"You're pregnant. Congratulations, Mrs. Worwick."

The doctor's words left me stunned.

Pregnant? That's insane!

As I drove home, every possible emotion hit me at once — panic, fear, anxiety, but also an overwhelming happiness. I'd always wanted to be a mother, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

I got home and started preparing a special dinner for my husband. I wanted to share the news in the most beautiful way possible, and what better way than with a candlelit meal?

I took care of absolutely everything, even set candles on the table for an elegant touch. I was incredibly anxious. Maybe it was the pregnancy, but I couldn't shake this nagging feeling of unease in my stomach. I decided to ignore it. Nothing was going to ruin this moment. Nothing.

When my husband arrived, it was already past midnight. That didn't surprise me — he always works tirelessly to keep his company afloat.

"My love!" I exclaimed, beaming. "You're home, Daven!" Like a giddy little girl, I threw myself into his arms and kissed him. He kissed me back immediately, despite being exhausted.

"Sorry I'm late, baby." He replied, gently stroking my cheek. I shook my head and gave him a smile. "It's fine. I made dinner. And I have some big news for you!" I said, bursting with happiness. He raised an eyebrow and smiled, but before he could respond, his phone rang.

I noticed the way he looked at the screen, his expression turning dark.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I need to take this call." He didn't give me a chance to respond. He walked outside and answered. I couldn't hear what he was saying "he was speaking in a near-whisper" but there was something in his voice, something surprisingly tender.

Barely five minutes later, he came back inside, grabbed his keys, and looked at me.

"Don't wait up for me tonight."

That was all he said before he left, leaving me in shock.

What the hell was that?

The unease inside me grew, along with my anxiety. But I trusted my husband. It was probably a work emergency. Yes, I was sure of it.

That night, my husband didn't come home to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I checked my phone — not a single message from him. I turned on the TV and put on the news, a daily habit. It's always good to know what's going on in the world.

I was about to make myself a coffee when I froze at the top story.

"Actress Marizza Lancaster has returned to London."

I knew that name all too well. That woman... She was my husband's first love. The uneasy feeling in my gut only intensified. My husband hadn't come home last night, and I couldn't stop replaying how he'd rushed out the moment he received that call. But he wasn't with her... right?

"And that's not all! She was spotted at the airport with a mysterious man. Could he be her partner?"

I stared at the TV screen, and there he was — my husband — beside his first love. His arm was around her waist as he guided her away from the fans. You couldn't see his face clearly, but a wife knows her husband, and that man was Daven.

The pressure in my chest made it hard to breathe. My mind started spiraling.

"He didn't come home last night because he was sleeping with her."

"You always knew you were just a replacement."

"No matter what you do, you'll never measure up."

I tried to push those intrusive thoughts aside and went to work. It's the same company my husband owns — I'm his assistant.

When I arrived, I threw myself into my tasks. I hadn't seen my husband since he left last night, and I still hadn't seen him now because he'd been tied up in back-to-back meetings. But it was maddening, because every single one of my coworkers was buzzing about Marizza.

"Miss Lancaster is back, do you think the boss will finally marry her?"

"She's so gorgeous, I'm jealous!"

"I bet they're back together. He went to pick her up at the airport last night!"

Hearing them say that was like being stabbed over and over, but I couldn't blame them. The truth is, no one knows about my marriage to Daven except our closest friends and family. He wanted it that way, and I respected his wishes.

I gathered some papers that needed his signature and walked to my husband's office. The door was slightly ajar.

Inside, I could see Daven behind his desk signing documents, and across from him sat the twins, Caleb and James — both partners in the company and Daven's best friends.

I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help overhearing what they were saying.

"Don't lie to us, man. We all saw the news today. You went to get Marizza the second she landed! Tell us" you're still into her, aren't you?

My heart was racing. I needed to hear my husband deny that accusation, but instead, he answered with another question.

"Why? Do you like her?" Daven said, his tone playful. But I didn't miss the fact that he'd dodged the question entirely.

"Of course I like her," Caleb replied with an arrogant grin. "But she's your girl, and I respect that."

His girl... I felt like I was going to be sick, until I heard James's voice.

"Cut the crap, Caleb. Daven is married to Evangeline." He reminded his brother, sounding frustrated, as if he were annoyed by Caleb's speculation about their friend.

I felt a sliver of relief, until—

"Oh, give me a break, James. Daven only married Evangeline because Marizza left him at the altar. Otherwise, he never would've looked at her twice. I mean, have you seen her? She's nothing compared to Marizza."

God, I wanted to cry.

