that has happened recently?”

I frowned at him.

“Suspicious of what?”

“Anything,” he replied, his voice remaining calm. “Think carefully before you answer me.”

“I have nothing to be suspicious about,” I said almost immediately, because that was what I believed at that moment, and because admitting that something might have been wrong with Nathaniel would mean opening a door I was not prepared to enter.

Damien sighed and looked away for a moment.

“I am not asking you to accuse your husband, Amanda, I am asking you to think about the things you may have ignored because you trusted him.”

His words made me uncomfortable.

I looked down at my hands and tried to remember the past few months, searching for anything that had seemed strange at the time, but which I had dismissed because I believed Nathaniel loved me.

At first, nothing came to mind. Then Vivian appeared in my thoughts. Vivian has been visiting us more often lately.

She would come to the house without much warning, sometimes saying she wanted to see me, sometimes bringing food, sometimes simply wanting to spend time with us.

I had never considered it strange. Why would I?

Vivian had practically been my sister while we were growing up, and our friendship had survived marriage, adulthood, and the changes that came with our separate lives.

Whenever she visited, I saw it as love. I saw it as family bonding.

Sometimes she and Nathaniel would sit together and discuss work, business, or things from our childhood, and I never thought anything of it because I trusted both of them.

“Nathaniel was still romantic with me,” I said, almost as though I was trying to convince Damien rather than myself. “He still sent me flowers.”

Damien remained silent. “He still hugged me whenever he came home, and he kissed me before leaving for work, sometimes even when he was in a hurry.”

I swallowed. “He still told me that he loved me.”

Damien's expression softened, but there was something painful in his eyes.

“Then what about your intimacy?”

The question made me uncomfortable. I looked away from him.

“Our intimacy?”

“Yes.”

I remained silent for several seconds before finally answering.

“It changed.”

“How?” He asked sharply.

“Our sex life dropped,” I admitted, my voice becoming quieter. “We haven't been intimate for about five months.”

Damien's face tightened. “Five months?”

I nodded slowly.

“But he always had an explanation,” I continued. “Sometimes he said he was tired with work, sometimes he said he was stressed, and sometimes he simply told me he was not in the mood.”

I forced a small laugh, although there was nothing funny about it.

“I didn't think much about it because people go through difficult periods in marriage, especially when work becomes demanding.”

“And you never questioned him?”

“I did, but he always reassured me.”

I looked directly at Damien. “Even that doesn't mean he cheated on me.”

He stared at me for a moment, then lowered his head. “I know you will disagree.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. My heart began beating faster.

“Amanda, I wish I didn't have to show you this.”

“Show me what?”

He unlocked the phone and turned the screen toward me. I looked at the picture. For a moment, my mind refused to understand what I was seeing.

Then everything inside me stopped. Vivian was resting safely in the arms of my husband. My Nathaniel.

His arms were wrapped around her in a way that was far too intimate to be explained as friendship, and Vivian's body was pressed against his chest as though she belonged there.

I stared at the picture without blinking.

“No,” I whispered.

Damien swiped to another picture. This time, they were kissing. I felt something cold move through my entire body. My fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

“No.”

“Amanda…”

“No.”

I pushed the phone away from me.

“This could be edited.”

Damien looked at me sadly.

“It isn't.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do.”

“You could have been given fake pictures.”

“Amanda, look at them.”

“I have looked at them.”

“Then look again.”

I refused. I could not look again because the image had already entered my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not remove it.

Vivian. The woman who had stood beside me on my wedding day.

The woman who had helped me choose decorations, arrange details, and calm me when I became nervous.

The woman who had repeatedly told me how lucky I was to have Nathaniel as my husband.

The woman I had trusted inside my home. I shook my head.

“There has to be another explanation.”

Damien leaned back in his chair.

“Then explain the pictures.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My mind suddenly remembered something else.

“Nathaniel told me he had a business meeting in Washington, DC. He said it was for a government contract.”

Damien's eyes remained fixed on me.

“When?”

“Four days ago.”

“He said it was for a government contract.”

Damien slowly nodded. My heart began pounding again.

“He told me it was important, and that he might be away for a few days.”

“And Vivian?”

I stared at him. “What about Vivian?”

Damien suddenly made a strange sound, almost like a fake cry, before wiping his face dramatically.

“She told me four days ago too that she was going for a job interview.”

My eyes widened. “A job interview?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Around the same time.”

The room suddenly felt smaller. I could hear my own breathing. I remembered Nathaniel packing his luggage yesterday. I remembered standing inside that luxurious mansion in New York, watching him prepare to leave for what he had called an important business contract.

I remembered the way he had walked toward me before leaving. He had placed his hands around my waist. He had kissed me.

Then he looked into my eyes and told me he loved me. “I love you, Amanda,” he had said.

I remembered smiling and believing him. I remembered watching him pick up his luggage and walk toward the door.

I remembered waving goodbye as he left. My chest tightened. If Nathaniel was cheating on me, then how could he have kissed me like that?

How could he have looked into my eyes and said he loved me without even hesitating?

How could a man hold his wife, kiss her, tell her he loved her, and then travel to another woman?

Maybe Damien was wrong. Maybe the pictures were edited. Maybe someone was trying to destroy my marriage. Maybe Vivian was being framed.

There had to be an explanation.

“If you still doubt it,” he said “you can come and meet me at my residence by five o'clock in the evening.”

I looked at Damien again.

“You're wrong,” I said, although my voice no longer carried the confidence it had earlier.

He did not argue but shook his head.