There was movement on Luna's end, followed by the sound of a car door shutting. "I'm coming to you right now."
"Don't rush."
"Whatever it is, wait until I get there."
Luna was still talking.
Jayden had already lost it, screaming into the phone like a man unhinged.
"Luna! Whose husband are you? Who the hell are you protecting?!"
Jayden's meltdown echoed through the living room. I took another long look around the apartment. The place was decorated with care. Pale blue curtains, cream-colored sofa, an entire wall of display shelves filled with collectible figurines. Even the fridge had a little lucky charm and festive stickers on it.
The pink cartoon slippers by the shoe rack were clearly a matching set with the ones on Jayden's feet.
Even the white walls were covered with photos of Jayden. Tucked between them, here and there, were shots of Luna taken from behind.
It was obvious.
Whoever had decorated this apartment had poured their heart into it.
The apartment itself. Paid in full. Under Jayden's name.
Jayden's watch. Tens of thousands of dollars.
That was supposed to be my anniversary gift. And then there was the silk pajamas Jayden was wearing, and Jayden's pale, smooth hands, and the tea set sitting on the coffee table, and the brand of tea beside it. None of it was cheap.
Every single thing.
Reeked of money.
I looked down at my own hands. Turned my palms over. Calluses, thick and rough, built up over years of hard work. And my clothes, head to toe, everything on my body didn't add up to a thousand dollars.
It hit me all at once how absurd it was. So absurd that a laugh actually escaped my throat.
"Luna."
I cut through her voice.
"Since you're already married," I took one last look at the marriage certificate in Jayden's arms, "there's nothing left for us to talk about."
I didn't wait for Luna.
I didn't need to hear her explanation.
All I knew was this:
Fifteen years of everything I'd given had become a joke.
And Luna had made me the biggest fool in it.
I sat in my friend's law office and placed the photo of the marriage certificate on the desk. I laid out everything I'd learned, detail by detail.
Then I asked him one thing.
"In a situation like this."
"What are my odds?" My voice was steady, like I was making small talk. "Luna and I built the company from nothing. Our shares are equal. Assets split fifty-fifty. Everything's transparent. But Jayden is the exception."
I tapped the desk, thinking of the three-hundred-thousand-dollar bracelet and the million-dollar apartment.
"I don't intend to let anyone walk away with a free ride."
"Nobody gets to feast on my flesh and blood and call it a gift. That's not how this works."
I looked my friend dead in the eye.
"I want them to pay."
"But," my friend said, visibly furious on my behalf, though his professional instincts kicked in, "your company is at a critical stage of the IPO right now. If a scandal breaks—"
"I don't care."
"Then that's all I need to hear!"
He slapped his chest.
"I'll see this through to the end with you."
Coming out of the bank, I sat in my car, staring at dozens of pages of transaction records. The amounts Luna had transferred to Jayden ranged from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Every single entry had the same note attached: Voluntary gift.
My chest felt like it was caving in. A suffocating pressure closed around my throat, and my eyes burned hot.
I thought about how I'd envied other people who took care of their appearance. How I'd done what other guys did, booked a salon appointment, got my hair styled, and came home to parade around in front of Luna, hoping she'd notice. Hoping she'd compliment me for finally putting some effort into how I looked.
Instead.
Luna just met my eager face with cold indifference.
"Honey."
"I know things have been getting a little better for us," she grabbed my hand and shook her head in disapproval, "but the most dangerous thing a person can do is forget where they came from."
