My Husband Cheated With His Childhood Friend

The next afternoon, I headed over to drop off Zaiden's lunch like I always did. Making his meals was a routine I'd held onto, even through my illness. While I cooked, I'd catch myself thinking that maybe spending whatever time I had left like this wouldn't be so bad. Keeping the peace, pretending I didn't notice—that felt like the safest bet. After all, that's how it'd always been. So why go stirring things up now, at the very end?

Unfortunately, not everyone wanted the same quiet lie.

When I got to the office, I caught whispers drifting from a corner nearby.

"Mila is gorgeous—effortlessly stunning, you know?"

The second they spotted me, they clammed up—though their eyes stayed glued to me, full of curiosity. So Mila was here.

I pressed my lips together, took a shaky breath, and pushed open the office door. And then I just… froze.

Zaiden and Mila were sitting together, sharing the lunch she'd brought in a heart-shaped container. Sunlight streamed through the window, catching them in a soft frame that made them look as if they had always belonged together. Zaiden hung on her every word, his voice soft when he answered, and she smiled. Mila let her fingers graze his arm, easy and intimate—the kind of closeness we'd never had.

The breath I'd been holding snagged in my throat, sharp and painful. I wanted to cough it out, to make a sound, anything—but I stayed silent.

I stood there, completely lost, when Zaiden turned and locked eyes with me. The warmth of their little moment shattered the second I walked in, and just like that, his expression went ice-cold.

"My mom asked Mila to bring me lunch. I couldn't exactly say no," he said, his voice flat. Like it was nothing.

I lifted the insulated lunch bag in my hand. "What about this? I took the time to make it…"

Zaiden cut me off, waving a hand. "Just take it home. Didn't Mom tell you already? You don't need to come by anymore. Mila's working here now—she'll take care of my meals."

I stood there, stunned, trying to process the words coming out of his mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mila smirking at me, her smile dripping with mockery and disdain.

"You should head back. You're not an employee here, so hanging around isn't really appropriate," Zaiden added.

I nodded weakly, feeling like the floor had just been ripped out from under me. Once, back when I'd offered to help out at the company, Zaiden had shut me down with almost the exact same words.

"I'm the boss here. I have to set an example—no favoritism."

But Mila? She'd studied design abroad, a field that had absolutely nothing to do with Zaiden's trading business. So how did she get to waltz in here and set up shop so easily?

In the end, I guess it all boils down to one thing: who the person is.