Honesty. He really said that—standing in my home with his mistress.
I should have yelled. Thrown him out. But instead, something colder took over. Because Caleb had made one critical mistake:
he thought he was the only one bringing a surprise.
I glanced at the clock. 8:07.
Right on time, the doorbell rang.
Caleb frowned.
“Are you expecting someone?”
I looked at him calmly.
“Actually, yes. Since you brought a guest, I decided to invite one too.”
Vanessa’s smile faltered. Caleb let out a short laugh.
“What kind of childish game is this?”
I walked past them and opened the door.
The man on the porch was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a navy coat, with the look of someone who already knew this wouldn’t end well.
He stepped inside.
Vanessa turned, saw him, and went completely pale. Her wine glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the wooden floor.
“Marcus…?!”
The crash echoed like a gunshot.
Red wine spread across the floor, but no one moved.
The man beside me—Marcus—stared at her, no longer uncertain. Suspicion had turned into certainty.
Caleb looked between Vanessa, Marcus, and me, his expression unraveling.
“What the hell is this?”