Clayton smiled, his face full of tenderness, as his hand gently caressed my cheek.
"Did you forget what tomorrow is?"
I froze for a moment. "Our sixth wedding anniversary?"
"Exactly."
He gave a playful scratch to my nose.
"Even with my busy schedule, I can’t miss coming home to spend our anniversary with my good girl."
I inwardly sneered.
He had no idea. I had just seen Odessa’s update on her Instagram.
She had posted, [Someone’s truly heartless, satisfies himself and leaves. But luckily, tomorrow, he promised me an even more exciting experience.]
In the hotel suite, Clayton had arranged a grand celebration.
A two-tiered cake stood before me, the words "Grow old together, Happy forever" scrawled across it.
The irony was almost suffocating.
Clayton had always kept me from drinking too much, but tonight, he insisted on pouring me a few more glasses.
"Irene, I’ll be by your side. Don’t worry, just drink up. The driver will take us home later."
I could see the mockery dancing in his eyes—his plan was clear. He wanted me drunk so he could slip away unnoticed to meet his lover.
Fifteen minutes ago, as he sliced into the cake, a message flashed across his phone.