My husband tricked me into a divorce because his little intern was pregnant. I stared at the papers in my hand—a liver cancer diagnosis and a positive pregnancy test—and finally, I could breathe. The cancer was my husband’s. The baby was his best friend’s. To make sure I wouldn’t suspect a thing, my husband, Liam, had given me the house and all our savings. I looked at him, my heart swelling with a strange, sharp pity. "Aren't you worried I'll take this for real, Liam?" He gave me that gentle smile, the one that used to make my knees weak. "Then I guess I'll have to live with that." I just shook my head. You poor, stupid man. The ink on our divorce papers was barely dry when I married his best friend. Liam’s disbelief was a sight to behold. "Audrey? Don't you love me anymore?" I clutched my purse to my chest. "Let's not get confused," I said. "I'm not your wife. And I am definitely not your nurse." 1 My husband, Liam, was the perfect man. Thoughtful, kind, and ridiculously good to me. That didn't stop him from sleeping with Chloe, the fresh-out-of-college intern from his office. The moment I found out, my world tilted on its axis. But Liam worked in investment banking, pulling in over twenty grand a month. He was my winning lottery ticket. I couldn't just throw him away. And then there was his best friend, Leo. A trust fund kid who’d slummed it in finance for fun. He was handsome, charming, with the kind of old-money politeness that felt like a weapon. I had a thing for him. A secret, stupid little crush. Being married to Liam, it was something I kept locked away. But after I found out about the affair? The lock didn't feel so strong anymore. 2 Leo was Liam’s colleague. He was the one who always brought my husband home after a client dinner went too long or a celebration got out of hand. He was also the one who told me. He’d helped me get a dead-drunk Liam onto our bed one night. As he was leaving, he paused at the door, his expression unreadable. "You know, Audrey," he said, his voice low and laced with something I couldn't quite name. "You should really come out to these things more often. It’s hard to keep a man on a leash if you’re not holding it." After settling Liam, I rushed back to the living room. "What is that supposed to mean? Tell me." Leo looked almost pained. He pulled out his phone and, with a heavy sigh, showed me a picture. Liam, with his arm wrapped tight around a girl—Chloe. Her smile was pure poison. She was the same girl who'd been orbiting him since her university days, a classic office predator. Liam had always been so firm about us, so I’d never given her a second thought. 3 I went through Liam’s phone. His main account was clean, meticulously so. But he had a burner account, hidden deep within a folder of useless apps. It was a digital shrine to their affair. Explicit photos, secret messages. I screen-recorded everything. My first instinct was to build a magnificent PowerPoint presentation, a corporate-style takedown, and email it to his entire company. But that felt too easy. Too quick. And honestly, a man who could generate that much income was an asset I wasn't ready to liquidate. That was two months ago. I’d been dragging my feet, marinating in my anger. In that time, Leo’s attention toward me had shifted from casual concern to something much more… focused. 4 One night, he brought Liam home again, completely wasted. We managed to haul him onto the bed, and I was struggling to unbutton his shirt when I felt it. A hand, warm and firm, on the small of my back. A moment later, a solid chest was pressed against me. I froze, my voice a strangled whisper. "What are you doing?" Leo’s arms wrapped around me. "Don't you know, Audrey?" he murmured into my hair. "I've wanted you for a long time." "Let go of me," I hissed, trying to pull away. "Why are you still with him? He’s already checked out," Leo’s voice was a low thrum against my back. "I’m younger. I have more money. And I wouldn’t cheat on you. Be with me, Audrey. I’ll treat you right. Better than him." Just as I was about to refuse, he kissed me. 5 It had been three years. The number of times Liam and I had sex had dwindled to maybe once a month. Kissing was practically off the table. I used to think his high-stress job had drained him. Now I knew it was Chloe. Leo’s kiss was wet and hot and hungry, and it woke something up in me. With my husband passed out just inches away, the thrill of it was a jolt to my system. But I still found the strength to pull back and slap him. Hard. "Get. Out." He touched his cheek, a flush creeping up his neck, and left without another word. 6 That weekend, someone new moved into the apartment upstairs. It was Leo. He came by, all bright smiles and neighborly charm, to let us know. Liam, oblivious as ever, saw nothing strange about it. A few minutes later, Liam announced he had to go back to the office to "handle some things." The moment his car was out of the garage, there was a knock on my door. It was Leo. "He went to see Chloe," he said, no preamble. "How do you know?" He made a tsking sound and showed me his phone. It was a screenshot of a text from Chloe herself. "Why would she text you?" "She invited me over for a drink. I said no," he smirked. "So she had to prove she wasn't lacking for male attention." 7 I rolled my eyes and tried to shut the door, but he blocked it with his foot and slipped inside, backing me against the wall. His arms came up on either side of my head, caging me in. My heart hammered against my ribs. "He betrayed you, Audrey," he whispered, his face close to mine. "Why are you still playing the loyal wife?" "What do you want?" I said, my hands pressed against his chest. "I’ll call the cops." "Don't tell me you feel nothing. Why else have you been stealing glances at me for the past year?" I bit my lip. "How do I know this isn't some twisted game? That Liam didn't put you up to this, to catch me cheating so he could divorce me without losing a dime?" A flicker of genuine surprise crossed his handsome face, then he laughed, a low, throaty sound. "You think you're in a movie, sweetheart?" 