“Honey, shall we make a baby?”, as Scarlett whispered, her warm breath tickling my skin, I could no longer keep up the facade.

Without a word, I gently pushed her away and rushed into the bathroom. Scrubbing every inch of skin she had touched until it was red, I finally slumped against the wall, my body trembling.

A child? Did she really think I didn’t know? Inside her, she was already carrying Carter' child. What made her think I’d ever be willing to raise another man’s child?

After what felt like an eternity, I stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a mask of calm. Feigning concern, I asked, “When’s your next mission?”

“In three days. It’s a big operation.”. She hesitated, then added apologetically, “Honey, I’m so sorry. It’s on our anniversary, so I won’t be able to spend it with you.”

I forced a smile, “It’s okay. Just try to come home early afterward. I’ve prepared a gift for you.”

Scarlett’s face lit up with an unrestrained smile. “Okay! I’ll be the first to rush back and see the surprise my husband has for me!”

I turned away, and my smile vanished instantly. Will seeing my lifeless body surprise you?

***

The next morning, Scarlett woke me up with her usual tricks, igniting heat across my body. “Hubby, the team’s having a get-together at the headquarters restaurant today. Come with me. But for now, let’s... well…”

Pretending not to catch her hint, I got up and headed straight to the bathroom. A flicker of confusion crossed Scarlett’s face.

Later that day, using my cover as an ordinary civilian, I passed through the headquarters' security checks with ease.

As I entered the restaurant, I could hear snippets of conversation among the team, “The intelligence analyst isn’t coming again, huh? He’s way too mysterious.”

“Yeah, we’ve been working with him for three or four years now, and none of us have ever seen him. All I know is that he’s young.”

“In my opinion, that analyst has feelings for Scarlett. Every time there’s intel, she’s always the first one he informs.”

I lowered my head, hiding my expression. They weren’t wrong. I had joined this mess because of Scarlett.

She’d been determined to become an agent, and I couldn’t bear to stand in the way of her dream. So I had accepted the Secret Service’s invitation, with one condition: whenever there was intel, I’d be the first to relay it to her squad. And that was how I first learned of her betrayal. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Scarlett, noticing my change in demeanor, turned to the team with a sharp glare.

“What’s with all this nonsense?” she snapped.

The team members scrambled to their feet like schoolchildren caught misbehaving.

“Scarlett, we didn’t mean anything by it! Please don’t take it to heart, brother-in-law.”

“Yeah, everyone here knows Scarlett only loves you. Every time she’s on a mission, she always takes your picture with her.”

“Exactly! She calls you whenever she can. You’re all she thinks about!” Their earnest faces would have convinced anyone. Anyone who didn’t already know the truth.

Across the room, Carter sat in the corner. Slowly, he stood, his face smug with satisfaction. “Henry,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Our eyes locked, and the undisguised hostility in his gaze was palpable. If Scarlett weren’t here, he wouldn’t have bothered to put on the charade.

At the dinner table, Scarlett played the perfect wife, peeling shrimp for me, filling my plate, and speaking with a sweet, gentle tone. The rest of the team cooed and teased us like we were a couple from a romance novel.

But Carter’s expression darkened as he drank glass after glass of liquor, his mood sinking further with each sip.

After three rounds of drinks, even I felt slightly lightheaded.

Carter stumbled out of the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Moments later, Scarlett received a message. She abruptly stood up, her cheeks and earlobes turning crimson.

When she noticed my questioning gaze, she quickly composed herself, forcing a calm tone.

“Honey, I was injured during the last mission, and the doctor advised me not to drink. I’ll head to the infirmary for a bit. You stay here and enjoy yourself with the others.”

With hurried steps, she left the room. A soft vibration came from my pocket—her message.

[Come to Room 302. There’s a surprise.]

The tone was cold, unlike Scarlett's usual warmth. Was it Carter’s provocation?

I lowered my gaze and ignored it, quietly pulling out my phone and accessing the intranet’s surveillance feed instead. The scene unfolding on the screen was nothing short of debauchery.

Carter, now dressed in a sheer, water-soaked shirt, leaned against Scarlett with predatory confidence. His toned muscles glistened under the light, exuding an allure Scarlett couldn’t seem to resist. Her flushed face and dreamy gaze betrayed her eagerness as she lay on the bed, waiting.

Carter grinned, satisfied, as he leaned in closer. But today, Scarlett seemed more impatient than usual, urging Carter to hurry up. She had no time for foreplay or idle talk—she was focused only on satisfying her desires so she could return home to play the role of a “loving wife.”

But then Scarlett’s eyes caught something on her phone—a message Carter had sent without her knowledge.

Her blood ran cold. The haze of passion dissipated in an instant. Scarlett shot up from the bed, her voice sharp and laced with fury. “You’d better hope my husband didn’t see this, or I’ll make sure you regret it!”

She stormed out of the room, ignoring Carter’s desperate pleas to stay. Her heels clattered loudly against the stairs as she rushed down, nearly twisting her ankle in her frantic pace.

But the fear of what awaited her if I had seen that message far outweighed the pain. Terrifying thoughts raced through her mind. “Did Henry see the message? Did he go to Room 302?” The consequences were too awful to imagine.

When Scarlett finally pushed open the restaurant door and saw me sitting calmly at the table, she exhaled a long breath of relief.

She threw herself into my arms, gasping for air. “Honey… you didn’t see the message I sent, right?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “My phone died earlier. What message? Was it important?”

