My Husband's Affair, My Anniversary Gift

The music inside the bar thumped like a heartbeat, heavy and relentless, but Lily no longer felt the rhythm. The moment she caught David's cold gaze from across the dance floor, something inside her deflated.

Her steps faltered, the song fading in her ears even though it was still playing loud and fast. There, standing just a few feet away near the entrance, was David. And beside him, arm-in-arm and looking as smug as ever, was Marina.

The sight of them together hit her like a punch to the stomach.

David's eyes found hers almost instantly. His expression didn't change—calm, cold, unreadable. Marina, on the other hand, spotted Lily and immediately tightened her grip on David's arm, as if marking her territory.

Lily stepped back, bumping into another dancer.

Lily's heart pounded in her chest. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Did he follow her? Was this a coincidence? Did Marina bring him here on purpose?

David didn't approach.

He simply stood there, watching her like a predator sizing up its prey.

But Lily stood her ground. No, she thought. Why should I leave? This was my night. I came here to breathe, to live.

She looked directly at David, chin lifting slightly, and without breaking eye contact, she turned back toward the crowd and continued dancing. Every move became sharper, freer, louder. She wasn't just dancing—she was declaring something. You can't control me anymore.

With just a sharp flick of indifference, he turned and walked toward the VIP section, Marina clinging to his side like ivy wrapping around a dying tree.

Noa came back with drinks, two tall glasses glinting under the club lights, and saw the sudden shift in Lily's face. "Hey, what happened?" she asked, looking in the direction of Lily's gaze.

"I don't feel like dancing anymore," Lily murmured, taking the drink with both hands but not sipping. Her fingers were trembling faintly.

Noa followed her eyes and grimaced. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered. "What is he doing here? Can't that witch just fall into a manhole already?"

Lily gave a dry laugh, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I think I need to use the restroom."

"You want me to go with—?"

"No. I'll be fine," she said softly, brushing past the crowd toward the hallway.

The restroom was cooler, quieter—like stepping into a different world. Lily splashed cold water on her face and stared at her reflection. She looked tired. Not in the sleepless sort of way, but the kind of exhaustion that weighed on the soul. It wasn't just about David anymore. It was about everything—being stuck, being unwanted in every job application, being controlled like a pawn in someone else's game.

And David… he had made himself clear. He would eat happily with Marina, flaunt her presence in public, sabotage Lily's job prospects behind the scenes, and still act as if he owned her life.

Pathetic, she thought. You're pathetic.

Lily turned away from the mirror, wiped her hands with a paper towel, and exited the restroom.

As she turned back down the hallway, wiping her lip clean, she didn't expect him to be standing there—leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her like a lion sizing up its prey.

She had come here to let go, to breathe, to remind herself that life existed outside of David. And yet he showed up like a shadow she couldn't escape.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Lily," he said, his voice low and mocking. "Or is this your new job? Seducing men at bars?"

Lily stopped in her tracks, blinking. The insult cut sharper than expected. "Excuse me?"

David tilted his head with a cold smile. "You were dancing like your life depended on it. Makes me wonder—were you hoping some rich guy would offer you a job... or a bed?"

Her cheeks burned, not from shame but fury. "First of all, I wasn't seducing anyone. And second, maybe if you hadn't gone around blacklisting me, I wouldn't have to be out here trying to forget what a miserable boss you are!"

David's smirk didn't fade. In fact, it deepened. "Why would I let someone I trained walk out and possibly leak everything she knows to a competitor?" He stepped closer, the air between them growing heavier. "Do you think I'm that stupid?"

"You're not stupid," Lily hissed. "You're just cruel."

He leaned closer, their faces only inches apart. "No," he said huskily, "I trained you. Every report, every file, every coffee order—perfect. And... even your performance in bed... You think that was just business? You think I didn't notice how close you stood? How you bit your lip when you were nervous? Or how your voice always softened when you said my name?"

Her breath caught.

Her anger snapped. With a burst of fury, she slapped him. The sound echoed in the hallway like a gunshot. David's face jerked slightly from the force, but his eyes flared, the line of his jaw tightening with rage.

His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before she could turn. In one swift motion, he pushed her against the wall, his body pressing dangerously close.

"You've got guts, don't you?" he growled, his breath hot against her cheek. "That's twice now. Twice you've put your hands on me."

Lily struggled, but the moment his body pinned hers, a different kind of heat flared between them. Her chest heaved, pressed against his, and his scent—something expensive and musky—flooded her senses.

His grip wasn't just painful but firm, controlling and commanding. His eyes locked with hers, no longer just angry, but intense, searching and burning.

Lily's heart thundered in her chest.

"I don't own you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"You just keep choosing to test me," he murmured, his lips so close now she could feel them hover above hers.

"You..." she began, but her voice broke.

His hand loosened on her wrist, sliding up to her jaw. "Do you think I'll let my teaching go to waste?" he said darkly.

His thumb brushed her cheek, his body still pressing into hers. Their breath mingled, the air charged and tight, like the world would implode if they moved even an inch closer.

Lily's body trembled—not from fear, but from the electricity humming under her skin. She hated him. She loathed everything he had done. But her body betrayed her—responding to his touch, to his nearness, to the way he spoke like he still had a right to her.

"I hate you," she whispered, voice cracking.

"You do," David said, almost gently. "But it doesn't change anything, does it?"

He leaned in further, their noses brushing now. Her lips parted, caught between resisting and surrendering, her breath shallow as her heart pounded in a wild rhythm.