The Other Mrs. Cole

Chapter 2

I wiped the tears from my face and stormed off to Weston's office, determined to get answers.

After all these years together, I could not let a few words from the security guard make me second-guess our marriage. Maybe he had gotten the wrong guy.

When I arrived, the secretary ushered me respectfully to his office door. "Mr. Cole, Mrs. Cole is here," she said.

The second he spotted me, his grin flashed as bright as ever. "Well, look who decided to drop by," he teased. "Couldn't stay away, huh? I was just about to wrap up early and come home to you."

He did not get up, and he gestured at his computer instead. "I'm in the middle of a meeting," he said. "Just give me a minute. Make yourself comfortable on the couch."

His gaze was as tender as always, full of affection. Not wanting to interrupt, I sank into the sofa, and my mind raced. How could I even bring this up?

Then, out of nowhere, he let out a throaty grunt. The room was so quiet that I heard it perfectly.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

His frown melted into a sheepish grin. "Nothing," he said. "I just bit my tongue."

I shook my head, amused. Then I turned slightly and caught the shadowy curve of a woman's cheek in the reflective glass panel beside us. Her lips were moving in a way that made my stomach lurch.

A bolt of icy horror seared through me, freezing me from my toes to my skull. My eyes burned as I fought not to scream. I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms, and I held back the sob that clawed at my throat.

I stood abruptly, and my voice came out hoarse. "Since you are busy, I will head back. I don't like leaving the baby alone."

His lips twisted into a playful pout. "Ever since the little one came along, I've been playing second fiddle," he sighed dramatically. "Go on, then, but text me when you're home safe."

Every word of his fake kindness twisted the knife deeper. My vision blurred, but I ducked my head before he could see. As I turned to leave, my eyes dragged back to the glass, begging to be wrong. Under the desk, the girl's head moved up and down.

The moment I left the building, the tears I had been holding back flooded out uncontrollably. Never in my worst nightmares had I thought Weston would betray me. Yet here was the brutal reality, ugly and undeniable, staring me in the face.

I blinked through the blur of tears, and my hands trembled as I grabbed my phone. I turned on the speaker, and the audio from the spare device under the couch came through.

"Mr. Cole, does this feel good?" purred a sickly sweet voice.

His reply was ice-cold. "Maeve almost caught us," he said. "I told you. She must never find out."

The girl's voice dripped with fake apology. "Don't be angry," she said. "Mrs. Cole didn't notice. I just thought it would be more exciting for you this way." She added a teasing pause. "I'm sorry, okay? Forgive me?"

After a beat, his tone softened. "This can't happen again," he said.

She giggled. "Knew you would be sweet to me," she whispered, and her words were laced with innuendo. "You didn't finish, did you? Let me help you."

Then came the sounds: moans, sharp breaths, and skin slapping against skin. They crackled through the speaker, fragmented and raw. I bit my lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and the pain was my only tether to reality.