Delaney James was wearing Chanel the night her husband told her he didn't love her anymore.
In an instant, her picture-perfect Manhattan life-complete with a brownstone on the Upper East Side, a blossoming career as a fashion journalist, and a devas...
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"He did what?" Nico shouts.
I flinch as his voice echoes down the hallway of his apartment.
Before I left, I didn't even think of packing a bag or grabbing anything. I just walked away. Somewhere between the front steps and the time I got to Nico's building, I texted him that I was coming over. I didn't trust myself to stay home. Not after what I walked into. Not after the conversation that followed.
Leaving Will behind felt surreal. Like I was watching someone else do it.
The man I love.
The man I married.
The man I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with.
Right now, I'm not sure who he is.
At first, I was just angry – white-hot, shaking with it. Angry that he betrayed me. Angry that he brought her into our home. Into our bed. But the adrenaline is wearing off now, and something heavier is settling in its place.
The images won't leave my head. His hands on her body. His mouth on her skin. Him inside of her – thrusting and moaning and breathing her name. The two of them together like I never existed.
It makes my stomach twist.
And the worst part isn't even the sex. It's that this wasn't a one-time mistake. It's been months. Months of lies. Months of secrets. Months of him coming home to me like nothing was wrong.
Sure, we're still adapting to married life, but without trust, what do we even have?
I drag a hand through my hair and look up at him. "Can I stay here for a few days?"
Nico's expression softens immediately.
"Babe," he says, pushing the door open wider, "you know you don't need to ask." He steps aside and gestures dramatically into the apartment. "Get in here before the neighbors start enjoying the show."
"Thanks," I mumble as I step inside, closing the door behind me.
His eyes immediately sweep over me – my empty hands, the lack of luggage, the fact that I clearly walked here with nothing but the clothes on my back and heels I wandered far too long in for how expensive they were.
"Where's your purse?" he asks, frowning.
I blink up at him.
"And your bag?" he continues, glancing over my shoulder like it might magically appear behind me. "Delaney, please tell me you didn't show up here with absolutely nothing."
I stare at him for a second before letting out a hollow breath. "Nic, I was barely able to bring myself."
His expression collapses. "Oh, honey."
Before I can say anything else, he pulls me into his arms. His long limbs wrap around me, folding me against his chest like he's trying to hold me together. I let myself crumble just a little, clutching the back of his T-shirt in my fists while I breathe in the familiar scent of pine and laundry detergent. My shoulders sag as a shaky sigh slips out of me.
