My Wife's Birthday Gift

Early the next morning, I wrapped up everything with my coworker as fast as I could and grabbed the earliest flight home.

I needed to catch those two red-handed.

As soon as I landed, I headed straight for the apartment.

When I knocked, Phoebe clearly thought her secret guy had shown up. She opened the door in a low-cut satin nightdress, smiling, all bright and excited.

The moment she saw it was me, her smile froze.

"Tr-Troy… I thought you weren't flying in until tomorrow!"

Phoebe stumbled over her words, as if my showing up early had ruined whatever she had planned.

"I missed you too much, so I switched my ticket. Nice surprise, right?"

Trying not to feel sick, I stepped in and hugged her, resting my chin on her shoulder. My eyes went straight to the candlelit dinner for two set up on the table.

I didn't need to guess who she was planning to share it with.

"Are you hiding a little boyfriend behind my back or something? Candlelight, the outfit… Feels like I came home at the worst possible time."

Phoebe instantly pushed at my chest and muttered, "N-No, you've got it all wrong. I was supposed to have a girls' night with a friend, but she suddenly couldn't make it…"

"Okay, okay, relax. I was joking." I pinched her nose lightly and smiled. "Anyway, I'm starving. Let's eat."

She nodded, looking like she had finally stopped holding her breath.

I grabbed a fork and shoved a bite of steak into my mouth. It tasted pretty good.

Phoebe sat across from me, tapping on her phone. Every now and then, she would glance at the screen and give this shy little smile.

It was the kind of smile people make when they really like someone.

She had never smiled at me like that.

Seeing it felt like someone pressed a block of ice right against my chest. I could barely breathe.

Phoebe suddenly looked up and caught me watching. Her whole face cooled instantly. "I'm full. I'm going to the bedroom."

She turned around and walked off, shutting the door behind her.

It was a long time before I finally pushed the door open. Phoebe was already asleep.

There was a dried stain on the sheets. I couldn't stop imagining what she and that guy had been doing before I came home.

I forced myself to swallow my rage. A part of me wanted to rip the whole bed apart and toss it out the window.

My eyes drifted to the phone on her nightstand, and curiosity burned through me. I picked it up and opened her messages.

It was like fate was shoving the truth right in my face.

Her pinned chat was with a guy whose profile picture showed him driving. She had him saved as "Mr. Feron".

The second I opened their chat history, all the blood in my body seemed to have turned to ice.

Tons of dirty messages popped up on the screen.