Paid to Watch: My Bride and Her Lover

I dialed the number Dad left me.

The woman on the other end was overjoyed. "Gideon, you finally called me! Let me send someone to pick you up, okay?"

I gave a quiet "Okay" and hung up without saying another word.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and a woman's sultry breath brushed my ear. "Who were you on the phone with? I called you a bunch of times."

When I saw the bright red bite mark on her collarbone, I looked away and gave a careless answer. "Delivery guy."

Rosalie Kerr pulled me onto the bed, her voice low and seductive. "So, Gideon, did you learn today's position?"

Without making a show of it, I shifted over to my side of the bed and said flatly, "I've got a cold. It's not a good time."

Maybe it was because I didn't argue with her the way I used to. Rosalie paused and looked me up and down, then let out a soft laugh. "Still mad? Didn't I already give you the money for your dad's medical bills?"

When I said nothing, she grew even more impatient. "I already promised you'll always be married into the Kerr family. No one's going to threaten your place. What more do you want?

"If you need someone to blame, blame yourself. You're too boring in bed to keep me interested."

With that, she slammed the door on her way out.

In the past, whenever we fought, I was almost always the one who groveled to make peace. Sometimes I'd wait outside her door all night and apologize over and over, just to earn a forgiveness that still kept me at arm's length.

Now that I'd lost everything, there was no reason to keep humiliating myself to save this joke of a marriage.

Nightmares haunted me all night. When I woke up, Rosalie was lying beside me as if nothing had happened, absorbed in her phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her order a watch that had been sitting in my cart for ages.

Only then did I remember that back when we were madly in love, she kept the shopping app on her phone logged into my account.

Something had just begun to stir in my numb heart when her quiet voice interrupted the moment. "You're awake? What do you think of this watch as a gift for Dorian?"

She turned the screen toward me. That was when I noticed she'd even swapped her phone case for a custom one that matched Dorian Lisle's.

In a daze, I remembered a Valentine's Day years ago, when I spent a whole month making matching phone cases for us by hand. When I gave one to Rosalie, she tossed it in the trash in disgust. "That's something a three-year-old would play with."

Yet not long ago, she skipped our anniversary and left me waiting at the restaurant until midnight, while she sat with Dorian making childish DIY phone cases over and over without ever getting tired of it.

I looked away from the shoddy phone case and said flatly, "It suits him."

She nodded, looking pleased. Out of habit, she leaned in to kiss my cheek, but I turned slightly away.

Rosalie froze. She was about to say something when her phone rang. A delighted smile spread across her face, and she walked out to the balcony.

By the time she came downstairs, I'd finished making breakfast. She sat down at the table and noticed I hadn't made her coffee.

Rosalie frowned. "Are we out of coffee beans?"

I swallowed my last bite and said evenly, "I'm allergic to caffeine."

Back in school, I once drank a milkshake that turned out to have espresso in it and passed out from the allergic reaction. Rosalie was furious and fired the housekeeper who made it. After that, she'd anxiously double-check everything I was about to eat.

But later, there were too many other men she wanted to look after. When my family's circumstances changed, I learned to please her instead. Even when something made me sick, I forced myself to put up with it, and she gradually forgot about my delicate little problem.

Rosalie's hand stopped halfway to the bread, and something complicated flickered in her eyes. "Sorry, I forgot."

She was about to say more when her phone rang again.