My Wife’s Best Friend Took Everything from Me

My wife’s male best friend lost a finger-guessing game and was pressured into revealing the most intimate thing he’d done with the opposite sex.

He glanced at me and smirked.

“I got handsy with Cassie.”

The room froze. A beat later, gasps and laughter erupted as everyone caught his meaning.

I stared at my wife’s five-month belly. My vision went black.

Tristan Cole seemed to realize only then, but he just shrugged casually.

“Oh, when Cassie first got pregnant, you refused to touch her. She was miserable. I just did her a favor. Better me than her sneaking around, right?”

——

Before I could react, Cassandra tossed a piece of abalone into his bowl.

“Shut up. You’re fast with your fingers, but you’ll never compare to my husband.”

Tristan grinned, took a bite, and drawled,

“Juicy. Delicious.”

They laughed together, while I sat invisible. No one looked at me. No one thought the husband deserved a voice.

The game continued. This time, Cassandra lost. The card read: French kiss with the opposite sex for three minutes.

Only Tristan and I were there. Yet everyone, without hesitation, pushed her toward him.

“It’s just a game! Anyone who takes it seriously is an idiot!”

She laughed, he made noises, and their friends cheered, phones flashing.

That was it. My glass shattered against the floor. The room fell silent.

I stood, my voice low and sharp.

“Want something more exciting? I’ll give you excitement.”

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

“Hello, officer? There’s a mob here…”

Cassandra lunged, trying to snatch the phone.

“Gareth, are you insane? It’s just a game!”

Her friend’s hand was still resting on her pregnant belly. My chest felt like it was being ripped apart. I laughed bitterly.

“Tell me, Cassandra—how will you explain this to our child? That his mother couldn’t control herself, begged her male best friend for comfort, and his father was just a blind fool?”

Her expression hardened. She shoved Tristan behind her.

“You’ve gone too far! I told you—it was a game!”

A game? If that’s a game, I want no part of it.

I turned to leave. She grabbed my wrist.

“My friends threw this party to celebrate my pregnancy. As the father, why do you have to ruin it?”

My friends. My friends. Always her friends.

“Slap!”

My palm cracked against her cheek. The room went still.

Tristan rushed forward, dragging her into his arms.

“Listen to Daddy, stop being so stubborn.” He smiled like a helpless parent.

“Gareth, Cassie and I grew up together, even slept naked in the same bed. She’s never seen me as a man. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Then he shoved her back toward me as if he was magnanimous.

“Come on, just apologize to Gareth. You’re pregnant. Even if he doesn’t care, your friends do.”

One line, and suddenly every pair of eyes was filled with contempt—toward me.

Cassandra stiffened, lips trembling, but finally muttered,

“…It’s my fault, alright?”

My stomach turned. I couldn’t breathe.

Without a word, I left the room.