Chapter 1 – The Kiss That Shattered My Anniversary
I still remember the exact moment my life split in two.
It was our twenty-second anniversary, and I had decided to surprise Dunstan at the clinic where he was supposed to be getting a routine checkup.
I had made reservations at his favorite restaurant and even bought a new dress.
But when I walked through the glass doors of the luxury cosmetic surgery clinic, the first thing I saw was my husband.
He was standing near the reception desk, his hands on the waist of a woman half his age.
And he was kissing her.
Not a friendly peck—a full, passionate kiss that made my stomach drop.
I froze.
My legs felt like they were filled with concrete.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating.
But the woman pulled back and laughed at something Dunstan whispered.
Her blonde hair swung as she tilted her head, and that’s when I recognized her.
Keely.
The “assistant” from his office.
The one he said was like a little sister to him.
I must have made a sound because Dunstan turned.
His face went white.
“Azalea,” he stammered.
“What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t speak.
I just stared at him, then at her.
Keely looked confused, then annoyed.
“Who is this?” she asked, her voice sharp.
Dunstan opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
I found my voice.
“I’m his wife,” I said.
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Keely’s eyes widened.
“Wife?”
She looked at Dunstan.
“You said you were divorced.”
Dunstan took a step toward me, his hands up.
“Azalea, let me explain.”
“Explain what?”
I said.
“That you’re cheating on me with a woman young enough to be your daughter?”
He flinched.
Keely grabbed her purse from the counter.
“I don’t need this,” she muttered and started to walk away.
But I wasn’t done.
I noticed a piece of paper on the counter—a treatment invoice.
It had Keely’s name on it and a list of procedures: liposuction, breast augmentation, a facelift.
The total was over twenty thousand dollars.
My eyes moved to the payment method line.
And that’s when my blood ran cold.
The invoice said the payment was made from an account I knew all too well.
It was my company’s account.
My fashion business—the one I had built from nothing, the one that had supported our family for years.
I grabbed the invoice and held it up.
“What is this?”
I demanded.
Dunstan’s eyes darted to the paper.
“It’s nothing,” he said quickly.
“It’s just a mistake.”
But I knew it wasn’t.
My company paid for his mistress’s surgery.
I felt the room spin.
All those late nights at the office, all those “business trips”—they weren’t work.
They were this.
And I had been footing the bill.
I looked at Dunstan, and for the first time in twenty-two years, I didn’t recognize the man in front of me.
He was a stranger.
And I was about to find out just how deep the betrayal went.
Chapter 2 – The Card That Proved My Husband Was a Thief
I didn’t wait for an explanation.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my wallet.
Inside was the company credit card—the one I had given Dunstan for “emergency business expenses.”
I held it up so he could see it.
“This card,” I said, my voice shaking with rage, “is linked to my company’s bank account.”
Dunstan’s face went from white to gray.
“Azalea, please—”
“You stole from me,” I said, cutting him off.
“You stole from the company I built with my own hands.”
Keely, who had been inching toward the door, stopped and turned back.
She looked at Dunstan, her expression shifting from confusion to disgust.
“You said it was your money,” she said, her voice rising.
“You told me you were a successful businessman.”
Dunstan didn’t answer her.
He just kept staring at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“I want you out of my house,” I said.
“Tonight.”
“Azalea, let’s talk about this,” he pleaded.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said.
“You’ve been lying to me for years, and you’ve been stealing from me to pay for your girlfriend’s plastic surgery.”
Keely made a strangled sound.
“I had no idea,” she said.
“He told me he was divorced.”
I looked at her.
She was young and foolish, but she wasn’t the one who had betrayed me.
“You should leave,” I said to her.
She nodded and hurried out of the clinic.
Dunstan took a step toward me, but I held up my hand.
“Don’t,” I said.
“I’ll have your things packed and left on the porch.”
Then I turned and walked out, still clutching the invoice.
The drive home was a blur.
