After years of trying to hold my marriage together, I thought catching my husband with another woman
was rock bottom. But nothing prepared me for how he flaunted his mistress—or for the unexpected ally
who set things right. I’d been married to Logan for five years. Our struggles with infertility took a toll on me,
and instead of supporting me, Logan drifted—finding solace in the gym and a flashy new car. I blamed myself,
never suspecting what he was really up to. Last night, my best friend Lola convinced me to go out.
We ended up at a cozy jazz club, and for the first time in ages, I was laughing—until Lola’s face went pale.
“Natasha… I don’t want to alarm you, but… is that Logan?” Dread filled me before I even turned.
And there he was, in the corner, draped in a young woman’s embrace, whispering into her ear.
I’d never been one to cause a scene, but my body moved before I could think. I stormed to
their table. “Logan, are you serious right now?!” He flinched—then smirked