Relief flooded her features. Her voice turned syrupy sweet, like honey dripping from a comb. “It’s nothing. Just having you by my side is all that matters.”

The other team members chuckled and began to tease her.

“Scarlett, the tigress, has turned into a kitten!”

“Henry, you have no idea. Scarlett is the strongest, scariest woman on the team. But today, she’s all soft and sweet!”

“Tsk, tsk. Henry, you should come around more often. Maybe Scarlett will stop scolding us so much!”

The room erupted in laughter.

***

Moments later, Carter entered, his face composed, though the flicker of bitterness in his eyes was unmistakable. “Yes, with Henry here, Scarlett seems so… different,” he said, his smile just wide enough to mask his spite.

He raised his glass in a toast. “To Henry—take good care of Scarlett. There are quite a few folks in the General Agents Department with their eye on her.”

I played along, feigning interest. “Oh? Is that so? Who in particular?”

Carter raised an eyebrow, his grin turning smug. “Well, there’s someone on this very team who admires her.”

Scarlett’s face darkened instantly, her smile faltering as panic flickered in her eyes. She forced a laugh, her tone overly light. “Don’t be ridiculous, Carter. Honey, he’s just joking.”

Carter leaned back in his chair, his expression defiant. “Of course, Henry, it’s just casual talk. Don’t read too much into it.”

But his tone betrayed his intentions—he wanted me to doubt her. Scarlett, clearly rattled, quickly tugged on my arm, her voice trembling slightly. “Let’s go home, Henry.”

I nodded, rising to my feet. The air between us felt heavy with unspoken truths as we left the restaurant together.

As we left the restaurant, I caught Carter' gaze lingering on me—a deliberate provocation, a silent dare. The drive home was tense, the car thick with unspoken words.

Scarlett tried to break the silence, her voice overly cheerful as she talked about mundane things. But I didn’t respond, keeping my eyes on the road, my grip on the steering wheel tight.

Later that night, as we lay in bed, Scarlett curled up against me, her slender arms draped across my back.

It was then I spoke, my voice soft yet cutting. “Scarlett, why do you smell like someone else? A scent I’ve noticed before... but not on you.”

Her body stiffened instantly. She shot out of bed, retreating into the bathroom so quickly it was almost comical. “That must be the disinfectant from the infirmary!” she called out, her voice trembling. “I’ll just take a quick shower. You don’t have to wait up, honey.”

I lay there listening to the water run, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. Two more days. Two more days, and this will all be over.

***

The next day, I woke to the scent of food wafting into the bedroom. It was nearly noon. Scarlett entered with a radiant smile, her voice sweet as honey. “Darling, wake up. I made all your favorites!”

At the dining table, she sat across from me, her eyes glued to my face as I ate. “I’m staying home today,” she declared. “I want to spend every second with you. Just you and me, together forever.”

For the rest of the day, she stayed true to her word. She clung to me like a shadow, ignoring her constantly buzzing phone.

We watched cheesy dramas, played old two-player games, and laughed at nothing in particular. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like the old days. Almost. But I knew better.

As night fell, the doorbell rang, breaking the illusion. Scarlett rose to answer, her voice light. “Who could that be at this hour?” Her tone shifted abruptly when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Carter’s voice followed, low and pitiful. “I had nowhere else to go. Won’t you let me in?”

When he stepped inside and saw me, his face lit with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Henry! I didn’t realize you’d be here. My hotel had issues, and Scarlett mentioned you had a guest room. I hope it’s not too much trouble?”

I glanced at Scarlett, whose face had paled, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Of course,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Make yourself at home.”

I excused myself to fetch some spare pajamas while Scarlett led Carter to the guest room.

***

Upstairs, I moved quietly, making sure to stay within earshot. I heard Scarlett’s sharp whisper, filled with barely restrained anger.

“Are you out of your mind? What do you think you’re doing?”

Carter’s reply was soft, pleading. “I miss you, Scarlett. I miss our child.” There was a brief pause before Scarlett hissed, her voice colder now.

“Shut up! The child I’m carrying belongs to my husband. Do you understand?”

But Carter wasn’t deterred. I heard the faint rustle of movement, the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

Perhaps the wedding photos on the walls had fueled his recklessness, but he was relentless, clinging to Scarlett as if she were his lifeline.

Their muffled whispers continued for several agonizing minutes before Scarlett seemed to regain control. “No,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “My husband is upstairs. This is insane.”

Carter chuckled lowly. “He’ll never hear us. The master bedroom is on the second floor, and we’re on the first. Come find me when he’s asleep.”

The sound of his arrogance made my blood boil, but I kept my composure. I knocked lightly on the door and entered.

“Captain Brooks,” I said, holding out a set of pajamas. “These were a gift from Scarlett. I haven’t worn them yet. I hope you don’t mind.”

Carter took them, feigning surprise. “If Scarlett picked them out, I’m sure they’re perfect. Thank you, Henry.” His eyes didn’t leave Scarlett, who stood frozen in place, her expression unreadable.

Before I left, Scarlett practically shoved me out of the room, muttering excuses about needing to show Carter around.

***

That night, Scarlett waited until she thought I was asleep before slipping out of bed. She left the bedroom quietly, the soft click of the door closing behind her barely audible.

I didn’t follow. I didn’t need to. Under my roof, in our shared home, their betrayal felt more brazen, more deliberate. Perhaps the thrill of getting away with it was part of the appeal.

But the clock was ticking. Two more days.