The wife of a renowned designer thought I was not good enough to be seen with her.

So, when the award ceremony came, she brought along her young, handsome secretary, someone who suited her image much better.

I did not argue or make a scene. I ignored the secretary's quiet provocations and stayed perfectly calm.

My wife, taken aback by how 'sensible' I had become, must have thought I had finally given up on her.

For the first time, she did not sneer or mock me.

Instead, she spoke gently for once, and told me to stay home and wait for her. She even promised a 'big surprise' for my birthday.

I lowered my eyes and nodded, hiding the heaviness inside.

She did not know that today, I was walking away for good.

By the time I got home, the night had wrapped the world in its dark embrace.

That anonymous text on my phone was still there, untouched, as if it were waiting for me. I had not brought myself to delete it.

[Mr. Jones, are you curious about Ms. Henderson's secrets?]

Eight years of marriage, and the thought of Macie Henderson cheating had never crossed my mind.

There was a fashion magazine on the coffee table with Macie's smiling face gracing the cover.

In the interview, they asked her who she was most grateful for.

"My husband, of course. We've been together since we were kids, and now, our eighth anniversary is just around the corner.

"Without his support, I wouldn't be where I am today. He's not just my partner. He's the one who found me."

I caught sight of her face on that cover and felt a jolt of something.

Her words had gone viral, painting the picture of a designer's fairy-tale romance come to life.

People even dug up an old photo of us from eight years ago, huddled under a cramped umbrella, selling our hand-painted T-shirts, all smiles.

We were those childhood friends turned sweethearts. I passed up studying abroad to stay and build a life with her.

During tougher days, we would stretch a dollar until it screamed, and when hunger hit, instant noodles were our feast.

We would dream big in our tiny rental, the future bright before us.

Then, we had made it, but somewhere along the way, Macie had drifted.

She walked in late at night, her eyes wide at the sight of me on the couch.

"Raymond, you're still up?"

I just watched her silently.

Panic flickered across her face, then she forced a smile and pulled a small, elegant jewelry box from her pocket.

I opened the box to find a necklace tailor-made just for me, its pendant glinting with a gentle glow. It was a masterpiece, weaving in the fashion design elements she was so good at, both unique and stunning.

"One of a kind, just like our love! Haha! What do you think? Do you love it?"

She playfully changed her pitch, trying to coax a smile out of me.

Eight years together, and I could read her like a book. She only splurged on such heartfelt gifts when she felt guilty about something.

I accepted the necklace with a nonchalant air and set it aside on the nightstand, claiming fatigue, and did not give it another glance.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my shoulders. Starting a business together had taken its toll on my health, leaving me with a lingering pain that I never quite shook off.

In those early days of struggling, without money for professional treatments, Macie had taken it upon herself to learn massage techniques to ease my discomfort.

She had kept up with it ever since.

She entered the room, massage oil in hand, and noticed me awake. "Why not sleep a little longer? Is your shoulder acting up again?"

She settled in behind me and began working her magic on my tense muscles.

I tilted my head and teased, "Ms. Henderson, with your endless to-do list, should you really be giving me a massage?"

Her laughter was light as she parroted my formal address. "Ms. Henderson will always find time for your massage, no matter what."

However, as her hands worked over my shoulders, a whirlwind of emotions churned inside me.

When the massage ended, she set down the massage oil, picked up her car keys, and got ready to leave.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "Heading to the office this early?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting away guiltily. "I should head out early. There's an important meeting today."

I nodded, my eyes lingering on her retreating figure as the warmth in my smile faded into a chill.

True to form, it was not two minutes before my phone buzzed with another anonymous text.

[Ever wonder how Ms. Henderson likes it in the morning? If you're curious, come and see.]

Driven by some inexplicable urge, I trailed after her.

She did not head to the office but instead steered her car toward a secluded seaside getaway.

I tried to get in, only to be stopped by the stern-faced security guard.

"Sorry, sir. The resort is closed to visitors today."

I gestured to the car that had just passed through.

"That just went in."

"That was our guest who had booked the entire place for herself."

I stood at the gate for a solid hour, but Macie's car never reappeared.

Before long, my phone delivered another anonymous bombshell: a single video.

The footage was clearly shot in secret, the audio filled with nothing but heavy breathing.

I felt a wave of nausea hit me, but I swallowed it down with a bitter laugh.

Macie and I, back when we were dreaming up our business, had often talked about unwinding at a beach resort.

She had always brushed it off, saying we were too busy for such luxuries.

I never brought it up again, feeling a bit foolish.

However, there she was, having booked the entire place for a private affair.

The irony was not lost on me.

A sudden thought struck, and I pulled up the social media feed of Franklin Wallace, the new intern at our company.

He had just posted something.

[Got to meet up first thing in the morning. She said she's been thinking about me all night and can't wait any longer, and says she's about to burst. What can I say? I'm helpless with this woman.]

It was him all along.

After a three-hour wait, Macie finally walked through the door.