8 And then he was on me, lifting me up and carrying me to the sofa. He pinned my wrists above my head, his body a heavy, welcome weight. "How about this," he murmured, his voice husky. "I'll give you all the leverage. When we're done, you can go to the police. Tell them I forced you. How does that sound?" He started kissing me again, and this time, my struggles were half-hearted at best. He paused, his breath hot on my neck. "You don't have any security cameras in here, do you?" I shook my head. Probably not. Still, he got up, pulled out his phone, and used some app to sweep the room for listening devices. I just watched him, my clothes in disarray, my face flushed. I wanted this. It had been so long since I’d felt wanted. I was barely thirty, but I felt like I was living in a convent. The needs were still there. 9 The scan finished. He lunged. As his hands went to the waistband of my pants, I stopped him. He seemed to think it was part of the game. "Do you have your latest health records?" I asked. The mood shattered. He froze, then let out a sharp "Fuck." He sat up, fumbled for his phone again, and pulled up a full medical report. It was a month old. I wasn't convinced. He left, promising to go to a clinic first thing in the morning. He seemed more desperate to get laid than my husband ever had. 10 All I could think about was his face, the heat of his breath, the feel of his lips on my skin. I went and changed my underwear. I was starting to understand Liam. This felt good. After three years of passionless routine, this raw excitement was a drug. That afternoon, Leo returned, dressed in a sharp suit. As I reviewed the brand-new, time-stamped medical report, he casually loosened his tie, and before I knew it, he was using it to bind my wrists together. He kissed me, his voice a low growl. "Is this better, Audrey? Feel safe now?" My protest was a weak, breathy, "No…" His eyes went dark, like he'd just been shot up with adrenaline. 11 Afterward, he held me in our marital bed. "What if Liam comes back?" I whispered, a thread of panic weaving through my post-coital haze. He glanced at his phone. "He won't. They're at a spa upstate." "Oh." I started kissing him again. I wanted more. I’d been starving for too long. 12 When Liam finally came home, he looked exhausted. "You look awful, honey," I said, all wifely concern. "Are you feeling okay?" I’d seen the texts Chloe had sent to Leo. To keep up with her, Liam had been relying on a steady diet of performance-enhancing drugs. That explained why he was useless at home, why our monthly encounters felt like a mandatory, joyless chore. His expression flickered. "Just… tired. A lot of late nights at the office." "You need to rest." I brought him a glass of water. Then I went to the laundry room and stripped the bed, tossing the evidence of my afternoon into the washing machine. You couldn’t be too careful. 13 Liam’s life fell back into its rhythm of work and client dinners. He was out drinking three, sometimes four nights a week, always coming home completely obliterated. And Leo was always the one to bring him. While I unbuttoned Liam’s shirt, Leo would be unbuttoning mine. Sometimes, I’d watch my husband’s sleeping face, my heart pounding with terror. The fear only seemed to make Leo more excited. I was developing a taste for it. Then, Liam announced he was going out of town for two weeks for a big project. This was normal. 14 The moment he was gone, I moved in with Leo. It was just an elevator ride away. During those two weeks, a strange thing happened. My rage at Liam began to cool. I had hated him for his betrayal, but now… now I understood. Marriage could be profoundly boring. And life is too short to be tied to one person. If I had a husband and a lover, my energy was divided. Liam would no longer suffocate under the weight of my undivided attention and love. It was a win-win-win situation. Liam probably felt the same way. After all, his paycheck was still direct-deposited into our joint account—an account that was solely in my name. 15 Another two months passed. Liam looked worse and worse, his skin sallow and his eyes hollow. It was like he was running himself into the ground for fun. My best friend, Maya, gave me a voucher for a full executive health screening. I figured even if we weren't sleeping together, with the way he was playing around, it was better to be safe. I made him go. Before the results were even back, my phone buzzed. It was a screenshot from Leo. A text from Chloe: [Wanna see what it’s like with a pregnant woman? Because I am.] I started chewing on my thumbnail. She was pregnant? This complicated things. 16 A money tree like Liam was hard to find. A guy like Leo was fun, but he wasn’t the type to stick around. If Chloe was pregnant, would Liam actually divorce me? Before I could even start strategizing, the hospital called. Liam's results were, in their words, "concerning." I rushed over to pick them up. Suspected liver cancer. It needed more tests for a final confirmation, but as Maya said, it was almost certainly a done deal. Given his lifestyle—the constant drinking, the smoking, the stress—it made a grim kind of sense. 17 I looked at the report and felt a wave of nausea. Maya looked at me with pity. "God, Audrey. Don't tell me he's got cancer and you're pregnant." I frowned, then drove to a pharmacy and bought a test. Positive.
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