Eight Years Married to a Liar

Seraphina Gray's husband, Cedric Fox, had recently taken up golf. She asked about the weekly expense, but Cedric brushed it off as necessary—networking with bosses and colleagues at his new job. One rainy day, Seraphina went to the club to bring him an umbrella. Instead, she found him in the luxurious bathroom. Through a c***k in the door, she watched Cedric with his golf instructor, Ophelia Voss. Ophelia's moans echoed. "Oh my god, Cedric, yes!" Seraphina froze, her eyes locked on Cedric—the husband who she thought had a heart condition, the man she never let lift a finger at home. Now he was moving with a force she'd never seen. Cedric was her first love, her only love. They met when his delivery bike knocked her down crossing the street. Seraphina scraped her arm; his bike was totaled. When he mentioned his heart condition, she didn't ask for a cent—she even delivered his remaining orders herself, well past dark. After they married, Seraphina did everything. Heavy lifting, rough chores—she handled it all. Even in bed, she stayed on top, convinced she was protecting him from any strain. For years, his condition never flared. Seraphina thought her care had kept him safe. She never imagined he'd been lying from the start. Eight years—she'd been such a fool. The wave of anger passed, and Seraphina wanted to cry. But her eyes stayed dry. She crouched outside the bathroom door, pressing her hand to her mouth, her face twisting with pain. The sounds from inside wouldn't stop. "Bet you're not this good with your wife." Cedric paused, then smirked. "She's not worth the effort. You're different. You're soft. She's rough. You're wet, too. She's as dry as sandpaper." His words cut deep—a knife sharpened over eight years, slicing into her chest. Seraphina wanted to storm in, slap him, scream. Then she caught her reflection in the mirror above the sink. She looked exhausted, worn down. Eight years of marriage, she'd given Cedric everything. And in return, she'd faded into someone she barely recognized. Before the marriage with Cedric, Reed Group—one of the country's top companies—had tracked her down. They claimed she was their long-lost daughter and invited her to Reed Manor. Back then, Seraphina had asked innocently if she could still be with Cedric once she returned to Reed Manor. Her birth father, August Reed, smiled, "You're the heir to the Reed family. You shouldn't marry some poor boy." Seraphina hadn't hesitated. She chose Cedric. She thought she was fighting for love. Now she finally understood—her so-called love had been nothing but a joke. Seraphina stood up, dazed, and walked out. Memories flickered through her mind like an old film. Somehow, she ended up on the course. A group swung their clubs nearby. A caddy approached. "Miss, who are you here for?" Numbly, Seraphina handed him the umbrella and asked him to give it to Cedric. At the name, the golfers paused and turned. A man walked over. "We work with Cedric. You're Seraphina, his wife, right?" Seraphina didn't answer. She was still reeling. Just then, Cedric and Ophelia strolled back to the course. He froze when he saw her, then quickly recovered. His coworkers grinned. "Seraphina braved the rain just to bring you an umbrella. That's sweet." "Hey, Cedric, I thought money wasn't an issue. Why's she so... plain?" They exchanged glances, smirking. Cedric laughed it off smoothly. "You've got it wrong. She's my cousin. Keep joking like that, and she'll get upset." He took the umbrella from the caddy, pulled Seraphina aside, and lowered his voice. "You couldn't call first?" Dressed like this—you trying to embarrass me? Just go home. I'm finally fitting in at work. Don't ruin it." Seraphina stared at him. A wave of nausea hit. She remembered getting his golf membership—she'd paid for it herself. The staff had accidentally added her to the members' group chat. She pulled out her phone, scrolled to the chat, and posted the photos she'd taken of Cedric and Ophelia in the bathroom. Seraphina: Highly recommend Ophelia's lessons! She's really improved my husband's form.