My husband asked me to let my sister be his “wife” for one night. He said it like he was asking me to pass the salt.

He didn’t deny it.

There was the smallest flash of regret across his face—not for the affair, not for the lie, but for being dragged into a room where the ugly parts had to stand upright.

“Did you?” Carissa asked.

Damen swallowed. “Things were complicated.”

“You told my sister your wife was the reason you were cheating.”

“No, I—”

“You told her I didn’t want you.”

He rubbed one hand over his mouth. “Carissa—”

The name sounded exhausted.

As if he were the one being asked to carry too much.

Carissa opened her clutch and took out the envelope.

Everything about that moment felt slow.

The crackle of the paper.
The way a woman near the bar leaned forward.
The way Nikki seemed to realize a half-second too late that this was not merely exposure. It was a handoff.

Carissa held the envelope out to Damen.

“What is this?” he asked.

“You’ve spent ten years pretending I wasn’t your wife,” she said.

THE END