Chapter 2

SIENNA POV

I waited for Harry to laugh. He was joking — he had to be. I didn't get estranged from my parents and give up my promising career to be his housewife only for him to come home on a random Tuesday morning and ask for a divorce.

But his face stayed serious.

"Why?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean why? You might not be a lot but you're a Harvard cúm laude engineering graduate. Surely, you can tell when something isn't working. And this marriage? It hasn't been for a while now."

My voice quavered. "I thought… you said it was work. You said you were losing contracts. I thought that was what the distance was about. And that once things got better for the company, we would be back to normal. And I was waiting—"

"Waiting?" he interrupted with a snarky laugh. "No, Sienna. It looks like you went and got yourself busy as well."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're cheating on me."

I laughed bitterly. "If you want to end our marriage, at least don't be a coward about it. Own your decision and don't accuse me falsely."

"I knew you would lie," he said, reaching into his briefcase and retrieving a set of papers. "Well, Miss Sienna Monroe, how do you explain this?"

I was still recovering from the shock of being addressed with my maiden name by my own husband when the papers came flying down. He didn't even have the decency to hand them to me.

"What are these?" I asked as I bent to pick one. Harry didn't answer — he didn't need to. The answer was staring at me in the form of a picture.

A sinfully erotic picture of a man and a woman in a bedroom. He sat on a chair while she straddled his laps. The man's identity was conveniently hidden as he had his back to the camera. I could only see his long dark hair. But the woman's face was clearly visible. And even though it was a static picture, anyone with eyes would tell that at that moment, she was letting out a loud moan.

It was the face of a woman at the apex of sexual pleasure and I would recognize that face anywhere because it was mine.

I blinked once. Twice. Then many more times as I looked at the other pictures which showed the same man and woman in different sèx positions.

When I managed to find my voice, I asked, "What is the meaning of this, Harry?"

That was it. It was like throwing a lit match into a pile of hay that had been soaked in gasoline. Harry turned beet red.

"You dare ask me what that is?! You whorè! I work my ass off everyday to give you the life I thought you deserve. And this is what you do when I'm away?" he barked.

"Harry, that is not me…" I started.

"Say what now?" he asked in obvious disgust.

"I know what it looks like but…"

"Oh, Sienna." He sounded like his restraint was killing him. "Please, don't insult my intelligence like this."

"Where did you even get these?" I queried, still looking at the pictures in disbelief.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course, it does!"

"If you must know, someone who is tired of keeping your secret sent them to my mail."

"I don't know what else to say, Harry. You were my first and I've never cheated on you. Ever!".

"I can't do this with you right now." He rubbed his temple. "My secretary would have the divorce papers delivered to you. Please, sign them so we can both move on with our lives."

With that, he was gone. While I stood there confused, hurt, and still fuckíng séx starved.

~ TWO WEEKS LATER ~

"You should have called me immediately," Margo consoled me, her hands rubbing up and down my back as I ruined her silk shirt with tears and catarrh. Beside us on the sofa, a newly opened pack of tissue laid already half empty. I was a wreck.

"You were away for work. I didn't want to be a bother," I muttered.

"Nonsense. I would have taken the next available flight back to Boston. What are best friends for?"

"Oh Margo…" I was going to say more, thank her for being here but I couldn't get any more words out. My head ached and my eyes were swollen from crying.

Harry had indeed sent me divorce papers. And he was taking everything. The house, the cars, the insurance, everything.

"I always knew he was up to no good," Margo said with a sigh. "You never listened to my advice."

From the beginning, Margo never liked Harry and every conversation I had with her about him ended in, "I wonder what you see in him."

But I knew what I saw. A hardworking young man who didn't come from a lot but was determined to make a lot come from him. Harry's drive was ruthless and I bought into his vision, investing nearly my entire trust fund into his startup five years ago.

I didn't regret it. Joseman Constructions had grown in leaps and bounds and even gotten several national recognitions. The only reason Harry was in a financial mess now was because he made a bad investment — one I had warned him against.

"You insist it isn't you in those pictures?" Margo asked.

I swallowed hard. I couldn't blame even my best friend for doubting me. The woman in the pictures had my whole face; grey eyes, brown hair, freckles, widow's peak and all. We had also decided they weren't edited or fake pictures.

Which meant either I was lying or there was someone out there who, for some reason, looked exactly like me. I would admit that the first one seemed more likely.

"It's not me, Margo. I wouldn't lie to you. I've never been with another man besides Harry."