My husband is a tattoo artist, but he never allows me to visit his workplace. On Thanksgiving, my friend Willa, who delivers food, got hit by a car, so I helped her with her last delivery. When I opened the delivery app, I was shocked to see that the destination was my husband's workplace. Just as I reached the entrance, I overheard his familiar voice.

"If she weren't useful for covering the mortgage, I would have divorced her ages ago."

"It's laughable that she thinks I can't live without her."

Furious, I tossed the little packet into the trash, but rather than expressing remorse, my husband filed a complaint against me. When I suggested a divorce, he gladly accepted.

"The house and car are mine. Good luck surviving on your own!"

"Don't ever mention that we were married; I can't bear that shame. You're nothing to me now!"

Little did he know, he wasn't just losing me, but any connection to my family's billion-dollar empire.

---

"Sorry, babe, a customer just walked in. I can't spend tonight with you," Callahan Ryan's voice sounded regretful over the phone, carefully trying to gauge my reaction.

I checked the delivery platform app. The orders were flooding in today; a night of work could bring in five or six hundred dollars. Just the other day, Callahan mentioned wanting the latest smartphone, but the price had held him back. Working tonight, I could buy it for him as a surprise gift.

"It's fine. We can celebrate Valentine's Day anytime. As long as I’m with you, every day is Valentine's Day," I murmured into the biting wind, trying to reassure him.

"Yeah..." Callahan responded, sounding a bit raspy. If I listened closely, I could make out heavy breathing and the sound of splashing water.

"Honey, are you okay? I think I hear water on your end?" I worried about the recent chill and the possibility of him catching a cold. Before I could finish, Callahan hastily explained, sounding flustered.

"Oh, no, nothing. Just disinfecting for a client. Gotta go, bye!"

Before I could respond, he hung up abruptly.

Just then, Willa called, "Hey, Alejandra, I've been hit by a car. I have a delivery that's almost due; can you cover for me?"

Willa had been guiding me since I started, showing me the ropes on how to be efficient. During lunch rushes, she’d even grab an extra meal for me. So when she asked for help, I agreed without hesitation.

"Send it over to me, then."

When I received the order, I realized it was for two packs of condoms. As the clerk packed them up, we exchanged knowing glances with a few fellow couriers.

After picking up the package, I hurried out and hopped onto my bike, but when I saw the delivery address, I froze. I refreshed the page multiple times, disbelieving, but it kept showing Callahan's workplace with his name and contact.

I remained stunned until the honking of a frustrated driver behind me jolted me back to reality.

My husband is a tattoo artist, but he's never allowed me to visit him at work. I thought he might be embarrassed by my delivery job, but every time I suggested visiting, he brushed me off.

"What's there to see about tattoos? It's just drawing on people's skin."

Despite my jealousy over his female clients and the fact they had to undress for their sessions, he reassured me, holding my face in his hands, "Don’t worry, babe. You're the only one I love. They mean nothing to me."

But now, clutching those two packs of condoms, my emotions were all over the place.

I sped towards his workplace, the bike reaching its maximum speed. Even if I'm to face heartbreak, I need to confront it head-on.

As I arrived at the tattoo shop, my hand hesitated on the door handle when I heard unmistakable sounds of intimacy from inside.

Three years of marriage with Callahan Ryan meant I knew his voice in moments of passion all too well. My heart felt as if it were being squeezed, making it hard to breathe.

I stood outside the door, gathering the courage to walk in.

Truth be told, Callahan had always been gentle and considerate. He never looked down on me for delivering food, earning praise from everyone who knew us. Even during my toughest times, he never thought of abandoning me.

So, as I listened to the sounds coming from inside, part of me hoped I was mistaken or that it wasn't him.

But as I finally pushed the door open and took in the scene, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze.

Clothes were strewn all over the floor, and the stockings were torn into pieces. I immediately recognized the crumpled light blue shirt on the ground—Callahan Ryan’s birthday gift from me. That shirt set me back over $1,500, and I’d worked extra shifts for a week straight to afford it. When Callahan unwrapped it, there wasn’t a trace of delight on his face; instead, his eyes brimmed with tears as he clasped my cold, swollen hands with a mix of pity.

"Honey, you must be freezing," he had murmured.

Who would've guessed he’d wear the shirt I gifted him while fooling around with another woman?

I slowly approached the rear of the studio, where the noise was originating. Through the crack in the door, I could finally see the entwined pair inside.

My breath caught in my throat as if someone had hit me over the head. They were so absorbed in each other they didn’t even notice me standing at the door. The woman was completely naked, sprawled on the bed in a bizarre pose, and my husband, Callahan Ryan, was hovering above her. Her body was wrapped around Callahan like a snake, her back almost entirely covered in tattoos that I instantly recognized as his work.

“Sis, isn’t this position just wild?” Callahan’s voice was ragged and heavy, just like it was when he was on the phone with me earlier. So this was the "client" he had referred to.

Thinking about how he’d been talking to me on the phone while caught up in such a sordid act with another woman made my blood boil. Anger engulfed my senses.

As I was about to barge in to confront these two lovers, I heard the woman laugh derisively. Her tone was dripping with disdain. “Aren’t you scared your useless wife will find out you're with me on Thanksgiving?”

To my shock, Callahan merely laughed, responding dismissively. “What does it matter if she finds out? She’s useless. Even if she does, all I have to do is apologize, and she’ll forgive me like a loyal dog.”

I could hardly believe these words were coming out of his mouth. “If it weren’t for the fact she helps with the mortgage, I would've divorced her ages ago. She thinks I can’t survive without her. It’s laughable. Don’t worry, she won’t dare divorce me; if she does, she’ll walk away with nothing.”

My fists clenched tightly in fury, vision blurring with outrage. When I married Callahan, I had contributed all the money I’d saved over the years for the down payment, never even requesting my name be on the title. If I divorced him, all the houses and cars would be beyond my grasp.

The vows I made to the one I loved had turned into daggers, leaving me no escape. The couple on the bed was wrapped up in their fantasy, oblivious to my burning glare from the door crack. As I watched them shift positions repeatedly, I swallowed hard to quash the flames of anger rising in my throat. The fury roiled within me, constricting my chest with unbearable pressure.

Even as my rage reached its peak, my reason prevailed because I knew storming in to confront the woman wouldn’t resolve anything. Callahan would still want a divorce, and I’d end up with nothing but an empty apartment. It wouldn’t benefit me.

I forced myself to calm down, pulled out my phone, and began recording every detail of the scene. With the evidence captured, I quietly closed the door. Callahan must have heard something as he glanced sharply towards the entrance, but the woman beneath him drew his attention back. “Focus, babe, just a little longer.”

A sharp slap echoed, and Callahan smacked her on the rear, picking up speed. Hearing the sounds of their heated exchange from inside, I swallowed my disgust and tossed the packet of condoms into the trash bin downstairs. Had they really cheated on me and still expected me to deliver their protection? No chance!

Back at home, I took an early shower and lay on the bed. But every time I closed my eyes, the image of Callahan pinning that woman down replayed in my mind. No rational person would tolerate such humiliation.

I resolved, silently and fiercely, not only to reclaim everything they owed me but also to make sure they faced severe consequences for their betrayal.