Chapter 3

It was hard to walk into my house that afternoon.

I wandered storefronts and walked by the water. My mind lost. My heart broken. Time seemed to have simultaneously stopped, and it was rushing past me.

Feeling the weight of 10 years wasted on a man who never loved me.

What was I to him? Why did he marry me? Was it because I was cheap? He could play dutiful husband to the public—be the man who loved a woman so much that class didn’t matter. And I’d play along because of his money?

Or was this still a part of his game? To see how long I’d hold out if he kept the money coming.

The house was clean when I walked in. We had a staff of ten. It should be clean. No food had been made so the house smelled almost sterile.

Jacob liked coming home to the scent of a warm dinner each night. He liked seeing that I’d been the one who made it for him. He didn't care who cleaned for him, but for him, cooking was my job. He liked me playing the role of his servant.

But today, I walked past the kitchen with my head hung in shame and my sluggish steps barely lifting off the ground.

I stopped only when I heard the door open.

It was silent for a second. Then I heard Jacob’s voice echo, “Cassie?”

I didn't answer. I couldn't sum up the will to.

When he walked into the kitchen, relief covered his face, “you are here. Why aren’t you cooking?”

His voice was concerned and confused why I wasn't following my normal schedule, rather than annoyed that I wasn't completing a task.

My voice was mumbled and lifeless, even to my ears. “I just got home.”

“Where were you?”

I shook my head and dismissed his question.

“Cassie,” he rushed towards me and grabbed my forearm. He turned me to face him and used both hands to gently lift my face. “What’s wrong?”

It was shocking how effortlessly he played the doting husband. But why put on this charade in private? Was it fun to confuse me?

“I don’t feel well.”

“Why not? What’s wrong?”

I hesitated. This betrayal hurt more than the others. Although there might have been minor crossing of paths, none of his women before this ever dared to flaunt their relationship. They stayed in their lane.

But maybe I was wrong about that too. Maybe this one was the same as before. Maybe my luck had finally run out.

I shook my head and backed away from his hands. I couldn’t stomach the words to tell him what happened. I couldn’t face what it would mean or what would happen next. I’d been desperately clawing onto the hope that this had all been a misunderstanding and I was truly the love of his life.

I wasn’t ready to lose that yet. One more night, I told myself, just one more and you can face reality. Just pretend he loves you for a little longer.

“I went to the spa today, but they overbooked so I wasn’t able to get anything done.” I turned away and back towards the stairs, “you know how I feel about my schedule. It just threw me off.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounded strangely conflicted. He didn’t know what to say next. How could he? When had I ever come home upset over missing a spa appointment? “Why didn’t you use my name? No one would reject my wife.”

I shook my head again and put as much strategy into my next words as I could. “It wouldn’t have mattered. The woman’s husband was more influential. There’s nothing we could’ve done.”

This bothered him. I knew it would. I hoped - at least - that it hurt him more that I was the one undermining his power.

“That’s ridiculous. Who is more influential than me? What place is this? I’ll have my assistant deal with them.”

“Don’t bother.” I said. I wanted him to know he'd chosen another woman over me. I wanted to know if he'd be proud of that. I turned back to meet his eyes as I continued, “her husband paid me a hundred thousand dollars so her friend could have my spot. It’s not really a smart deal to say no to. I'm not rich enough to refuse that.”

I almost added that last part bitterly. And I hope it hurt him - or at least hurt his pride.

I saw the colour leave his face and felt a twinge of bitter amusement as I watched him translate what this meant.

I didn’t leave him any time to respond.

“It was honestly a really bad deal. I guess her husband’s not that bright though.” I sighed breathlessly and mumbled, “you’re on your own for dinner tonight. I need to take a bath and relax.”

And with that I turned to walk up the stairs. I refused to look back.