All Chapters of Tricked by My Cheating Husband's Perfect Lie: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Sadie's POVThe flowers slipped from my hands, white petals scattering across the ground.My whole body shook. All I could hear was a deafening ringing in my ears.It was all a fake set and a hired actress. Three years of penance and remorse, and every bit of it had been a lie.I'd been so close to letting it go. Just minutes ago, I even softened toward the woman I thought was Wendy Blair, sitting behind the glass, and said, "I'm pregnant, so this is a fresh start. I won't be coming back anymore. Stay here and serve your time."I stood frozen in place, trembling silently, barely daring to breathe. The guard who'd slipped away earlier came hurrying back, wiping sweat from his temple."There was an incident with one of the inmates. I had to step in."I listened to his flimsy excuse and almost laughed. The visitation hall had its own dedicated staff. They didn't need him for anything. But I'd spent three years in such a fog that I'd never once noticed the cracks in the act.After

Sadie's POVBrock frowned, irritated. "Sadie, not this again. Don't you ever get tired of pulling the same trick? You used your pregnancy to force my hand last time, and that's the only reason I sent Wendy away. If you could've just accepted the situation, none of this would've happened."The bitterness hit so hard it nearly doubled me over. I'd gone through a miscarriage, struggled with infertility, and suffered complications from surgery. All those nightmare-filled days and nights, and in Brock's version, I'd brought every bit of it on myself.I let out a sharp laugh and went straight for where it hurt. "I guess I'm just as petty as your mother was. I can't stomach my husband's mistress waltzing into my home. What, are you going to make me end up like her too?"When Brock was five, his father brought his pregnant secretary home to live with them. That same night, his mother jumped off the roof.Brock witnessed the whole thing as a little boy and swore he'd never be like his fath

Third-Person POVBrock called back immediately, his voice tight. "Say that again. What exactly did Sadie tell you?"The actress, Layla Simms, knew the routine by now. Brock never accompanied Sadie Hutton on her visits. He always found some excuse to avoid the visitation room, then called afterward to get every last detail.At first, she'd assumed he was worried about being exposed and getting Wendy in trouble. It wasn't until later that Layla realized he was checking on his wife's state of mind."Mrs. Emerson was much calmer this time than the last two visits. She said she didn't care whether I apologized or not, and she wasn't looking for remorse over what I'd done."She put a pregnancy test report in front of me and told me she was expecting. Then she said she wasn't coming back. She said she was ready to start over."Layla painted a vivid picture, and Brock barely had to imagine it. He already knew exactly what Sadie would have sounded like.She would have been perfectly calm

Sadie's POVAfter leaving the hospital, I booked the next available flight. I didn't care where it went as long as it took me away from here.I arrived with nothing but the clothes on my back in a place where it almost never rained. The locals liked to say that people needed plenty of sun. They said it kept the sadness from settling in too deep.I figured they had a point. At the very least, maybe it could give this hollow heart of mine some reason to keep going.After years as a housewife, adjusting to a real job wasn't easy. But I needed to eat and I needed to push myself, so I found work at a bakery. For my trial shift, I made burnt cheesecake, my specialty.The owner, Nell, took one bite, and her eyes lit up."With talent like this, it's a waste keeping it all for your husband. You should've started doing this a long time ago."I pressed my lips together, unsure how to explain. In the end, I just shook my head with an awkward smile. "I won't be doing that anymore, not now an

Sadie's POVBrock rented a place nearby.Every morning at 5:30 am, before the sun was fully up, he got out of bed and made breakfast the way he used to when I was pregnant.He'd make oatmeal with sliced fruit, everything cooked soft and cooled to just the right temperature. He was just as attentive as he'd been during those nine months, down to the smallest detail.He brought the bowl over and placed it carefully in my hands, his voice low and gentle, almost pleading. "Eat first. Don't skip breakfast."He reached out to brush the hair from my face, the gesture so practiced it was almost muscle memory. I stepped aside and put distance between us.Brock faltered for a second, then recovered. "I'm not going to pressure you. You can be angry for as long as you need. Fight with me or yell at me—I don't care, even if it takes forever. Just don't divorce me. Anything but that."I didn't respond, absentmindedly rubbing my lower back. He immediately moved behind me and started kneading t