She caught sight of me still sprawled out and worry creased her brow. "Feeling under the weather? You've got to rest up more, take it slow and steady."

I offered her a wry smile. "Doesn't make a bit of difference."

"Of course it does. Stick with it, and you'll bounce back."

I let the topic drop and just mentioned I would not be heading into the office today.

Macie picked up on my sour mood, her frown deepening. "What's bothering you, Raymond? You seem down. I know I've been swamped and getting home late. You're not mad, are you?"

The thought of her with another man churned my stomach.

I forced out a response. "No, I'm not some kid to hold grudges over something so trivial."

While she was out for an afternoon client meeting, I took a chance and logged onto her computer.

The password was still our anniversary.

I opened the chat with Franklin and felt a jolt at the sight of his latest message.

A hotel room number and that smug, winking emoticon.

Macie's reply was a single word.

[Sure.]

Their exchange was too curt and too flirty. There was no hint of a professional relationship, just a secret lurking between the lines.

I could not let it go. I dove into Franklin's social media and lurked in his private album.

There were photos with telltale signs in the background: Macie's signature limited edition watch, the unique trinket from her desk.

One even had a glimpse of her in the corner, her profile blurred but unmistakable to me.

I should have been wary of Franklin from the start.

He was the spitting image of my younger self: charming, handsome, with that same wild streak.

Ever since he started working at the company, he shot up the ladder, landing right by Macie's side as her assistant.

I had always trusted Macie's love for me, never once suspecting she would turn her back on us.

However, then, it looks like my trust was just her free pass to do as she pleased.

I got back from the embassy with my visa late in the evening.

Macie rang me up to join a staff dinner.

Just outside the private room, I caught Macie's voice.

"Hey, when Mr. Jones gets here, no one's to get him drinking, okay? The guy's not in the best shape for booze. Anyone itching for a drink, you come to me!"

Her voice was bubbling with laughter. Peeking through the door, I spotted her in a sleek black gown, her arms pale and striking.

The room burst into cheers.

I swung the door open, and all eyes were on me.

Macie, as if she had seen it coming, got up and made her way through the crowd to grab my hand.

"We all know Ms. Henderson's head over heels for her hubby. We're just here for the show to see her spoil her man."

I could not help but put on a wry smile. "Ms. Henderson's married to her work, alright. I'm her husband, and I barely catch a glimpse of her. She didn't get home until midnight yesterday, and by dawn, she was out the door again."

Mentioning that morning seemed to hit a nerve. Macie's face went through a quick series of emotional changes, her guilt plain as day.

Right then, the waiter came in with the drinks.

Dressed to the nines in a tailcoat, he was the picture of elegance, like he had stepped right out of a medieval portrait.

The ladies could not take their eyes off him.

As he set down the wine, he shot Macie a sly wink, almost too quick to catch.

He left, and one of the guys muttered under his breath, "Can't we even grab a bite without a side of drama now?"

My colleague still was not over it. "What's the big deal if someone dresses sharp? You guys could learn a thing or two."

The argument buzzed on, but Macie slipped away to the ladies' room.

Time ticked by, and she had not come back.

The waiter's sly wink at Macie earlier flashed in my mind, sending a chill through me. I got up and hurried after her.

Reaching the door, I caught a strange noise from the stairwell.

Peeking through the door, I saw the waiter's chest under the soft touch of a woman's hands.

"Why do you gotta look so good, huh? Trying to get my attention?"

He chuckled and added, "Your husband's back in the room, and here you are with me. Not scared he'll catch on?"

"What's to be scared of? It's just a fling. It won't change anything for him. I'm not worried."

I could not bear to listen anymore.

She had become a stranger to me despite all our years together.

It turned out that the thrill of something new could shatter years of love so easily.

Everyone thought Macie loved me, but who could have guessed that she had that dark side?

I forced myself to stay cool and snuck back to our room.

When they asked about Macie, I just smiled and shook my head, though it felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

Macie finally returned after an eternity, looking utterly content.

She reached for me, but I instinctively pulled away.

"What's up, Raymond? You don't look so good. Something wrong?"

"Must've been something I ate. I feel sick."

Worried about me, she decided to cut the evening short.

…

A couple of days later, Macie was all set for a swanky fashion designer party.

She batted her eyes and asked, "Are you coming? I'll be all by myself without you. Everyone else will have a date."

I gave her a frosty reply. "I might be tied up. Why don't you see if the secretary can fill in?"

She paused, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, before her laughter rang out again. "A secretary can't match your thoughtfulness."

I let out a derisive chuckle and fell silent.

That evening, my phone buzzed with a new message.

[Aren't you curious about where your wife is at the moment?]

Attached was a photo of a deserted restroom, unmistakably the one at the party venue.

…

I tracked down the source of the noise and as I approached the door, Franklin's voice floated out.

"I was starting to think you didn't care about me anymore."

Macie's voice was a hushed, icy blade.

"If you want this to last, play by the rules. We're nothing more than a brief fling. Cross my husband, and you'll regret it."