Crashing the Mistress's Engagement

A year ago, during the yacht shipwreck, Carter let go of his mistress Valerie's hand in the crushing waves, risking his own life to shove me onto the lifeboat.

Later, weeping by my hospital bed, he swore that staring death in the face had finally made him realize who the only indispensable woman in his life truly was.

I believed him. I wiped the slate clean of his infidelity, utterly convinced that a marriage forged in life and death would be indestructible.

Until tonight. The night of our third wedding anniversary.

Staring at the new notification lighting up his screen—【I'm in the suite downstairs waiting for you. Come fuck me like you did last night, or I'm jumping off the balcony. —V】—the truth finally hit me.

The so-called true love proven at death's door couldn't even survive the cheap lust of ordinary days.

My entire marriage was nothing but a grotesque joke.

......

Carter raised his wine glass, his eyes brimming with devotion. "Nora, thank you for everything these past three years. Especially after what happened a year ago... Thank you for giving me the chance to prove how much I love you."

Had he not stepped away to the restroom just moments prior, and had he not carelessly left his phone face-up on the table, I might have actually bought into the act.

While he was gone, an unread message from "V" had glared at me from the screen.

【Desmond is going to propose to me. Carter, one last time. I'm in the suite downstairs. If you don't come, I'm jumping off the balcony.】

V. Valerie.

The woman Carter had abandoned during the shipwreck a year ago, only to be fished out by the rescue team later. The mistress I thought was completely excised from our lives.

Carter had clearly noticed the notification lighting up. His smile stiffened for a fraction of a second before he smoothly flipped the phone face-down on the tablecloth.

"Just work. Ignore it," he said idly, slicing a piece of steak and placing it on my plate. "Try this. Cooked to absolute perfection."

I sat there, staring blankly at him.

Looking at the husband who had hoisted me up in those freezing waters. Looking at the partner who had made tearful vows at my bedside. An uncontrollable wave of nausea surged up my throat.

"Was it work, or was it Valerie?" My voice was unnervingly calm—so calm it surprised even me.

Carter's hand froze abruptly. The silver knife screeched against the porcelain plate. He lifted his eyes, a flicker of panic crossing them before he seamlessly slipped on his signature mask of innocent exasperation.

"Nora, what are you talking about? Didn't we agree to never say her name again?" He leaned in to grab my hand, but I pulled away sharply.

"Not saying her name doesn't mean she doesn't exist," I said, crossing my arms and leaning back into my chair. "She's in the suite downstairs right now, isn't she?"

The blood drained from Carter's face. He knew I had read it all.

"Nora, listen to me. It is absolutely not what you think."

He dropped his voice, leaning closer across the table to regain control. "I haven't so much as touched her since the shipwreck. But she struggles with severe depression. You saw the text—she's threatening to kill herself! If I don't show up, she'll do something crazy!"

"And?" I scoffed coldly. "You're heading downstairs to play the savior?"

"I'm just going to end things once and for all! Just to calm her down!" He somehow managed to sound more wronged than I was. "Nora, you're a kindhearted woman. Can you really bear to watch someone die because of me? Desmond is a good man. If Valerie marries him, we're all entirely off the hook. I just need to help stabilize her emotions so she says yes to his proposal!"

What a beautifully self-righteous excuse. Packaging his adultery and lingering entanglement into some noble, life-saving mission.

"Carter." I looked him dead in the eye. "Do you honestly believe that because you saved my life, I owe you eternal gratitude? That I'm supposed to turn a blind eye while you leave our anniversary dinner to console your mistress?"

"I never thought that!" Carter shot back defensively. "I only need ten minutes! Ten minutes, and I'll be right back here to cut the cake with you!"

The words hadn't even left his mouth before he was out of his seat, eagerly snatching his blazer off the chair. His body language gave him away completely—every fiber of his being was desperate to sprint down to her.

"If you walk out of this restaurant tonight, we're done." My voice was quiet, but laced with absolute finality.

Carter froze. He turned back to look at me in sheer disbelief. "Nora, are you seriously going to be this heartless? Why do you always have to be so incredibly unreasonable?"

"Heartless?" I let out a low, cold laugh.

The yacht trip a year ago had been meant to celebrate our second anniversary. I never could have imagined it would turn into the most humiliating, hysterical day of my entire life.

That afternoon, I had grabbed two flutes of champagne and gone down to the lower cabin to find him.

The door had been ajar. Through the narrow gap, I was forced to witness an utterly vile scene: my husband, pinning Valerie down on the sofa, fucking her frantically amidst a scatter of their discarded clothes.

In that fraction of a second, whatever shred of sanity I had left comprehensively snapped.

I shrieked in absolute, heartbroken devastation, hurling the most venomous curses I could conjure at the two of them. I snatched heavy decor off the tables, violently smashing them at their horrified, panicked faces.

Every ounce of my upbringing and dignity was pulverized into dust that day.

But later, a freak, violent storm swept the sea, and the yacht capsized.

Carter abandoned Valerie and exhausted every ounce of his strength to shove me onto the final lifeboat.

Afterwards, clutching my hand in the hospital ward with tears streaming down his face, he swore that I was the one woman he could never leave behind.

And I had forgiven him.

The serene violin played on, and the patrons at the next table laughed heartily together, entirely oblivious to the brutal severing taking place right next to them.

Carter glared at me, his eyes boiling with conflict, anger, and the vicious frustration of a man whose lies had been cleanly gutted.

"You are insane. I'm taking that as a threat born out of anger. We'll talk about this when I get back," he gritted through clenched teeth. Then he turned his back and sprinted directly for the elevator.

Staring at his retreating figure, I picked up the wine he had just poured for me and downed it in one fluid motion.

The chilled liquor burned like a fierce fire in my stomach, yet my mind was sharper than it had ever been.

That shipwreck didn't drown me. But the moment he turned his back tonight, the Nora who loved him deeply was finally, utterly dead.