Maggie's POV
My finger slipped, and I accidentally opened a trending post. It was one of those overly sweet “lovey-dovey couple” threads, with comments full of colorful envy and teasing.
I was just scrolling for fun when a top comment froze me in place.
[@Mr. Mine, Baby, you better not treat me like this in the future.]
[Of course not, Baby. Don’t you know what kind of husband you’ve got?]
I stared at the profile picture in the thread. It matched the one on my chat list, the one with our couple’s avatars.
That’s when I realized the hidden meaning behind his username.
Hers was Mrs. Mine, and his was Mr. Mine. A matching pair.
My gut clenched. Brigham Dixon was cheating.
——
My fingers trembled as I kept clicking his profile picture over and over, scrolling through our chat history. There hadn’t been a single break in our conversations.
Even when he was away on business trips, he sent me photos of local specialties.
[Wifey, you love spicy food, so I bought this chili paste just for you.]
[I hate business trips. I just want to cuddle on the couch and binge shows with you.]
[Honey, I’m not home to watch you. Don’t stay up too late, okay?]
I stared at the photos, then instinctively clicked into the other woman’s page.
[My husband even thinks of me when he’s away on a business trip. He bought me local snacks again. He’s so clingy.]
It was the same photos. He hadn’t just sent them to me, he’d sent them to her too.
As I kept scrolling, my stomach twisted. The nights he claimed he was stuck at the office was when he was out shopping with her.
[Honey, I’m working late today. The coffee I ordered for you just arrived. Make sure it’s hot. Don’t drink anything cold during your period.]
I didn’t even know whether to laugh or cry. Even when he was with her, he still remembered my period.
When he took me on vacation, he booked her a hotel room, right next to ours.
While I slept peacefully, he soaked in the hot springs with her, pouring his heart out.
So it was true. A heart could split in two, making room for different people.
Right then, her page updated again. This time, the location was set in San Francisco.
[My husband can’t stand being away from me, so I flew over to keep him company.]
I picked up my phone, numb, and dialed Brigham’s number.
He answered almost instantly.
I remembered his promise that he’d always pick up within five rings.
"Honey, I want to give you enough security."
Back then, I had cried in his arms, touched by his words. Now, my voice was dry, cautious.
“Hubby, how about I fly to San Francisco and keep you company?”
He chuckled softly. “Why all of a sudden? I’ll be back in two days. I’d feel so guilty if my sweet wife flew all this way just for me and wore herself out.”
“Really?” I flatly asked.
“Wifey, are you upset? The flowers I ordered for you should be arriving soon. Don’t be sad, okay?”
His voice was as gentle as always, soothing me. But I could hear the loud noise in the background.
Brows knitted, I asked, “Are you outside?”
“Mm, at the airport. Picking up a client.”
He said it so confidently, like he’d hidden everything perfectly, forgetting who he was supposed to be.
I gave a short laugh. “Since when does a CEO like you need to pick up clients personally?”
Suddenly, his voice faltered, which was unusual. “It’s an important client. From overseas.”
However, a woman’s chatter never stopped in the background, and he answered her distractedly between words to me.
Making a fool out of me face-to-face, my stomach churned, and I gagged, covering my mouth.
I couldn’t listen anymore, so I cut the call short.
“We’ll talk when you’re back.”
Staring at my phone, I sat frozen for a long time before finally calling my best friend.
“Got time to take a trip to San Francisco with me?”
She agreed immediately, teasing, “Wow, so you finally decided to leave your man behind and go traveling with me?”
