All Chapters of The Affair Revenge My Bestfriend's Husband Offered Me: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

My fifth wedding anniversary was the day I learned my husband had never stopped loving her. I’d always known I was his second choice. I just never thought that he would betrayed me with her, my bestfriend, his first love, in our bed. Not after we’d built a life together, brick by brick from the bottom.The rhythmic, familiar creak of our bedframe—a sound I knew in my bones—but mixed with it, a soft moan. A woman’s moan. Then, a low groan I recognized—Zane’s—but one that held a note of desperate, worshipful pleasure he’d never had with me.That was the sound he used to make in Jovi’s car in the high school parking lot. A sound I’d only ever heard from outside, through a closed window.“Jovi.”I stood frozen, a cold bottle of 2019 vintage champagne sweating in my hand. Our year. The year we’d finally gotten married, two years after she’d broken his heart by announcing her engagement to Vance Blackwood. I’d been the one to pick up the pieces. The safe harbor. The steady love. The best fr

I prepared for the Harrington presentation with total focus. My personal life was a disaster, but spreadsheets made sense. Data was clear. Numbers didn’t lie or cheat.In the five minutes I had at my desk, I pulled the Scandinavian reports, checked the numbers against the Zenith projections, and made a short, clear slide deck. My hands were steady. The empty feeling inside was replaced by a cold, sharp energy.At the eleven-minute mark, I walked into the boardroom.It was a powerful room. Huge windows looked out over the whole city. Seven men in very expensive suits sat around a big, shiny table. Harrington, with white hair and sharp eyes, sat at the head. Vance stood at the other end, back to the light.All talking stopped. Everyone looked at me, a woman in yesterday’s wrinkled clothes with smudged makeup walking into their space. I could see them writing me off before I even spoke. Their judgmental eyes shook my resolve, I almost wanted to turn around and run away. I should have che

The next morning, the email went out at 9 AM.Subject: Leadership AnnouncementPlease join me in congratulating Nerissa Sullivan on her promotion to Vice President of Strategic Operations...My inbox exploded within minutes. Congratulations from people who'd never spoken to me. Questions from colleagues. A calendar invite from HR for a "transition meeting."At 9:15, my phone buzzed. Not a call. A text.Zane: I heard you're getting promoted. We need to talk. Call me.I stared at the message. A cold trickle of understanding dripped down my spine.I heard.The announcement was 15 minutes old. It was internal. For Astera employees only.Zane didn't work here. He had no friends here. He wouldn't be on any industry mailing lists that would get this news this fast.There was only one person who would have seen this email immediately and had a reason to run to tell him. One person with a vested, panicked interest in making him question my sudden rise.Jovi.She had eyes here. Someone was feed

Jovi stood at the entrance, poised and radiant in a pale gold gown. She was not alone.On her arm, wearing a tuxedo he hadn’t worn since our wedding, was Zane.Vance went still beside Nerissa. His voice was low, barely a breath against her ear.“Does his presence here compromise our position?”Her eyes stayed fixed on the Harringtons, her face a mask of perfect composure. But her knuckles, wrapped around the champagne flute, were bloodless white.The answer, whatever it was, would be whatever best served the alliance.“No,” she said, her voice steady. “It changes nothing.”“Good.”She could feel his palm on her back put a slight pressure as to ground her... or his self, in this current chaos they had to face.Across the room, Jovi began to move through the crowd, Zane stiff beside her, coming straight toward them.“Is that… Nerissa?”Jovi’s voice was barely a whisper, but Zane heard the tremor in it. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His eyes were locked on his wife. Vance Blackwood stoo

The numbers on the screen bled together into a grey fog. She blinked, hard, trying to force her eyes to focus. Her desk clock read 9:17 PM. The executive floor was a tomb, so quiet she could hear the faint whir of her own laptop fan.This office, her shiny new prize, felt like a glass box suspended over the city. She’d stopped answering her phone. Mom’s worried voicemails piled up. Zane’s pleading texts were little red notifications she swiped away without reading. The only thing that felt real was the Harrington project data. It was clean. It was logical. It didn’t lie or love someone else.A dull ache had been brewing in her lower back for hours. She’d ignored it. She blamed the chair, the stress, the sheer exhaustion of holding herself upright in a world that had cracked open. She pushed back from the desk to stand and a wave of dizziness hit her so violently the floor seemed to tilt. She grabbed the edge of the desk, her fingers digging into the wood.You just need food, she told