Chapter 4Her Lookalike Lover My Secret Daughter

The first time I caught them kissing was eight months after the wedding.

It was Valerie’s birthday. We threw a massive catered party at our house.

I was running around playing the perfect host, refilling glasses and making small talk. It wasn't until the cake was being brought out that I realized Valerie was missing.

I went to check the second-floor balcony.

When I pushed the glass door open, I saw two silhouettes pressed together against the railing.

Cameron had his back arched over the balustrade, his hands clutching Valerie’s shoulders.

Valerie had her hand buried in his hair, kissing him with a desperate, consuming hunger.

The moonlight washed over their faces.

Cameron’s eyes were closed, his eyelashes trembling beautifully.

I stood in the doorway. The silver cake server I was holding slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor.

They broke apart.

Cameron saw me, and the blood instantly drained from his face. He scrambled behind Valerie like a frightened child.

Valerie spun around. For a split second, there was sheer panic in her eyes, but she ruthlessly buried it.

"Nathan," she said, taking a step toward me. "Listen to me—"

I didn't listen.

I turned around, walked down the hall, and went straight into our master bedroom. I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out our framed wedding photo.

It was a heavy, solid mahogany frame.

I lifted it above my head and smashed it onto the floor with everything I had.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces. The photograph ripped right down the middle, perfectly severing Valerie and me.

The guests downstairs heard the crash and came rushing up, crowding the doorway in shocked silence.

By the time Valerie sprinted into the room, I was already destroying the crystal figurines on her desk.

The first gift she ever gave me. The souvenirs from our honeymoon in Paris. The expensive colognes she bought me. Anything I could lift, I threw.

She lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my torso from behind, locking me in a vice grip.

"Nathan! Stop it! That's enough!"

I couldn't break free. I just stood there, chest heaving, gasping for air.

She turned me around, her eyes red and pleading.

"I cut him off," she swore, her voice trembling. "I swear to God, Nate, it's over."

I looked at her, and suddenly, I started to laugh.

Why was it that she was the one who cheated, but I was the one standing here looking completely unhinged?

That night, she sat on the floor beside my side of the bed until dawn.

I didn't let her under the covers, and she didn't try to leave.

When the sun came up, I opened my eyes to see her asleep, her head resting on the edge of the mattress, her brow furrowed, one hand still desperately gripping the corner of my blanket.

I stared at her for a long time.

Then, slowly, I reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from her face.

I thought, maybe, just maybe, she would actually change.