Page 1 of 999 private photos appeared in my husband’s synced messages

I'd been to Mark's company countless times.

Ten years ago, Mark and I started from nothing. Three months ago, I was still the technical director.

Until that miscarriage, Mark convinced me to rest at home.

In just three months, a girl I'd never seen before, Emily McCoy, appeared at the company, intimately close to him.

She had seamlessly taken over my role.

The receptionist's eyes lit up when she saw me: "Ms. Gilbert, you're here!"

I raised an eyebrow slightly: "Why are you suddenly calling me that?"

Before, colleagues always called me by my first name; no one used my surname.

She scratched her head and smiled: "Mr. Smith felt it was impolite for us to call you by your first name, so he asked us to address you as Ms. Gilbert."

I sneered inwardly. Before I could speak, Mark hurried over.

He rushed out of the elevator and draped his suit jacket over my shoulders.

He said: "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? It's windy outside, are you cold?"

I smiled and held up the thermal container in my hand: "You said you'd be working late tonight, so I brought you dinner."

His eyes sparkled with delight: "Thank you for cooking for me, but just this once. I'd feel terrible if you got hurt."

On the way to his office, employees greeted us warmly, their eyes full of envy.

In everyone's eyes, Mark loved me deeply, obeyed my every word, and spoiled me beyond measure.

Until a girl walked into the office, smiling brightly: "Hello, Ms. Gilbert, I'm the new assistant, Emily McCoy. Let me make you some coffee!"

I looked at her faceidentical to the person in Mark's photo album.

So it was her.

I extended my hand: "Hello, I'm Elena Gilbert, Mark's wife."

Her face instantly turned pale, and she left in a panic with her head down.

Mark praised Emily to me: "Speaking of which, Emily is actually your junior, ten years younger than us, very talented, just like you."

I felt somewhat dazed. Mark and I were college classmates; he confessed to me the year we graduated.

Five years of dating, five years of marriagewe'd been together for a full ten years.

Now he was saying another person was like me.

Same major, similar names, but she was full of vitality and adorably lively.

I looked down and noticed a black hair tie hidden under his shirt cuff.

I said: "I haven't seen this hair tie before. Did you buy it for me?"

He instinctively tugged at his sleeve, then frantically pulled off the hair tie and shoved it into a drawer.

He said: "My hair's gotten long and it's inconvenient for work, so I just bought one randomly."

He was lying. A hair tie that thick could only be used for long hair.

He could have brushed it off, but instead he chose to make a flimsy excuse.

He pulled my hand over to touch his hair: "Look, I'm growing it out waiting for you to cut it."

I was terrible at cutting hair, but he always enjoyed it, saying only my handiwork was good.

Just then, Emily came in with coffee. Seeing our position, her smile became strained.

She said: "Ms. Gilbert, your coffee..."

Before she finished speaking, the scalding coffee spilled on my arm, instantly turning it red.

Mark's expression darkened: "How could you be so careless?"

Emily looked at him in disbelief, her eyes reddening as she covered her face and ran out.

I watched Mark's anger fade and quickly turn to regret.

He still put on a show of checking my injury: "Honey, I'll go buy some burn ointment. Wait for me."

I nodded: "Go ahead."