My Husband Chose His Mistress

The next day, as I was getting his coat ready for dry cleaning, I stumbled upon a phone in the pocket that wasn’t Princeton's. Just then, it rang.

I frowned and picked it up. A woman's voice on the other end said, "Is this Tiana? It's Zuri."

I felt my grip on the phone tighten instinctively.

She continued, "Don't misunderstand, I accidentally left my phone in Princeton's pocket yesterday."

"Could you do me a favor and drop the phone off at Princeton's office? Thanks."

She quickly rattled off a few sentences without giving me a chance to reply. While she seemed to be apologizing, every word reminded me of the special connection she had with Princeton.

When I got to the office, I saw through the glass wall that Zuri was helping Princeton adjust his tie. They stood close, with Zuri looking at Princeton tenderly, as if doting on him.

I had once wanted to help him with his tie too. What did he say back then? He said that a simple task like that was something the staff could handle.

Yet now, he was clearly enjoying it. It wasn't that he didn't like the gesture; he just didn't want it from me.

I didn’t want to stay and endure any more humiliation. I just wanted to get away.

But Zuri called out, "Oh, Tiana, you’re here. Thanks for going out of your way."

I handed over the phone, trying to act nonchalant, "No problem at all."

As I turned to leave, the feelings of bitterness and sadness only grew stronger with each step.