Anthony’s eyes could not help shaking after hearing that. “She….”

But before he could respond properly, one of his friends interjected, laughing, “No, she’s my friend! But come on, if she’s at the party, we’re all friends, right?

“I actually introduced her to Anthony when his secretary resigned. She was majoring in secretary, so it seemed like a good fit.”

“Right,” another friend added, nudging Anthony playfully. “Having a secretary you already know must be fun, huh, Anthony?”

I caught the faint blush that crept across Anthony’s face, but I kept my expression neutral, feigning innocence.

“I see,” I said with a polite smile, “so she’s someone you can trust.”

The room erupted into laughter, as if I had no idea what was really going on. They thought I was clueless.

Then the door swung open, and someone announced, “Here she comes—our Julie!”

Julie entered, her laughter filling the room as she greeted everyone. It was like she was their star performer, the favorite child in a room full of admirers.

As she chatted with the group, Julie began boasting loudly about being pregnant. Her hand stroked her stomach in exaggerated motions, and everyone rushed to congratulate her.

I leaned in close to Anthony and whispered, “Who’s the father? I thought one of your requirements for hiring a secretary was that they couldn’t get married within five years of applying. Julie’s only been with you for a few months.”

Anthony shifted nervously. “Well… I changed the policy. I didn’t want to lose another secretary just because they wanted to get married.”

“Oh, so she’s married then?” I pressed, my voice calm but cutting.

“She….” Anthony stammered, searching for an answer.

But before he could finish, Julie approached us, beaming with delight.

“Oh my god, you’re Mrs. Harris, right? I’ve been such a huge fan of yours for ages!” she gushed.

Julie did not even wait for my response before sitting beside me, chatting animatedly.

“You know, everyone at the office is always talking about how you and Mr. Harris met. What a love story! So romantic.”

While Julie leaned in closer to me, Anthony shifted uncomfortably, choosing to busy himself with the others.

So, after seeing Anthony did not focus on us anymore, her tone turned conspiratorial as she said, “You know, I used to be so jealous of your love story. I mean, who wouldn’t dream of a husband like yours? But guess what—my dream came true!”

She giggled, her hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear in what she likely thought was a charming gesture.

“Oh, really?” I replied dryly, my patience running thin.

Julie lowered her voice, as though we were best friends sharing secrets. “Yeah, it’s a secret, but he’s as handsome as yours.”

The audacity of her words made my blood boil, but I refused to let her see me falter. Instead, I maintained a blank expression.

“Anyway,” she chirped, “can I add you on IG? We should totally hang out sometime—maybe get facials together or something!”

I handed over my username without protest. “Sure,” I said simply.

After adding me, she linked her arm through mine as if we were old friends, rattling on about her boyfriend who gave her an apartment, a company, and even an island.

She did not realize her careless boasting provided me with valuable evidence to strengthen my case for divorce.

Finally, I interrupted her, forcing a polite smile. “Can you excuse me for a moment? I need to use the restroom.”

Julie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, perfect timing! I need to go too. Let’s go together.”

Reluctantly, I let her follow me.

But, as we reached the restroom door, Julie accidentally dropped her bag, scattering its contents.

Among the items was an ultrasound photo. She bent down to gather her things, flashing me a smug smile.

“Oops, you saw my baby, right? Yes, I’m pregnant—with Anthony’s child.”

I knew it. She intended to mock me again.

But I did not give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Without a word, I stepped into the restroom, leaving her to pick up her things.

When I emerged, Julie was waiting at the sink, her voice as grating as ever.

“You are so lucky to have a husband like Anthony who is really romantic,” she said, as if we were gossiping about boys at a sleepover. “But unfortunately, you can’t give him satisfaction. He even said that touching every inch of my body gave her more pleasure than yours.

“Oh, and Mrs. Harris, didn’t you see us in the elevator? That’s actually our habit, so don’t act surprised by that when you find out later.

“And wasn’t that you at the hospital? Or did I mistake you for someone else? But we really checked on our baby there, it’s been 4 weeks.”

She leaned closer, her voice lowering mockingly. “What’s certain is that we’ll be a family soon, so can I call you Daisy instead of Mrs. Harris?”

Her words sent a surge of anger through me, but I kept my composure, clutching my bag tightly as I stayed at the restroom.

When I opened the door, she had gone, so I washed my hand on the sink angrily. I swear I would yank her hair if I saw her later.

But when I returned to the party, my blood ran cold.

I stood at the door and watched the scene happening inside. It was simply disgusting.

Julie was perched on Anthony’s lap, her arms draped around his neck as she laughed mischievously.

I clenched my fists, my fury barely contained. Julie had no shame, and Anthony… he used any chance to get closer with her when I was not around, without considering I could be returned anytime.

Anthony’s focus was entirely on Julie. He did not even notice that I had returned and was standing in the doorway, watching them.

Some of his friends glanced at me, their expressions a mix of awkwardness and indifference.

But, none of them commented on my presence. Instead, they egged Anthony on, urging him to do a love shot with Julie.

“Come on, Anthony, show the world how happy you two are!” one of them teased, laughing as if this was all some grand joke.