"Besides, you're missing the obvious. Daven went after Marizza the second she came back." I watched Caleb's eyes search Daven's face, looking for confirmation, but Daven still said nothing. "They say the longer you're apart, the stronger the feelings get. I wouldn't be surprised if you already fucked her."

The moment I heard those words, I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed in. I was livid, and I think they noticed, because both brothers backed away from my venomous glare.

I ignored them entirely and went straight to my husband. I couldn't help but notice he was wearing an expensive, impeccable suit — one that was not the same as the night before. My blood boiled.

I slammed the papers on his desk. He looked up, studying me with that stoic expression of his, but I knew him well enough to see the bewilderment behind it.

"Sign them. Now." I ordered, which was ironic considering he was the boss."He said nothing, signed the papers, and handed them back. I took them and walked out."

Not before hearing them say:

"Shit... Do you think she heard what we said?"

I went back to my desk, practically steaming from the ears.

I sat down and started working.

"Marizza this, Marizza that" like she's some big deal. "I muttered to myself, not realizing someone was listening."

"Sounds like someone's jealous of Marizza." I whipped around, irritated, but calmed down when I saw it was Blake "Daven's half-brother and my best friend."

Blake and I had been in the same class since kindergarten and all through school. It was thanks to him that I met my husband.

"Go to hell, idiot." I spat, slumping back in my chair. He just laughed and raised both hands in surrender. "I saw the news," he said, lighting a cigarette.

"Figured you did. Did you come to fawn over Marizza too?" I shot back sarcastically, crossing my arms. He smirked, exhaling the smoke in my direction. "Actually, I just wanted to make sure you weren't crying like a loser." He teased, and I punched him.

"You're the loser!" I fired back, and the idiot burst out laughing.

Even when he's being an ass, Blake always knows how to ease my stress — even if it's with the sarcastic jabs he's known for.

"Baby." I stiffened at the sound of that voice. I turned, and there was Daven, arms crossed, jaw clenched tight, as if something had pissed him off. "We're going home," he said. I nodded.

"See you later, Blake." I said goodbye and walked over to my husband.

We left the company and got in the car. The silence was suffocating, and I was dying to confront him, but I wanted to let him explain first.

"What were you talking about with my brother?" He asked as he started driving.

Seriously? There's a photo of you with another woman all over the internet, and you're worried about what I discussed with your brother? Very mature.

"We were talking about Marizza being back," I said. He tensed. "And how you went to pick her up at the airport. While we're at it, you didn't come home to sleep last night. Oh, and I didn't miss the fact that you're not wearing the same clothes as yesterday. So go ahead. Explain. Now."

He frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"It's not what you think, Evangeline."

"Oh, it's not? Because I think it's exactly what I think. Last night you left, you didn't come home, the paparazzi got pictures of you with your ex-girlfriend, and you're NOT WEARING YESTERDAY'S CLOTHES!"

"FINE!" He shouted. "It looks bad, I know. But she called and asked me to pick her up. That's all."

"You're telling me an actress of her caliber can't afford a driver to take her home? How stupid do you think I am, Daven?!" I raised my voice, and he sighed in frustration.

"I was only picking her up so no one would find out she was back in London. I don't know what happened or who tipped off the press, but I swear nothing happened between us." Despite his frustration and my doubts, I could see the truth in his eyes and the sincerity behind his words. I sighed and buried my face in my hands.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't come home to sleep, and it doesn't explain why you're wearing different clothes."

"Evangeline." Daven took my hands, pulling them away from my face. His eyes locked onto mine, serious and intense, as if he didn't like me doubting him. "After I dropped her off at her place, I went back to work. I had things to take care of, and that's why I didn't come home. This morning, I had an investor meeting, so I asked James to buy me a new suit." He paused. "If you don't believe me, you can check the company security cameras. I was there all night, baby."

A sigh of relief escaped my lips, and I pressed my face into his neck.

"Even so, I don't like you going to pick up other women. Especially not her. Don't do it again, Daven." I pleaded. He buried his nose in my hair, breathing in my scent.

"I'm sorry I made you doubt me, baby. It won't happen again, I promise." He said it with certainty, and I finally calmed down, seeking comfort in his embrace. He didn't push me away.

"I'm sorry I accused you of something you didn't do. But don't you ever pull something like that again!" I scolded him, and he smiled. "Never again. I promise."

We never brought up Marizza again. The next day, Daven used his connections to have the story scrubbed from the news and made sure our employees stopped gossiping.

I felt relieved, but this peace was only the calm before the storm.

