Chapter 5: John, Have You Slept with Lisa?

Ruby’s POV

I was still staring at him.

Austin stood so calmly, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Like he hadn’t just moved faster than anyone should be able to.

“You were… down the street,” I said, breath catching. “I saw you. You weren’t anywhere near me.”

He tilted his head, brows slightly raised. “What are you talking about? I was right beside you the whole time.”

“No,” I said quickly. “No, you weren’t. You got out of the car way back there—then suddenly you were in front of me.”

“Ruby,” he said slowly, gently, like I was the one acting strange, “you must’ve been in shock. That car nearly hit you. Maybe things looked blurry for a second. Your adrenaline’s still high.”

I blinked at him.

Was he serious?

“I know what I saw,” I muttered.

He gave me a soft smile, like he was trying to calm me down. “Then maybe you just got lucky. I stepped in at the right time. That’s all.”

No.

That wasn’t all.

But the longer he looked at me like that—steady, confident, unfazed—the more I started to doubt myself.

Maybe I had panicked.

Maybe things had blurred.

Maybe I was just tired and emotional and reading too much into everything. First John. Then Lisa. Then almost getting hit by a car.

My head throbbed.

Austin slipped his hands into his pockets like the conversation was over. “You okay to get where you’re going?”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed.

Your Uber has arrived.

Saved.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

The car rolled to a stop beside us, and I opened the back door without another word.

Austin didn’t try to stop me.

He just watched as I climbed inside and closed the door.

And as the car pulled away, I could still feel his eyes on me through the glass.

The Uber dropped me off at the front entrance of the company. I took a deep breath before walking inside, trying to shake off the last traces of Austin and the memory of the near-miss.

The office buzzed with quiet activity. Early arrivals. Coffee cups. Screens flickering to life.

Rebecca found me just outside the HR office.

“You look like hell,” she whispered, eyes narrowing. “Long night?”

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned closer. “Hey… listen. Don’t tell anyone you’re John’s wife, alright? At least not for now.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“Because people talk. And the second they know, they’ll either treat you like you don’t belong or start sucking up like you’re the boss’s spy. Just keep it simple. Be the new girl.”

I nodded slowly. She wasn’t wrong.

Later that morning, I was assigned to work under Owen.

Everyone in the office seemed to flinch at his name.

“You’re working under Owen?” one girl whispered in horror. “Good luck.”

Rebecca winced when she heard. “He’s strict. Unfriendly. Type of guy who thinks being cold equals being competent.”

I tried to keep my chin up. “It’s fine. I’m not here to make friends.”

But what really made my blood go cold was hearing Rebecca add, “John recommended him. Personally. Said he was the most ‘disciplined manager’ in the building.”

That made my stomach drop.

So that was it.

John didn’t just send me here—he set the rules. Probably hoping I’d break under the pressure and run back home, grateful for his crumbs of attention.

Not happening.

When I met Owen, he handed me a stack of folders without looking up. “These need to be turned into structured proposals by end of day.”

“Understood.”

I didn’t ask questions. I just got to work.

I spent the entire day buried in reports and spreadsheets, my fingers cramping from typing, my mind going numb from numbers and formatting.

Hours passed. Most of the staff left. The lights dimmed.

I finally submitted everything a little after ten p.m.

Rebecca was waiting for me near the elevators, sipping what had to be her fourth coffee.

“Hey. Done with the hell assignment?”

“Barely,” I said.

She glanced around, lowered her voice. “Okay. I probably shouldn’t say this but… Lisa? She’s not just a secretary.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“She and John are still a thing. I saw them kissing in the executive office last week.”

My heart didn’t drop.

It didn’t have anywhere left to fall.

“I thought she was just working under him again for convenience,” I said, voice neutral.

Rebecca snorted. “She’s working under him, alright.”

I gave a short laugh, dry and tired.

But I didn’t tell her the worst part—that I had caught them together with my own eyes.

Some truths hurt too much to repeat out loud.

___

I returned home late, dreading what I might walk into.

Some part of me expected to find the lights dimmed, the air heavy with perfume, Lisa’s purse on the table, her voice trailing down the hall.

But instead, I found John sitting alone on the couch, scrolling absently through his phone.

He looked up when I walked in and sighed.

“This place feels so empty,” he said, like he’d been holding that thought in all day. “It’s our first day of marriage, and the house doesn’t feel right. I was hoping… maybe we could eat something. Something you cooked.”

I didn’t even pause on my way past him.

“I’m not a cook or a maid, John.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by the flatness in my voice.

“I cooked before because I liked you,” I added, turning to face him. “Not because it was my job.”

He stood slowly, a soft, almost playful look tugging at his mouth. “So… what, are you saying you don’t like me anymore?”

He stepped closer, arms parting like he meant to pull me into a hug—soft, familiar, the kind of thing that used to melt me.

But I turned abruptly, pretending to fuss with the mail on the console behind me. “Don’t, John. Not right now.”

I turned back to him and met his eyes. “Do you still love me?”

He didn’t answer right away.

This time, he didn’t go for a hug. Instead, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, fingers grazing my cheek with practiced care—like he knew exactly where to touch to make me forget why I was angry.

“Of course, I like you,” he said with a soft laugh, his voice low and coaxing. “You’re the woman I love most in this world. Don’t say things like that.”

His tone was warm. Reassuring. Sincere, even.

And yet, all I could think about was Lisa.

His promises.

His patterns.

Did he think love was enough to excuse everything else?

Seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, he let out a quiet sigh, his voice gentle. “You’ve been acting a little strange since yesterday. Like you’re pulling away from me.”

“Strange,” I echoed, folding my arms.

“I mean it,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re the woman I love most in this life, Ruby. You know that. I’m sorry for earlier—for leaving you like that. I didn’t want to, but Lisa…”

He paused.

I waited.

He went on, softer. “Her husband’s a mess. A gambler. Addicted to who-knows-what. He’s harassed her for months. I couldn’t ignore it. She’s a childhood friend. We’ve been through a lot.”

I stared at him, unmoved.

He said all the right things. In all the right ways.

But the words didn’t land anymore.

They floated between us, empty and practiced.

I let out a dry laugh.

Then I asked, sharp and cold:

“John… have you slept with Lisa?”