Chapter 2

I put my phone down and looked toward the bathroom.

Marcus was taking a shower. His phone was sitting right there on the nightstand.

The lock screen was a picture of us in Bali last year.

I picked it up and unlocked it. Nothing.

His contacts list was clean. His Snapchat was clean. His gallery was clean.

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

There are so many look-alikes in this world.

Maybe I was just seeing things.

Just as I was about to put the phone back, the screen lit up.

A message popped up from a contact saved as "Dr. Carter." It was a photo.

I froze. When did he even get to know a doctor?

My finger moved on instinct, tapping open the photo.

In the picture, my boyfriend was passionately kissing a strange woman.

A woman I had never seen before in my life.

"Dr. Carter" wasn't a doctor at all.

He had purposely changed her name to that because he knew even if I saw it, I wouldn't suspect a thing.

The sound of running water stopped. I quickly put the phone back exactly where it was.

Marcus stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. Seeing me sitting up, his eyes filled with concern.

"Chloe, honey, why aren't you asleep yet? It’s so late."

He walked over and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead.

"Are you on your period? Cramps? Let me get you some Midol and hot tea."

The moment he turned and walked into the kitchen, I grabbed his phone again.

I opened the chat with Dr. Carter. The sweet, flirty messages between him and that woman were endless.

“Did you miss me today?”

“Always. Every second.”

“I’m taking off next week. Can you make it?”

“Of course. Just tell me where.”

Photo after photo popped up. Restaurants, movie theaters, hotel hallways...

There were even a few pictures of him sleeping, the warm, dim lighting illuminating a bedroom I had never seen before.

I didn't have the courage to scroll any further.

I heard the water pouring in the kitchen, and then the light clicked off. Marcus walked back in, holding a steaming mug.

"Here, drink it while it's hot."

I took the mug. Watching the steam slowly rise and disappear into the air, I suddenly felt like the man standing in front of me was a complete stranger.

I thought seven years was enough to truly know someone.

But just five minutes ago, I realized he could play a double life so perfectly that not a single seam showed.

Marcus sat down beside me. Just like he did every month during this time, he gently placed his hand on my lower stomach.

"Let me rub it for you. It'll feel better soon."

I instinctively shrank back a little.

"I'm just really tired. I want to sleep."

He paused for a second but didn't say anything. He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders.

"Okay, get some rest. Let me know if it hurts too much."

Marcus lay down beside me. In the darkness, his hand crept back over, resting on my waist, gently massaging me.

I closed my eyes, staying completely still.

Seven years. For seven years, every time I had cramps, he would hold me like this.

Sometimes he would massage me until I fell asleep, and other times he wouldn't sleep at all, just staying awake to watch over me.

Over these seven years, Marcus had given me a sense of security that I completely relied on.

His hands were warm. He massaged me gently for about half an hour before finally stopping.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

The streetlights peeked through the curtains, casting a clear silhouette of his face.

Looking at him, I actually found myself wondering if he had a secret twin brother.

Was it possible that the man on that phone wasn't him?

But I knew better. He was an only child.

His mother had a difficult labor with him and could never conceive again.

He had told me this more than once, with a hint of sadness in his voice, saying how lonely it was to grow up without siblings.

The man sending those texts was him.

The man sleeping right next to me, who had just spent thirty minutes massaging my stomach, was the exact same person.

And in a place I knew nothing about, he called another woman his wife.