His Affair with the Maid Cost Him Everything

I, Sabrina Lambert, started suspecting my husband, Wyatt Keyes, of cheating—all because of something tiny. The day our company won the bid, he said, "Why don't we order some afternoon snacks to celebrate? I remember you have a membership card for that bakery, right? Just get that red velvet cake everyone's talking about. I'll pay." Wyatt never touched desserts or sweets. Every time he saw me eating them, he'd scold me. "What's the point of all that sugar? Sabrina, just because we're doing well now doesn't mean you should waste money. Wouldn't it be better to save that money and buy some real food?" So when he said that, I froze for a second. Still, I pulled out my phone and ordered the desserts he wanted—I asked the bakery to deliver them straight to the office. Everyone at the company was thrilled. They gathered in the break room and thanked me. "Thank you, Mr. Keyes and Mrs. Keyes!" I happily handed out the slices. But when I got to the last slice, I realized one was missing. The next day, I went to Wyatt's office to drop off a contract. That's when I saw the cake tray—sitting in his trash can. My heart tightened. A million thoughts ran through my mind. Without making a scene, I pulled out the glucose meter and tested his blood sugar. The reading came back normal. He wiped his finger with a tissue and frowned at me. "Sabrina, my blood sugar has been stable for a long time. You don't have to be so careful." I sat across from him, coldly. "Wyatt," I said, "if you sneak food, wipe your mouth afterward. Don't embarrass us both at your age." His face dropped. "What are you talking about? What sneaking? Sabrina, can you not act like some bitter housewife?" That set me off. I grabbed the trash can and dumped it upside down on his desk—garbage, the cake tray with cream still stuck to it, everything spread out. I said, "Don't tell me you ate this cake. One, you don't even like sweets. Two, you hate it when anyone eats in your office—me included. So who was it? Who's so special you'd let them do this?" Wyatt just stood there, his face dark, saying nothing. To me, his silence felt like a confession. So I yanked his office door open, walked to the conference room, and started calling in all the young, pretty women from the company for a meeting. The message was clear. The whole office started whispering. Wyatt couldn't take it anymore. He stormed into the conference room, and we had a huge fight. "Sabrina, why do you have to be so paranoid?" he asked. "I ate that cake myself. I just didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry." It was such a weak lie. I snorted. "Now you can't even be bothered to lie to me properly, can you?" He didn't answer and just stood at the door, lips pressed tight. I was so angry that I grabbed my bag and left. After that day, we started giving each other the silent treatment. Then, this morning, the family doctor called me to come pick up my physical exam report.