A week had passed since Marizza returned, and to my relief, nothing had changed between Daven and me.

He was still the same attentive husband — wonderful, even. I almost believed that Marizza's return wouldn't affect our marriage. Almost.

Because she was calling him constantly, to the point where Daven had to turn off his phone.

Every time we went out to dinner, we "coincidentally" ran into her at the same places. She was still beautiful — I mean, she's an A-list actress worth millions of dollars. Everyone looks gorgeous with that kind of money.

Still, every time she drifted toward our table, my Daven focused only on me. And I could see the irritation behind Marizza's surgically-enhanced face, even as she pretended to be friendly.

Right now, I was driving to the Worwick estate. My husband had called to say there was a family dinner and we needed to attend. He had business to take care of first, so I arrived ahead of him.

As always, my in-laws welcomed me with open arms.

We chatted about the usual things, until I heard the door open and froze. There was Daven — and at his side stood Marizza. She wore a stunning red dress, her brown hair loose to her waist, and she was smiling victoriously, as if she knew something I didn't. Behind them stood Blake, watching the whole thing with amusement.

When my in-laws saw them, their warmth vanished and their expressions turned grim.

They had adored her once, of course — until she broke Daven's heart. They'd despised her ever since.

The unease inside me grew as I watched them.

"Daven?" I offered an uncomfortable smile, wanting an explanation. He just looked at me coldly "something he'd never done before. I watched as Marizza nestled against his chest, smiling, and Daven wrapped his arms around her in a protective embrace."

I thought I was going to be sick.

Daven's parents noticed my distress and stood up, positioning themselves in front of me like a shield.

"What are you doing, Daven? You can't hold another woman like that" not when your wife is standing right here. Especially not this one! "My father-in-law gestured dismissively toward Marizza, who pretended to be frightened, hiding in Daven's arms."

My husband bristled at his father's words about Marizza. He held her tighter and said:

"I'm holding my wife."

I felt like I was going to faint.

"W-What?" I managed.

He looked at me with hatred, his hands brazenly caressing every curve of Marizza's body while she watched me with a mocking smile.

"You heard me. Marizza should have been my wife from the very beginning, and you know it. She would have been my wife if you hadn't paid men to hold her captive on our wedding day!" He accused, and I staggered back.

How did he know about that? Yes, I'd considered doing it — but I never went through with it.

"That's not true!" I defended myself. "Why would I do something like that?"

A phony sob came from Marizza.

"She did it to take my place." She whimpered through crocodile tears. Daven softened and wiped them away. "No, baby. No one will ever take your place beside me. No one."

I could feel my heart shattering at that declaration of love for her. Tears flooded my face, and I could feel every eye in the room on me.

I frantically looked to Blake. I'd told him about my idea, but it was only a joke. I never went through with it.

"Blake! Please, tell him! Yes, I joked about it, but I never did it" you know that. You were with me the entire time! "I was literally begging. I needed my husband to believe me."

Blake looked at me in silence. His usual smirk was gone now that he saw me crying. He looked at his brother and nodded.

"Brother, it's true..." I felt a wave of relief, but it didn't last. "What Marizza said is true. Evangeline paid thugs to hold her on the day of the wedding. I saw it myself."

My mind was reeling. First my husband, and now my best friend — both of them were betraying me.

"N-No..." I moved toward my husband, tried to reach for him, but Marizza shoved me to the ground. From there, I could see how things truly stood. Daven held her close while she looked down at me with superiority. Blake wouldn't meet my eyes. And my in-laws... they were looking at me with disappointment, as if they believed every word they'd just heard.

"My love... Please..." My voice came out broken, strangled by the lump in my throat.

"Don't call me that, Evangeline. What you did was despicable, even for you. You knew I loved Marizza and you carried out a sick plan just to have me. You kept me from the love of my life!" With every word, I was shaking my head, but I knew nothing I did would make him listen. "I want a divorce." He threw the divorce papers at me. I looked down and saw his signature already there, as if he'd been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Even so, I didn't want to lose him. I loved him too much to let this plot tear him away from me.

"Daven... Please..." I begged, but when I looked up, I saw my husband "the love of my life" kissing Marizza as if there were no tomorrow. He was kissing her, touching her, moaning against her mouth.

My world had become a living hell.

When they pulled apart, both of them were panting with desire. Daven's eyes searched for mine, but I was no longer paying attention. I swear I felt a piece of my soul die.

I picked up a pen and signed. I slipped off my wedding ring and set it on the table.

I said nothing. I walked out of the mansion in silence, got in my car, and drove away.