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“Happy anniversary, bab—” Marie stopped halfway into her husband's study, an eight-inch cake in her hand, her eyes wide.

Ronan was naked in his chair, facing the window. One hand on his dick, the other holding a picture.

“Tiffany,” he moaned, jerking himself even faster, oblivious to her presence.

She saw the picture; a woman in a pink bikini. Tiffany, his secretary, the woman Marie had always suspected.

Tears immediately burned Marie's eyes as she froze, unable to move.

His moans grew louder, his hand moved faster. His posture changed, he mumbled, throwing his head back.

There, she knew he was about to come.

The fear of being caught surged into her and she backed away quickly and quietly, returning to the kitchen.

She placed the cake down and gripped the counter, her knees buckling as she let the tears drop.

“On our… anniversary…” she whispered, her voice cracking.

It had been two years of marriage, two years of her trying to reach him, to understand him, to love him.

In all that time, Ronan had only touched her once. She had thought it was because he was still adjusting to their arrangement.

The marriage had been arranged by his grandmother Barbara, in hope to build a solid relationship between the Hills and the Miltons. Marie had been head over heels and had agreed to it immediately.

Who wouldn't?

Ronan was tall, with a cute smile and golden hair that looked too perfect to be real.

Her thoughts went to his late nights at the office; he was always working, always busy. Had he been lying then? Was he just spending time with Tiffany?

“If you want to sleep, go to your room.” Ronan’s voice jolted her.

She straightened up and quickly wiped her face before turning to him. “Hey baby,” she said, forcing a smile.

He had a shirt on, his dark hair damp from the shower. He ignored her, walked to the fridge, pulled out a carton of juice and sipped directly.

Her heart pounded at his silence. Usually that wouldn't have been a problem, but knowing what she knew now, she couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about Tiffany.

She shook the thoughts away, walked over to him, and placed her hand around his waist.

“Happy anniversary baby,” she murmured, resting her head on his back. He smelled like tangerine and musk, tough yet soft and for a moment, his scent calmed her.

“Yes, yes,” he said dismissively, moving away from her embrace.

The rejection stung but she swallowed it.

He returned the juice to the fridge.

“I baked,” she blurted, hoping to keep him close.

He glanced at the cake, his expression etched with disinterest. “Nice.”

Her heart squeezed. “Want… to have a bite? To celebrate?”

“Nah,” he said flatly, turning to leave.

“I can make dinner,” she said, “all your favorite meals and… we could… spend the evening together.”

He didn't say anything, but he didn't leave either, and that gave Marie hope.

She touched his broad shoulders gently, trying to reconnect, to ignite something. When she tried to lower her hand, he snapped.

“Have you lost your mind?’’

She stiffened, all her courage crumbling instantly.

His jaw tightened. “What makes you think you can touch me like that?”

“It's our… anniversary,” she whispered.

“For a union that never should’ve happened,” he shot back. “I don’t have time for this.”

He stormed out of the kitchen, and the tears fell again, hot and sharp.

What was she doing wrong?

She had no answer and it wrecked her.

She had done everything, given him time to ease into the marriage, sharing different rooms, living like strangers.

After several moments, she forced herself up and steadied her emotions. She couldn’t take this, not after she knew he was jerking off to his secretary’s photo.

Grandma Barb had always told her to fight—for love, for marriage, for her place. Ronan was a stubborn man, she just had to make him see she was the one.

So she went to his room, where he was putting on a blue suit jacket.

“Yes?” His voice was sharp.

She moved closer, her heart thudding. “I’m going to tell Grandma Barb you… didn’t spend our anniversary with me.”

He turned, anger flashing in his eyes, but beneath it, she saw a flip of fear. He had always been afraid of disappointing Barbara.

“And why would you do that?” he asked slowly.

“Because it’s the second year you’ve ignored it,” she managed. “It hurts, Ronan.”

“And so what?” he sneered. “Get a divorce if you're tired of the union. Stop dragging my grandmother into this.”

“But Ronan—”

“Enough, Marie! Enough!’’ he snapped. “I've had it with you!”

He finished dressing in silence. While wearing his shoes, he looked at her with those icy blue eyes that held no emotions.

“Don't wait up, I'll be late, I have some work to do.”

Her stomach dropped. “Tonight? On our night?’’

He ignored her and picked his phone. “And don't disturb Grandma Barb with your bullshit, you know she's still recovering.”

With that, he left.

Marie fell to her knees, her heart shattering but this time, no tears came out.

He was going out with Tiffany again, she could feel it.

The pain in her heart curled into a ball of rage and she stood up, determined to face Ronan. Enough was enough!

She rushed outside, but he had already gotten into his car.

“Ronan!” she shouted, but he drove off.

Without overthinking, she got into her silver BMW, it was the only wedding gift she had received from her father.

She started the car, and followed Ronan. She was determined to meet him in his office, cause a scene, and maybe challenged Tiffany.

But when he took a different route, confusion raced inside her springing up curiosity.

If he wasn't going to his office, where was he going to?

Minutes later, she got her answer when Ronan pulled up at a hotel.

Her stomach tightened. Maybe he was there for a meeting?

But when Tiffany appeared, dressed in a red gown, and walked straight to Ronan’s car, her world tilted.

With her heart pounding, Marie watched her husband kiss Tiffany, touch her blonde hair, whisper something that made Tiffany giggle, then walk her inside.

Everything blurred.

Everything felt wrong.

Ronan was affectionate, doing all the things she had wanted from him but never received?

Pain sliced inside her, but she didn't leave, couldn't leave.

She kept convincing herself that they were there for a meeting. But after an hour of them not returning, the realization dawned on her; Ronan was cheating.

With blurry eyes, she drove back home. She couldn't explain how, but she did.

She collapsed on the living room floor, her pain doubling.

Ronan had cheated!

She wanted to call Grandma Barb, but the older woman just got back from the hospital after having a heart attack, she couldn’t add more stress.

Marie sobbed harder. Maybe she should call her sister Paige? No, she shook her head.

She was too embarrassed to admit that her marriage was failing.

While she curled up on the rug, the front door opened and Ronan walked in.

Marie jumped to her feet. “Baby…” she paused as Tiffany entered, holding Ronan’s hand. Her heart dropped. “What is she doing here?”

“Grandma Barb is dead,” Ronan said, his voice thick with sadness.

She blinked. “What?”

He pulled Tiffany closer. “And Tiffany is spending the night… to console me.”