My Husband’s Regret After I Cheated

Three years into our marriage, I finally learned from my husband. I went looking for love somewhere else.

Three years ago, when his family went bankrupt, I handed him every cent I had. I nursed his dying grandfather. To support his entrepreneurial venture, I accompanied investors in drinking until I suffered stomach hemorrhages—time and time again.

In the end, he honored his grandfather's dying wish and married me. Then he got blind drunk on our wedding day and walked out before the vows were finished.

He said he hated me. Hated me for driving his childhood sweetheart Seraphina away. Hated me for costing him the only woman he ever loved.

Our marriage was his revenge.

Until the day Seraphina came home, and I slid the divorce papers across the table.

The man who swore he hated me went red in the eyes, staring at the kiss mark on my throat…

Ethan's message came in while Lucas and I were having breakfast across from each other.

Ethan Harrington was the man I'd chosen to cheat with. Young, full of heat, eager and obedient where it counted. My phone buzzed a few times on the table, which earned me a glance from the man across from me.

I unlocked the screen and his messages flew in one after another.

"When are you divorcing him?"

"Baby, you promised you'd own up to us. You said you'd give me a real place in your life."

"I don't want to do this in the shadows anymore. I want to be with you out in the open."

The string of messages made me wince. I scrolled all the way down and found a photo attached at the bottom. He was still sleepy, just out of bed.

His robe hung half-open, the ridges of his abs catching the light in a way that could've stopped traffic. The sheer pull of it hit me before I could brace for it.

Heat crawled up my face. I caught Lucas's eyes flicking toward me and quickly killed the screen, bowing my head over my bowl and avoiding his gaze.

Lucas didn't bother to press it. He set down his own bowl and said, unhurried, "Seraphina is flying in today. My parents and I are taking her to the welcome-home dinner tonight."

"It's a family dinner. You don't need to come. No reason to make her uncomfortable."

The words family dinner stung more than I wanted to admit.

Seraphina and I were the kind of pair you only read about in novels. The real daughter and the switched-in daughter. Except she, the fake, had sunk her roots in long before I ever stepped foot in that house. Not blood, but closer than blood.

A few tears from her and my own parents would look at me with disgust.

To keep her happy, I wasn't allowed to carry the Ashford name. I wasn't even allowed inside the Ashford estate. I was shelved somewhere out of sight, like something they were embarrassed to