Chapter 3The Husband Who Was The Mistress

“An accident?”

I stared into Dexter’s eyes, searching for a shred of the friend I thought I knew.

“Fucking my girlfriend at my parents’ funeral was an accident? Sleeping with my wife for three years was an accident? Monica said you were together all night—she was still on top of you while she was supposed to be changing for our wedding toast! Are you two really that desperate? That pathetic?”

My words stung. Dexter’s face darkened.

“Logan, we’ve been friends since we were kids. Don't make this uglier than it has to be.”

Monica let out a sharp, cold laugh. “Logan, watch your mouth. Don't talk about 'affairs.' To be honest—”

“Monica, don’t,” Dexter snapped, cutting her off.

I looked at her, at the way she looked at him, and I felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up. “Did I say something wrong? You two are the ones doing the dirty work, yet you want to keep your hands clean? I didn't realize how truly disgusting you both were.”

Monica snapped. She screamed at the top of her lungs, “Disgusting? You want to talk about disgusting? Dexter and I might be a lot of things, but we aren't so pathetic that we watched our own mother get ruined until she jumped off a building. You want to talk about ‘dirty’? Look in a mirror, Logan!”

The world stopped. Dexter’s face went pale. He immediately grabbed her, covering her mouth.

“Monica, shut up!”

She realized what she’d said. She looked at me, at the way the light had completely vanished from my eyes, and a flicker of remorse crossed her face. She opened her mouth to apologize, but I didn't give her the chance.

I grabbed a heavy gift basket from the table—something Dexter had brought—and hurled it at them with every bit of strength I had.

“GET OUT!”

“Monica, watch out!” Dexter lunged in front of her. The wicker and glass shattered against him, slicing into his arms.

“Dexter!” Monica screamed. Seeing the blood blooming through his shirt, her guilt vanished, replaced by a white-hot fury. She marched over and slapped me, hard.

“You're out of your mind! You know Dexter has a coagulation disorder! Are you trying to kill him?”

Dexter held her back, playing the martyr. “Mo, it’s fine. I deserve it. He’s sick, don't let him get to you.”

His "noble" act made me look like the villain. It worked. Monica’s rage doubled.

“Sick? He’s plenty strong when he’s attacking people! Why is it that everyone else gets better, but you just stay 'sick'? You’re faking it, Logan. You just love the attention!”

I stood there, paralyzed. Ever since I proposed to Monica, I thought I was cured. I thought I had finally found the light. I didn't realize that to her, my survival was just a long, boring performance.

“Ms. Thorne, Mr. Brooks is losing too much blood. He needs an immediate transfusion,” a doctor said, rushing in after hearing the commotion. “But he’s O-negative, and the hospital bank is low.”

Monica didn't hesitate. She grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door.

“He’s the same blood type. Take it from him.”

I tried to fight, but the Thorne family bodyguards were already there. They pinned me down and dragged me into a procedure room.

A sedative hit my veins. My resistance died.

Monica forgot one thing. Dexter had a clotting issue, yes. But after years of illness and malnutrition, I was severely anemic.

By the time they were done, I was hovering on the edge of a blackout, unable to even lift my head. Monica never came back to my room.

Instead, Dexter sent a flurry of "apology" texts in the middle of the night. I didn't read them. I blocked his number.

At dawn, I checked myself out. I limped to the city hall, the marriage certificate clutched in my hand. I couldn't bear to be tied to her for another second.

But when I handed the papers to the clerk, she looked at them, then at me, with a strange, pitying expression.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hunter. This certificate is a forgery.”

I stared at her. “That’s impossible. We signed it three months ago. Monica Thorne. Look again.”

The clerk sighed and pulled up the records on her screen. “Ms. Thorne is indeed married, sir. But her husband’s name isn't Logan Hunter. It’s Dexter Brooks.”