Chapter 1

George's first love, Eve, was back.

She'd fallen so far that even her villa was up for auction.

I asked him if he still had feelings for her. He frowned and said that was all in the past.

I believed him.

Until his phone lit up in the middle of the night. A bank transfer notification. Eight hundred thousand dollars.

That money was used to buy Eve's villa.

He used our joint marital assets to buy back another woman's home.

I sat there holding my phone, waiting for him to wake up. Then I saw Eve's latest Instagram post:

"Some people say goodbye with their lips, but hold up the sky for you in secret."

The photo was of the villa's garden.

I suddenly remembered what George said when he proposed to me:

"I'm the kind of man who only loves once in his lifetime."

Turns out he meant every word. It's just that the one he loved was always Eve.

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George's phone lit up again.

Eve had posted a second Instagram story. A photo of a front door, with the caption: "Home."

I stared at that door.

Last year George had taken me to see that villa. It was built by Eve's grandfather, over a hundred years old.

He said the house had history. A shame, he said, that Eve's family had lost everything.

I didn't think much of it then.

Now I understood why he knew so much about it.

The living room lights were off. The glow from the phone screen fell across my face.

I pulled up the transfer record. Eight hundred thousand, clean. The recipient was a private auction house. The memo field was filled in clearly: "Final payment — villa."

He'd never been that careful when buying anything for us.

I heard movement from the bedroom. George woke up and shuffled out in his slippers. He saw me sitting on the couch and stopped.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

I turned the phone screen toward him.

George went still. He walked over and reached for the phone. I pulled it back.

"Eve's villa. You bought it?"

He didn't answer.

"I'm talking to you."

"Yes." His voice was quiet. "Her place was going to auction. I helped her get it back. Don't worry — I'll cover the money from somewhere else. It won't affect us."

I almost laughed. "Won't affect us." We'd been married three years. His money and my money had long since blurred together. Now he was saying this "wouldn't affect us" — like it was a shared decision? Eight hundred thousand dollars, and he just did it. Without asking me once.

"When did you decide to do this?"

"Just... recently."

"Recently?" I checked the transfer date again. "Ten days ago. For ten days you ate dinner with me, slept next to me, and said nothing."

George frowned. "I didn't want you overthinking it."

"Overthinking what, exactly?"

He looked at me for a moment, then sighed. "Karen, Eve and I are history. She's in a tough spot and I helped her out. That's all. Don't read into it."

"That's all."

Then why did you write "Eve's villa" in the transfer memo? Why did you like every Instagram post she put up the second she uploaded it? How did you even know her family villa was going to auction the moment she got back?

None of that happens without effort.

I didn't say any of that. I only said one thing: "You helping her — I have no problem with that. But you used our joint money to do it without even mentioning it to me. Do you think that's okay?"

George's expression shifted. He sat down across from me, hands folded over his knees, voice softer now. "You're right, I should have talked to you first. I just wanted to lock in the bid before someone else got it. That house means everything to her family."

"It means a lot to you too, doesn't it?"

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