Chapter 1

It was a rainy night. I left work early and headed home.

The moment the key slid into the lock, I heard it – sounds from our bedroom.

Muffled moans, ragged breaths.

My hand froze mid-air.

Brooke had said she was working late tonight, wouldn't be home for dinner.

But now, there were clearly two people in our bedroom.

I pushed the door open quietly. The living room was a mess.

A pair of women's heels tossed carelessly by the entrance, a man's dress shoes slumped beside the sofa.

On the coffee table, two red wine glasses with dark, crimson residue.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the sounds grew clearer.

"Brooke, you're so wet… He can't satisfy you at all."

That voice. I knew it all too well.

Ryan, my best friend since childhood, my colleague, the man I trusted most.

"Don't talk about him. Let's just enjoy ourselves…"

Brooke's voice was so alluring, so *foreign* to me. I'd never once heard her speak to me in that tone.

In our three years of marriage, she'd always been distant, cold, as if simply going through the motions.

But now, in another man's arms, her voice was sweet as honey.

I pushed the bedroom door wide open.

The two people on the bed instantly froze.

Brooke shrieked, scrambling to pull the duvet over herself.

Ryan rolled over, his face a roadmap of guilt and embarrassment.

"Alex, let me explain…"

"Explain what?"

My voice was eerily calm, even to my own ears. By all rights, I should've been roaring, raging, maybe even grabbing a knife.

But I just stood there, staring coldly at them.

"Alex, we…"

"We didn't do anything!"

Brooke cut Ryan off, her voice sharp enough to scrape paint.

I laughed.

I laughed until my eyes stung with unshed tears.

"Didn't do anything? So you two were naked in my bed, discussing work?"

Brooke's face instantly flushed crimson.

Ryan scrambled out of bed, fumbling into his clothes.

"Alex, man, this whole thing…"

"Man?"

I repeated the word, each syllable chilling the air.

"Ryan, we've known each other for twenty years. Do you really think I'll ever call you 'man' again?"

He froze, the shirt in his hand dropping to the floor.

I turned to Brooke.

The woman I'd loved for five years, married for three.

She huddled in the duvet, her eyes darting away, unable to meet mine.

"Brooke, I'm asking you, how many times has this happened?"

"How many times? I told you, we didn't do anything!"

She was still trying to deny it.

I walked to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer.

Inside was a box of condoms, clearly well-used.

I picked up the box and shook it at her.

"Are these 'work supplies' too?"

Brooke's face went completely white.

Ryan was dressed and trying to sneak away.

"Stop!"

I called out to him.

"Ryan, you think you can just *walk away*?"

"Alex, we…"

"We're nothing to each other anymore."

I looked at the man who'd been my brother since childhood.

We went to school together, got into fights, got punished by teachers.

We were roommates in college. After graduation, I recommended him for a job at our company.

I treated him like my own brother, and he was sleeping with my wife in my bed.

"You two carry on. I'm leaving."

I turned and walked out.

"Alex!"

Brooke jumped out of bed, naked, and ran after me, grabbing my arm.

I shook her hand off.

"Don't touch me. You're tainted."

The words slapped her across the face.

She froze there, her eyes instantly welling up.

"Alex Greene, what right do you have to say that to me?"

"What else do you even *do* besides work? All you care about is making money!"

"When did you ever care about me? When did you ever spend time with me?"

"Ryan at least knows how to make me happy, he buys me presents, he takes me to the movies!"

"And you? What else can you offer me besides money?"

I stopped and turned back to her.

This woman standing before me, accusing me.

The woman I poured my entire salary into every month, bought designer bags for, funded her entire lifestyle.

The woman I thought was my wife.

"Brooke, you're right."

"I really can't give you anything but money."

"But starting today, I won't even be giving you that anymore."

I walked out of the house without looking back.

The rain was still falling, icy cold on my face.

I stood by the apartment complex entrance, unsure where to go.

This place I'd called home for three years suddenly felt alien.

That place I thought was my home, turned out to be only *my* home.

My phone rang. It was Ryan.

I ignored it.

It rang again. Still him.

I turned it off.

Rainwater dripped down my hair into my eyes, salty, like tears.

But I didn't cry.

I just felt tired. So incredibly tired.

Tired enough to lie down on the ground and never get up.

But I couldn't.

I still had things to do.

I was going to make them understand the cost of betraying me.