Fueled by alcohol, Anthony complied, pulling Julie closer as the scene grew more intimate.

Laughter and cheers erupted, filling the room with a sickening camaraderie that left me frozen in place.

It was heartbreaking.

These were the same people who had never supported my relationship with Anthony, even after we were married.

Yet there they were, openly celebrating his affair with Julie, acting as though she was the rightful woman by his side.

I could feel my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. But I decided to turn and left the bar without looking back.

“Enjoy the night, Anthony,” I said, my voice low but cutting.

Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, drenching me almost instantly. It mirrored my mood perfectly.

I did not hail a taxi. Instead, I ran into the downpour, letting it hide the tears streaming down my face.

Mascara and eyeliner mixed with the rain, streaking my face in chaotic lines. My hair clung to my skin, and my dress was soaked through, but I did not care.

I looked like an insane person—crying, drenched, and disheveled. But at least the storm gave me cover to vent my anger, my heartbreak, and my despair.

Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.

[Anthony: Where are you?]

[Daisy: Going home, since I'm not feeling well. Just enjoy the party, don't mind me.]

[Anthony: Okay, take care. I think I will go home late, so just call me if you need something.]

I did not bother replying again. There was no need—after all, I already knew the real reason he would be staying late.

Once home, I drew a hot bath, sinking into the water as if it could wash away the storm inside me.

The heat wrapped around me, but my body, overwhelmed by heartbreak and the hours spent drenched in rain, began to falter.

I must have passed out in the bathtub. When I finally stirred, an IV was in my hand, and I was lying in a hospital bed. Anthony was sitting nearby, his face filled with concern.

But it was not just Anthony. Julie was there too.

I blinked several times, unsure if I was hallucinating. But no, it was her, sitting with feigned politeness, her presence a mockery of everything I had endured.

Anthony noticed I was awake and immediately took my hand. “Are you finally awake?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry.

I met his gaze coldly and sneered, “Are you actually worried?”

His brow furrowed, and he gripped my hand tighter. “You passed out all night and only woke up at 9 this morning. Imagine how worried I was!

“You said you weren’t feeling well last night, why didn’t you tell me it was this serious? I would’ve taken you here right away if I’d known.”

His words spilled out, leaving me no room to respond. Julie, seated nearby, rolled her eyes but said nothing.

Anthony’s affection used to melt my heart, but at that moment, it felt like nothing more than an act.

I pulled my hand away sharply. “You’re squeezing me too hard. The IV pricked me.”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry.” He stood up quickly. “I’ll call the doctor to check on you.”

Then, turning to Julie, he added, “Please take care of Daisy for a moment.”

Julie responded with her usual saccharine tone, “Yes, Mr. Harris.”

As soon as Anthony left, I turned my face away, unwilling to look at her. Julie, surprisingly, kept quiet and simply sat beside my bed.

Perhaps she understood the need to maintain appearances in public.

Just then, a notification popped up on my phone, which was resting on the bedside table. My US visa approval had come through. Julie, ever curious, noticed it immediately.

“Well,” she said, her tone casual but probing, “we don’t need a visa to vacation in the US. Are you planning to stay forever?”

I snatched my phone from the table. “That’s none of your business,” I snapped.

Before she could respond, Anthony returned with the doctor, and I tucked my phone out of sight.

After a brief examination, the doctor informed me that I could be discharged the next day if my fever continued to subside.

Breakfast was brought in shortly after, and Anthony, in his usual overbearing way, insisted on feeding me.

“I can eat by myself,” I said firmly.

“Are you embarrassed because Julie’s here?” he teased, misreading my mood entirely.

Julie, ever the opportunist, smiled politely. “Oh, that’s right. I shouldn’t intrude. Forgive me. I’ll head to the office and handle your work for today, Mr. Harris.”

“Right. Please take care of things, Julie,” Anthony said, nodding at her.

She grabbed her bag and flashed me a sweet, insincere smile. “Get well soon, Mrs. Harris.” Then she left, her exit as calculated as her presence.

The moment the door closed, I suppressed the urge to confront Anthony.

I already knew the truth. They had been together when the maid called Anthony about my condition, and he had not left Julie behind.

The world might think it was normal for a secretary to accompany her boss, but I knew better. They could fool everyone else, but they could not fool me.

Anthony, oblivious to my thoughts, resumed feeding me. “I actually planned a vacation to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” he said, trying to sound thoughtful. “But with your health, it might have to wait.”

So, he did remember our anniversary. How ironic.

I smiled faintly, masking my disgust. “That’s okay. A gift is enough for me. We can vacation anytime.”

“Great. I’ll make sure it’s something luxurious,” he said, clearly satisfied with his plans.

I nodded, my voice soft. “I’ll have something for you too.”

His face lit up with childlike excitement. “Really? I can’t wait to see it!”

As he yawned, I asked, “Did you not sleep all night?”

“I’m fine. I’m used to staying up late for work,” he replied, brushing it off.

“No, no. You need to rest. After breakfast, go to sleep. I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

He hesitated but eventually nodded, “Then I’ll sleep on the sofa for a few hours.”

