WIFE WHO CHEATED ON ME

CHAPTER 3 REGRET

Chapter 3 Camilla Belle

Pov camilla!!

The house is too quiet.

I expected it to feel empty. I *wanted* it to feel empty. Divorce means Daniel can move in. No more hiding. No more sneaking around. Just... freedom.

So why does my chest ache like someone punched me?

I set the wedding ring on the counter. It stares back at me. *Forever.* We picked that word together.

I stare at that ring until my vision blurs. The kitchen feels too bright, too sterile. I shouldn't feel this. I made my choice. I chose Daniel. His touch. His laughter. The way he looks at me like I'm the only person in the room.

But...

But my husband knew how I liked my coffee. Every morning. Without asking.

But my husband held my hand at my sister's wedding.

But my husband cried when I got my promotion.

But my husband... cried ten minutes ago. Because I was cheating on him. Because I was destroying everything.

And I told him to pick divorce or stay married to a cheater.

I gave him no other option.

The sound of my car engine fades completely. Then silence.

I pick up the ring. Spin it. The inscription mocks me. *Forever.*

My phone buzzes. Daniel.

*“Hey babe. Miss you. Thinking about tomorrow night ;)”*

I stare at the message. It should make me happy. It should make me smile. But my stomach twists instead.

I don't reply. I set my phone down face-up and walk to the window. The streetlight outside casts a lonely glow over the empty driveway. He's really gone. I actually watched him leave.

I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cold glass. A memory surfaces, unbidden: two years ago, him surprising me with a birthday cake at midnight. His hands shaking as he lit the candles.

The ring slips from my fingers and clatters onto the kitchen counter. I can't stop seeing his face when he whispered "okay." The way his voice broke. The quiet devastation in his eyes.

I pick up my phone again. Daniel's message still stares back.

*“Thinking about tomorrow night ;)”*

I type a reply: *"Can't tomorrow. Something came up."*

Daniel responds almost immediately.

*"What came up? I made reservations at that place you like."*

I stare at the screen. My thumbs hover. What do I even say? That my husband just packed his bags because I'm sleeping with you? That I just destroyed a three-year marriage?

*"Just busy. Maybe next week."*

Another pause. Then three dots appear. He's typing.

*"Busy with what? You're always busy lately."*

The tone shift is unmistakable. The mask is slipping.

*"I said maybe next week. Don't be a dick."*

I don't look at my phone. I don't answer. I put it face down and start cleaning. The counters. The dishes. The floors. Moving. Distracting.

I clean until my hands are raw and the house smells like lemon and bleach. It doesn't help. The silence is worse. The absence is worse.

When I finally stop, I'm standing in front of the hallway mirror. The hickeys Daniel left on my neck are fading. But I can't help but notice the small framed photo beside the mirror. Us. Our wedding day. We're both laughing. So young.

I snatch the photo off the shelf and flip it face down. Then I stand there staring at the back of the frame. Breathing shallow.

My reflection stares back at me in the mirror. Pale. Haunted. Someone I barely recognize.

What the hell did I just do?

The question hits me like a freight train and I slide down the wall, landing hard on the floor. The cold tile seeps through my jeans.

I sit there for what feels like hours. The phone buzzes repeatedly with messages from Daniel. I ignore them all. My phone finally dies mid-buzz. Silence. Blissful silence.

I crawl to the living room and pull out the couch cushions. Finding old photos. Receipts. The remote. And a small, worn teddy bear he gave me on our first anniversary.

I pick up the teddy bear. It's small and lopsided. He spent three weeks making it because I mentioned once that I missed having stuffed animals as a kid.

"For the girl who never got enough hugs," the card said.

My chest tightens. I squeeze the bear against my chest and something breaks behind my eyes. A small sob escapes before I can stop it. Then another.

I curl up on the floor with the bear, letting the tears come. The house is silent except for my ragged breathing. The wedding photos still on the walls. The throw pillows we picked out together. The faint smell of his cologne lingering in the hallway.

By morning, I'm still there. The bear clutched to my chest. Eyes swollen. The sunlight streaming through the blinds feels too harsh. Too bright. Too real.

My phone is dead on the kitchen counter. The house is unnervingly still. No coffee brewing. No footsteps upstairs. No mumbled "good morning" kiss against my temple.

I slowly push myself up off the floor. My body aches. My knees are stiff. The teddy bear stares at me with mismatched button eyes.

I walk to the window. The driveway is empty.

A few months later***

The movers left yesterday.

Half the furniture is gone. The bookshelves are empty. Photos stripped from the walls. The house echoes now when I walk through it.

The divorce papers arrived a few months ago. Uncontested. He signed everything. No fight. No bitterness in the documents. Just clean, legal termination of three years of marriage.

I haven't seen him.

Daniel has been...

...more present.

Daniel's been staying over almost every night. The house feels full again. He doesn't complain about the mess or the old furniture I refuse to replace. He laughs at my jokes. Cooks dinner. s*x is... good. Really good.

Everything I wanted.

But I can't get comfortable in this half-empty house.

Daniel makes me coffee every morning. He brings it to bed with a kiss on my forehead. He texts me "I love you" randomly during the day. He plans weekend trips.

He's everything my husband wasn't.

Tonight he's in the shower. I'm sitting on the bed scrolling through my phone when I see it. An i********: notification.

My ex. Posting a new photo.

It's him and some woman I don't recognize. Standing outside what looks like a beach house. He's smiling. Actually smiling. Not that tight, polite smile he used at the end. A real smile. Laugh lines around his eyes.

I stare at the photo. The woman has her arm around his waist. His wedding ring is gone.

The bathroom door opens. Steam billows out. Daniel emerges with a towel around his waist, his hair still wet. He smells like my old shower gel—my favorite scent.

"Hey beautiful," he says, walking over to kiss my temple. "What're you looking at?"

I quickly minimize the app, putting my phone face down on the nightstand. "Nothing. Just work stuff."

"Okay." He slides into bed next to me. "Movie night?" He wraps his arms around my waist from behind, spooning me. His fingers play with the hem of my shirt. "I missed you today." He presses a kiss between my shoulder blades. "Work was rough."

I nod into the pillow, hiding my face from him. The photo keeps looping in my mind. That real smile. The woman. The beach house.

"Sweetie?" Daniel nuzzles my neck. "You okay?"

"Yeah." The lie comes too easy now. "Just tired."

He doesn't notice anything. He presses hot lips against my shoulder.

"Okay." He slides into bed next to me. "Movie night?" He wraps his arms around my waist from behind, spooning me. His fingers play with the hem of my shirt. "I missed you today." He presses a kiss between my shoulder blades. "Work was rough."