It turned out the one who should have been apologizing was not me.
My hand clenched around my purse until my knuckles went white. My gaze slowly swept across the young woman's guilty, helpless face before landing on the garish blue stones glinting at her earlobes. I smirked.
"Your earrings are beautiful, Ms. Yates. Did your boyfriend give them to you? They must be expensive."
Last month on Valentine's Day, I stumbled across Victor's purchase history. One pure gold bracelet and one pair of sapphire earrings.
The bracelet cost one thousand dollars, and it was on my wrist. Meanwhile, the earrings cost eight thousand dollars, and he had given them to the woman standing in front of me.
When Samantha Yates heard my words, her face drained of all color in an instant. Her lips trembled for a long time, but she could not squeeze out a single word.
Pathetic!
Without sparing her another glance, I turned and walked away.
On the way home, I called my father. He was Victor's boss and the man in charge of Lloyd Industries. "Dad, I need a favor."
I had changed my phone wallpaper from our family photo to one of just me and Tony. My voice was unnervingly calm.
"That promotion to marketing director you promised Victor? Cancel it. And find me the best divorce lawyer you can. I'm divorcing Victor.
"Yes. He's having an affair with our son's teacher."
My father moved quickly. Within half an hour, a divorce attorney sent over three gigabytes of evidence and documentation.
I went through it. Beyond the social media posts I had already seen, there was another account I had never encountered before. There were a total of 83 videos, and every single one featured Victor.
I found out that last Christmas, when Victor claimed he was working late and could not come home, he had actually flown to Samantha's side to draw little stars with her in the snow.
On our son's seventh birthday, the gift Victor gave him was something Samantha had helped him pick out—a stuffed teddy bear.
In one of the videos, Samantha tucked intimate photos of herself and Victor into the bear's belly, laughing triumphantly all the while. "A surprise for Mr. Gardner's precious son. I can't wait for the day he discovers it."
In the comments, confused strangers asked questions.
[Does your boyfriend have kids from a previous marriage?]
Samantha, posting under a kitten avatar, replied: [He does, but I'll be taking over as the child's mom soon.]
She added a row of blushing emojis.
Then, there was the most recent video, uploaded the day I left for my trip. It was taken from the storage room of our house. Samantha leaned against the door with a selfie stick, smiling sweetly at the camera.
"Mr. Gardner's kid is so naughty. I'm going to lock him in this dark room as punishment."
In the background, the seven-year-old Tony begged for mercy through terrified sobs.
My hand tightened around the mouse so hard that it hurt. I shot to my feet with a bang, my mind racing back to the night my plane landed. I had called home over a dozen times. It was not until the 17th attempt that someone finally picked up.
"Why did it take you so long to answer? Where's Tony?" I was frantic, terrified something had happened at home.
On the other end, Victor's breathing grew noticeably heavier. After a long pause, he stammered an explanation, "T-Tony had a nightmare. It took me forever to get him back to sleep. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"
At the time, I did not think twice about it. Victor brushed me off, and I let him.
Now, looking back, I realized the signs had been there all along. My chest felt like it had a gaping hole in it, and cold wind whistled through.
It was not the affair that hurt. It was the fact that I never imagined Victor would let someone else harm our child.
