BETRAYED BY MY HUSBAND NOW HIS TWIN WANTS ME

Vivian’s POV “You f*****g bastard, you’re such a lost dog!” I never thought words like this would come out of my mouth. How could he do this to me? It’s not enough that he cheated, but with my supposed best friend? This hurts more than anything in this world. Frank and I have been married for over 8 years. We were so in love, so inseparable. Then, suddenly, he changed. I don’t even know what the problem is. I’ve asked him countless times, and if it’s me, I promised to apologize and change. But he wouldn’t even listen. I started noticing texts, frequent calls at ungodly hours. When I asked, I was met with cold responses. “My husband is cheating on me,” I told Mary when she came over one day. Stupid me, I should’ve known it was her all along. The signs were right there, but I turned a blind eye. I trusted Mary so much. I welcomed her into my life, into my home. I treated her like a sister because she gave me reasons to. I met her when my parents moved to Brooklyn, and I had to transfer schools. When I entered Long Island University, I didn’t know anyone. Mary was the first person who actually welcomed me, stopped the bullies from attacking me, and made me feel comfortable. We’d been through so much together, and I let her in. We were preparing for our project defense at school, and the day finally came. The school had invited top influential people as external supervisors. We were assigned numbers: Mary was number 13, and I was number 12. Though I’d prepared so much for this project, I was still nervous. “Number 12, Miss Vivian Racheal,” a voice called. I quickly adjusted my skirt and tucked in my shirt before walking into the defense room. There were six people seated, and there he was, Frank Andrew Blacksmith. A financial Analyst and a forex Trader, he owns the most popular financial institutes in America. I couldn’t help but wonder what someone of his status was doing in my school. He was wearing an olive green suit, his hair perfectly styled and slicked back. He had a sharp jawline and broad shoulders. He looked like someone who spent hours in the gym. After I finished defending my project, the questions started. “Can you explain the methodology you used in your data analytics project and why you chose that approach?” The way he spoke, with his soft lips and charming eyes. His eyes looked as if he was wearing lenses, and I couldn't help but imagine those lips on mine. God, he was so cute. “Hello, miss,” Frank called, snapping me out of my thoughts. I quickly cleared my throat and answered. “For my project, I started by collecting a dataset on customer behavior, including variables like purchase frequency, spending amount, and demographics. I chose regression analysis because it helped identify patterns and relationships within the data. I also used Python and Tableau for data cleaning, analysis, and visualization to make sure the insights were clear and actionable.” He smiled softly at me, and I felt butterflies in my stomach. Was he really this cute? When it was over, I left the room. Mary was waiting by the door. She asked me if the external supervisors were friendly or strict, but before I could answer, she was called inside. After the project defense, I sat at the campus courtyard, waiting for Mary. She had left earlier. “I’m impressed with your defense today,” a voice behind me said. I turned around, and there he was, Frank. For a moment, I felt like my heart was about to burst. I couldn’t believe Mr. Frank was actually talking to me. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it,” I replied with a soft smile. “Call me Frank. Can I have your number? I’ll keep in touch with you,” he asked softly. Who would say no to that? It felt like a privilege, and I didn’t hesitate to give him my number. When Mary returned, I couldn’t help but spill the tea. I told her Frank had asked for my number, and I was overjoyed. It felt like I’d won the lottery. Two months later, I was standing at the altar, taking my vows with Frank. Our parents were there, and Mary was my maid of honor. She was so happy for me. Or so I thought. And now, here I am, standing in front of the man I once respected, with my best friend in the same hotel room where we spent our honeymoon. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and Mary’s wrapped in a white towel. It was obvious they had just finished having s*x or about to start. Earlier this afternoon, I received a private message telling me to go to a hotel. The message said Frank was with someone. I know it was stupid to trust a strange number, but Frank had shown me countless times that he was cheating. This time, I was determined to find out who he was with and why. When I arrived at the hotel, I pretended to be a guest to get the room number. I knocked on the door, pretending to be room service. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d lower myself like this, but this is what Frank had reduced me to, someone desperate for answers. They both just stared at me. I was hoping they’d say something, maybe even lie, but they just looked like zombies. “How could you do this to me, Frank?” I whispered, my eyes already red. “What are you doing here?” he asked coldly. “Are you serious right now?” I snapped. “Is this really the question you’re asking me? What am I doing here?” “Vivian, it’s not…..” “Shut your dirty mouth, slut,” I interrupted, my anger flaring. “Of all the men in the world, you choose Frank? I don’t want to hear any of the trash you want to say. You disgust me.” I turned to Frank. The look on his face was one of regret, regret for getting caught, not for what he did. Without thinking, I took off my wedding ring and threw it at him. I couldn’t believe I was about to say these words, but I did. “I want a divorce.”