Within minutes, he was soundly asleep, his even breaths filling the room.

I glanced at him, ensuring he was truly out, and then reached for his phone. The more evidence I gathered, the sooner I could escape this nightmare of a marriage.

Just as I unlocked his phone, both our phones buzzed simultaneously.

It was making my heart leap.

So, I immediately glanced at Anthony, expecting him to not wake up. Fortunately, exhaustion kept him firmly asleep.

I checked his phone first.

Julie had messaged him, [You have to pay because last night we didn’t get to enjoy our time together as promised, okay?]

Accompanying her message were photos of tourist destinations in Japan.

[Julie: When I was scrolling through tourist attractions, Japan kept appearing on my homepage. It seems like a sign that we should go there. You said you wanted to celebrate my pregnancy, right? So how about a babymoon in Japan tomorrow?]

Since Anthony had not replied, Julie sent another message—a photo of her with a pleading expression.

[Julie: Please, our baby will love it too.]

The sight of her theatrics made my stomach churn. “That’s so disgusting,” I muttered under my breath.

Before scrolling further through their chat, I switched to my own phone. Julie had sent me several provocative messages.

[Julie: You were sick on purpose to prevent me from being alone with Anthony last night, right? I didn’t expect you to be so cunning after I told you about our relationship.]

Attached were photos of her and Anthony, including one of him sleeping naked next to her.

[Julie: Our relationship has come this far, so you can’t even do anything about it, Daisy. We even have a baby, so I hope you’ll just accept it without causing trouble.]

She followed it up with a warning, [We’ll go to Japan tomorrow, so make sure not to disturb us anymore, or I’ll share proof of our affair online.]

How dare she threaten me!

Her arrogance burned through me like a flame, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing my anger. I kept my response short, [Just go.]

The moment I sent the message, Julie’s name lit up Anthony’s phone, her call coming through almost instantly. My stomach churned with disgust, but I forced myself to remain composed.

I quickly locked Anthony’s phone and reached over to wake him.

“Anthony, your phone is ringing,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “It might be something urgent from the office.”

Anthony stirred, groggily rubbing his eyes as he reached for the phone. He answered it, and within moments, his posture stiffened, his voice growing sharp and alert.

“I need to go,” he said abruptly, already grabbing his jacket.

I glanced at him, my expression unreadable.

“Just go,” I replied coldly, echoing the exact words I had sent to Julie earlier.

He paused for a moment, his gaze softening. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on my forehead.

“Make sure to rest and take your medicine,” he murmured before rushing out the door.

As the sound of the door closing echoed through the room, I released a breath I did not realize I had been holding.

I stared at the empty space he had left behind, the void a perfect metaphor for what remained of our marriage.

Later at night, just as I had predicted, Anthony did not return to the hospital. Instead, a message from him arrived.

[Anthony: Daisy, I have a business trip to Japan and have to leave soon. I’ll ask the butler to pick you up at the hospital tomorrow. Please take care of yourself, and I promise I’ll bring you the best anniversary gift.]

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. ‘The best anniversary gift?’ I thought darkly.

Well, his gift that year was truly best of the best if compared with the past one, so best until shocked me to the core.

Shortly after, another notification lit up my phone—my request to delete my identity had been approved and I could use my new identity.

The timing could not have been better. While Anthony was jetting off to Japan with Julie to celebrate their twisted affair, I would be erasing myself from his life for good.

**

The next day, I wasted no time. My body still felt weak from the fever, but my resolve gave me strength. I carefully prepared for my departure, ensuring every detail was accounted for.

Instead of selling my belongings as I had before, I donated them to an auction whose proceeds would benefit disaster victims. It felt symbolic—turning the remnants of my life with Anthony into something meaningful for someone else.

Among my belongings, I prepared a special gift for Anthony. A sleek, elegant box containing the credit cards he had given me, the keys to the luxury car parked in the driveway, and the divorce papers I had signed.

Inside, I also placed a simple handwritten note, [I wish you happiness with your new woman.]

Then, I left the box in Anthony’s study, knowing he would find it when he returned.

However, what I did not anticipate was the relentless buzzing of my phone throughout the day.

Notification after notification lit up the screen, each one a cruel reminder that Julie had no intention of letting me grieve in peace.

She sent photo after photo—pictures of her and Anthony in intimate moments, flaunted shamelessly as if to twist the knife deeper into my heart.

Each image was more audacious than the last: Julie laughing in Anthony’s arms, a selfie of them sharing a private dinner, his hand resting on her growing belly.

[Julie: You should see how happy we are together. This is why you should just give up, Daisy.]

Another messages were also relentless, filled with taunts and provocations, but they did not faze me anymore.

Instead of letting her words get to me, I calmly pulled out my SIM card and tossed it into the trash can in my bedroom.

I no longer needed it.

I no longer needed anything that tied me to Daisy Paul.

I took one final look at the social media accounts I had painstakingly built over the years, then deleted them all with a few taps.

“Goodbye, Daisy Paul,” I whispered to the empty room, feeling a strange mix of sadness and relief.

I was no longer her. I was Valerie Keith, beginning a new chapter of my life, untethered from the past.