I never thought of myself as the jealous type.
Trust had always been the foundation of my relationship with Marcus, and in our three years together, he had never given me a reason to doubt him.
But something had changed in the past few weeks. His work schedule had suddenly become unpredictable, and late nights at the office had become the norm. At first, I tried to be understanding.
After all, he was working on a big project, and long hours came with the territory. But the nagging feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away.
One night, after tucking our daughter, Ava, into bed, I received a notification on my phone. The security camera I had installed in our home sent alerts whenever movement was detected.
Expecting it to be a glitch, I opened the app, but the footage didn’t show our living room.
It was from the bar down the street—a camera I had set up after a string of break-ins in our neighborhood.
And there, clear as day, was Marcus.
My heart pounded as I zoomed in. He wasn’t alone. A woman with long, auburn hair sat beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
I felt my stomach drop. The timestamp showed it was just minutes ago—he was supposed to be at work.
I watched as Marcus leaned in, whispering something in the woman’s ear.
The stranger laughed, tossing her hair back in a way that made my blood boil. This was not some innocent work meeting. This was something else entirely.
For a moment, I froze, unsure of what to do. The rational side of me told me to wait, to ask questions before jumping to conclusions. But the emotional side—the one now burning with betrayal—demanded action.
I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to the bar. The whole ride there, my hands trembled on the steering wheel.
What was I going to do? Confront him in front of everyone? Drag him home and demand an explanation? Or worse—walk in and catch him doing something I could never forgive?
The bar was dimly lit, packed with people laughing and clinking glasses.
My eyes scanned the room until they landed on Marcus. He was still there, still leaning too close to the auburn-haired woman. I wasn’t sure how I found the strength, but I marched straight toward them.
“Marcus,” I said, my voice steady but filled with ice.
His head snapped up, eyes widening with shock. “Sienna?” His face drained of color.
The woman beside him glanced between us, quickly removing her hand from his arm.
“Is this the office now?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Marcus fumbled for words, his mouth opening and closing. “I—I was just—”
“Just what?” I pressed. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you were lying to me.”
The woman shifted uncomfortably. “I should go,” she muttered before grabbing her purse and disappearing into the crowd.
I didn’t take my eyes off Marcus. “Tell me the truth. Right now.”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what it looks like.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s what every cheater says.”
He shook his head. “I swear, I wasn’t cheating. I just—” He hesitated, looking guilty. “I’ve been taking Italian lessons.”
I blinked. “What?”
He sighed. “I wanted to surprise you. I know how much you love the language, how you’ve been trying to learn it yourself.
I thought it would be romantic if I learned it too, so I hired a tutor. Lila is my teacher.”
I stared at him, my anger wavering. “Then why lie? Why tell me you were working late?”
He looked ashamed. “Because I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
And I knew if I told you I was spending late nights with another woman, you’d be suspicious. But I should have told you the truth.”
Tears pricked my eyes, a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “You absolute idiot,” I muttered, shaking my head. “You scared me half to death.”
His lips twitched into a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
For a long moment, I stood there, trying to decide what came next. This wasn’t the betrayal I had feared, but it was still a deception.
Finally, I nodded. “We’ll talk about this later. But Marcus?”
“Yes?”
I exhaled sharply. “You better be fluent after all this trouble.”
He chuckled, taking my hand. “I’m trying. Ti amo, Sienna.”
Despite myself, I laughed. “Close enough.”
