Fake Husband, Real Affair

Chapter 5

I clenched my teeth, trying to pull his hand away, pain radiating through my scalp. Just then, Mischa stepped out of the bedroom.

She raised an eyebrow, then let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, so she found out? Damn, I wasn't done playing yet."

She sauntered over to Sean, draping herself around him like a snake. Tugging at his arm, she pouted, "Babe, kick her out. We didn't finish last night. Let's get back to it."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," Sean said with a smirk, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Then, with one last yank on my hair, he shoved me out the door.

With nowhere else to go, I dragged myself back to my childhood home. My mom had a heart condition, I couldn't bring myself to tell her that everything she owned had been stolen by Mischa. Every time she asked if Sean and I had fought, I just stayed silent.

A few days later, they showed up, uninvited, to celebrate my mom's birthday. I went grocery shopping, trying to hold it together, when I got a call from the hospital.

Your mother's collapsed. She can't get up.

Panic hit me like a truck. My vision blurred. I don't even remember how I got to the hospital. That night, I signed more emergency forms than I could count. For hours, I stayed kneeling in the hallway, staring at the red light above the ER doors, begging any god who'd listen not to take my mother away.

She was all I had.

But the heart attack was too severe. Despite everything they tried, she didn't make it.

Legally, Mischa inherited our family home, the one my mom and I had lived in for twenty-five years. I couldn't bring myself to step foot in it again. Without my mom, even the warmest home felt like a coffin.

I took her ashes and moved into a small, rented apartment. It wasn't much, but it was quiet. After finishing my late shift at a bubble tea shop one night, I came home, drained.

Just knowing my mom's ashes were nearby gave me a strange sense of comfort.

But as I reached into my purse for the keys, I paused, something was off. The lock had been scratched, slightly twisted. My heart sank.

Gripping a thick wooden stick I'd brought for safety, I slowly pushed the door open. The living room lights were on. Nothing looked stolen, but the air felt wrong.

I looked toward the shelf where I kept my mom's urn.

Gone.

My chest tightened. Then, I heard it, moaning, from the bedroom.

I crept closer. The sounds grew louder, more disgusting by the second. I shoved the door open,

And there they were. Mischa and Sean, tangled in my bedsheets.

They scrambled upright in panic, knocking over the urn on the nightstand. Ashes, my mother's ashes, spilled across the floor.

Mischa, still buttoning up her shirt, smirked. "Oops. We just came to check in on you. One thing led to another... but hey, don't blame me for the mess. It was an accident."

I stood frozen, shaking. I'd tried so hard to stay away from them, to move on. So why were they still here? Still destroying everything I had left?

Sean, now fully dressed, looked around and muttered, "This wasn't as fun as I thought it'd be." Then he turned and walked out like none of it mattered.

"Sean!" I called out.

I wiped the tears from my face and walked after him, forcing myself to stay steady. When I caught up, I pulled the ring off my finger and threw it at his chest.

"This ring belonged to your mother," I said, voice trembling with fury. "She gave it to me on her deathbed. She told me it was a token of your father's love, said it symbolized a lifetime of happiness. She wanted our marriage to be just as full of love."

The ring clattered to the ground between us.

"But I guess love doesn't mean much to you anymore."