I Took My Husband’s Mistress To Her Appointment. Then Sent Them Both To Prison Chapter 03
Cold flooded my limbs.
Less than a month after our brief two-witness ceremony, Rhys left for a business trip to New York. He claimed the project was consuming him, and his replies dwindled to almost nothing. I waited for him at home, checking my phone over and over every day because I was terrified I might miss a message.
Four years.
Rhys had been cheating on me for four years. Still smiling, Livia scrolled to the next pinned post.
It was a video of Rhys working in the kitchen with his back to the camera. Livia wrapped herself around his waist from behind and asked in a syrupy voice what he was making.
He chuckled, his tone unbearably tender. “Ginger hot chocolate and cinnamon cookies for my Livia, of course. You always crave ice cream when you’re on your period.”
Comments streamed across the screen. “This is too sweet.” “Where do I order a boyfriend like this?”
I stared at the screen as nausea climbed my throat.
Ginger hot chocolate and cinnamon cookies.
How ironic.
Whenever my cramps left me curled in bed, drenched in cold sweat, I would ask Rhys to take me to the hospital.
“Take a painkiller and get some rest,” he would reply.
When I told him the medication wasn’t helping and I felt as though I might pass out, he waited half an hour before responding.
“I’m in a meeting.”
Once, I did lose consciousness from the pain. When I woke, I found a two-second missed call from him.
At the time, I convinced myself he’d called because he was worried about me. Now I realized it had probably been an accidental dial.
The third pinned post showed them in the Maldives. Livia sprinted across the beach in a bikini while Rhys chased her, their laughter slicing through the speakers.
The caption read, “He promised to show me every ocean in the world.”
I closed my eyes.
Before our wedding, I had spent six months planning a honeymoon in the Maldives.
At the last minute, Rhys canceled it with a single sentence. ” I hate the beach. It’s hot, loud, and miserable.”
Instead, we spent seven days in a rental house in Napa Valley, where he sat with his laptop and worked from morning to night. Back then, I pitied him. I thought he was exhausted, overworked, and still trying to make time for me.
The truth was simple.
He didn’t hate the beach.
He only hated going there with me.
My thumb trembled as I kept scrolling.
Someone had commented, “Livia is so lucky. Her boyfriend even massages her ankle himself.”
Livia had replied with a blushing emoji. “He worries too much. I tell him he doesn’t need to, but he insists.”
Massaging her ankle.
A heavy knot tightened beneath my ribs. In five years of marriage, Rhys had never once brought so much as a glass of warm water to my bedside.
One time, I twisted my ankle so badly it swelled twice its normal size. I limped into the kitchen to get water while he watched from the couch.
“Why weren’t you more careful?” was all he said before looking back down at his phone.
I had thought he simply didn’t know how to take care of people.
He did.
He just didn’t want to take care of me.
“What’s wrong?” Livia’s voice pulled me back. “You look awful.”
I looked up. She was watching me, and something unreadable flickered through her eyes.
“Nothing.”
I forced a smile. ” You two are just so sweet. I’m a little jealous.”
She smiled. “You’ll find someone too.”
My lips tightened as I scrolled through several more posts. There was a shot of a man kneeling on one knee with flowers, a trail of footprints they had made hand in hand across the snow, and a moment when he crouched to tie her shoe. Every image captured a tenderness Rhys had never once shown me.
The account bio read, “Recording every day with him. He says we’ll post our wedding photos here when we finally get married.”
When we finally get married.
He had already married me five years ago.
Livia caught me staring and laughed as she took back her phone. “I should stop before you get any more jealous.”
I raised my head and met her innocent eyes.
She didn’t know who I was.
On a sunlit afternoon, she was simply bragging to a stranger about her perfect love story. A love story stolen from eight years of my life.
“By the way,” I said, keeping my voice as casual as I could, “how long have you two been together?”
She tilted her head, thought for a moment, then smiled. ” About four years and eleven months.”
“We met earlier than that, though. He chased me for ages before I agreed to date him.”
Rhys and I had obtained our marriage license, held our ceremony, and returned the signed documents five years ago. Which meant that after legally marrying me, he had turned around and begun pursuing Livia.
Maybe he had started even earlier.
I drew in a deep breath and finally asked, “I’m just curious. You’ve taken wedding pictures, and the security staff treats you like the lady of the house. If he’s already treating you like his wife, why would Mr. Sterling let you get pregnant before making it official?”
She sighed softly, then smiled.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you now.”
“Actually, he has a wife.”