Chapter 2

Sophia didn’t sleep. Not after the gala. Not after the way Jessica’s hand lingered too long on Richard’s arm. Not after the way her husband came alive for everyone except her.

By dawn, the penthouse felt empty. The marble floors shone, the halls were silent—a place that looked perfect but felt hollow. At 5 AM, she gave up pretending and wandered into the kitchen. The espresso machine Richard once bragged about sat gleaming, untouched. He hadn’t made coffee at home in weeks, always saying he’d grab one on the way.

Her phone buzzed. Jessica.

Coffee this morning? I have news!

Sophia stared at the message, her stomach twisting. Jessica always had something to say, some story to keep their friendship alive. But those emojis felt fake.

Sure. The usual place?

Actually, let’s try Café Luna. 10 AM. You’ll love it!

Sophia frowned. Jessica never liked “quirky” cafés. She always stuck to the same latte for years. Maybe Sophia was just overthinking, seeing too much in everything.

At 9:30, while brushing on mascara, she heard Richard’s key in the lock. He never came home mid morning

“In here,” she called, watching him appear in the mirror’s reflection. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loose. His hair wasn’t neatly combed the way he liked, it was messy. The kind of messy you didn’t get from boardrooms.

“You’re home early,” Sophia said, voice steady despite the tremor in her chest.

“Forgot some files.” His eyes met hers in the mirror for a second, then quickly looked away.

“The Henderson merger?” she asked lightly.

A pause. A little too long. “Yes. That one.”

Except Sophia remembered him saying last week the Henderson deal had been postponed indefinitely. She remembered because she had been listening. Back when she still thought listening made her a good wife.

“I’m meeting Jessica for coffee,” she tried, watching him.

“That’s nice,” he replied, distracted. “You two should catch up more.”

“Café Luna. That new place.”

Richard froze. For a moment, he went pale. “I thought Jessica didn’t like new places.”

Sophia stopped with her mascara wand in the air. “She does. That’s what I—”

“I need to get those files.” He rushed into his office, moving too quickly for just paperwork

Sophia sat motionless, mascara wand still in hand, pulse pounding. How did he know Jessica hated new places? That wasn’t something she’d ever told him. It was the kind of detail you only noticed if you were paying close attention.

The kind of attention he hadn’t given her in months.

Café Luna was everything Jessica usually avoided—crowded, noisy, mismatched furniture, the faint scent of burnt espresso. Sophia spotted her tucked into a corner booth, oversized sunglasses covering half her face.

“There you are!” Jessica jumped up, hugging her too tightly, too long. “That Chanel looks incredible on you.”

Sophia slid into the booth, studying her friend. Even with the glasses, she could see the signs—lipstick reapplied, foundation a little too carefully blended. The kind of touch-ups you made after kissing someone you shouldn’t.

“So,” Jessica beamed, “I have news.”

Sophia forced a smile. “Go on.”

“I’ve been seeing someone. And, Sophia… he’s perfect. He actually sees me.”

Sophia’s stomach dropped. “That’s… wonderful. Who is he?”

Jessica hesitated, then smiled too brightly. “It’s complicated. He’s not really… available. But that’s going to change.”

Sophia’s blood turned cold. “Jessica. Tell me you’re not with a married man.”

“It’s not an affair!” Jessica’s voice rose, then softened when a couple at the next table glanced over. “It’s love. Real love. The kind you wait your whole life for.”

“But he’s married,” Sophia pressed.

“Marriages end,” Jessica said simply, as if it were obvious. “Especially the ones built on money or convenience. Those don’t last.”

Sophia set down her cup, her hand trembling. “Does he tell you his marriage was a mistake?”

Jessica’s smile softened into something dreamy. “He tells me everything. How trapped he feels. How lonely he’s been for years. It breaks my heart.”

Jessica’s words cut straight into Sophia.

“How long?” Sophia whispered.

Jessica bit her lip. “A few months. Since the spring charity auction. That’s when everything changed.”

The auction. Three months ago. The exact time Richard began working late, coming home distant, their conversations shrinking to logistics and schedules.

Sophia’s pulse thundered. “What does he do?”

Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Publishing. Media, really. He’s brilliant, always strategizing, always one step ahead. You’d love him.”

Sophia held onto the table. The room spun.

Jessica glanced at her phone and stood, sliding her purse over her shoulder. “I should run. We’ve got a meeting this afternoon.”

Sophia’s voice cut like glass. “You still haven’t told me his name.”

For a moment, Jessica’s mask fell. Guilt, defiance, and something almost like pity showed.

“You’ll meet him soon,” Jessica said softly. “I think you two will get along.”

She kissed Sophia’s cheek, her lips burning against her skin. “Be happy for me, babe. Your opinion means everything.”

Then she was gone.

Sophia sat still in the busy café, surrounded by strangers laughing, loving, and living simple lives. Her phone buzzed.

Meeting moved to 2 PM. Don’t wait dinner.

Richard.

Sophia checked the timestamp on Jessica’s departure. 1:47 PM.

The room spun. She closed her eyes and let the truth settle in, heavy and merciless.

She wasn’t paranoid.

She wasn’t imagining it.

She was losing everything.