Chapter 4 .

ANABEL'S POV

The voice slammed into me before I even reached the top of the stairs.

"Oh, fuck yes, baby! Fuck me harder!"

My foot froze mid-step. My brows crashed together. For a second, I told myself I was hearing things, that the house was empty and my mind was just tired. But then it came again, clearer this time, dirtier.

"Uhhh... give it to me, Miles. You're so fucking big."

My blood went cold. 

That was Cierra. There was no mistaking it. I'd heard her laugh, her whine, her fake-sweet tone too many times in this house to be wrong now. And she was moaning my husband's name.

The realization of what they were doing settled in my chest, my fingers curled into a fist so tight that my nails dug into my palm as I forced myself to keep climbing. The hallway was dark. The air felt heavier with every step.

Then I heard it.

The wet, rhythmic clapping echoing from behind the door, the kind of sound that left no room for doubt. And the worst part...

It was coming from behind our matrimonial bedroom door. Our room. Our bed. The room where our wedding photo still sat on the dresser. The room I thought was a safe place for Miles and me. 

My chest caved in. I immediately quickened my pace, my pulse roaring in my ears until I was standing in front of the door. My hand shot to the handle. I turned it. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing.

My brows knitted together because the door wasn't locked. I could feel that. But my arm wouldn't move. It was like something was holding me in place. I yanked harder. Nothing.

A buzzing started low in my ears, vibrating, rising until the hallway, the door, the sounds... everything went black.

I shot upright in bed, gasping, my heart hammering against my ribs, sweat clinging to my skin. My eyes flew open, and I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to breathe.

A dream.

God, that had to be the worst dream of the year.

The buzzing was still there, real this time. My phone. I reached for the bedside table, but by the time my fingers closed around it, the screen had already gone dark. I tapped it awake. One notification.

Chloe: Happy birthday, Anabel. Your special day is finally here.

My eyes drifted to the date at the top of the screen. July 18. My birthday.

I stared at it until the numbers blurred. A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it. I had almost forgotten it was my birthday. A day that was supposed to be mine, yet I was alone in a cold bed while my husband was still avoiding me.

I pushed my legs over the side of the mattress and sat there for a moment, the silence pressing in on me. What a birthday gift. A nightmare that felt too real.

I stood, the dream still ringing in my head. Her voice. His name. The clapping sound that came with them fucking. It lingered like smoke, and some sick part of me wondered if it had been a warning.

With everything I'd seen lately — the pictures she'd sent him on his laptop, the way she always had an excuse to be here. Was my subconscious trying to tell me something?

If so, I guess it succeeded because, from the way things were looking, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd already fucked her right here under this roof.

I exhaled and told myself to move, to go to the bathroom, to wash my face. But then laughter floated up from downstairs. Bright. Familiar. 

Cierra.

My head snapped toward the door. I didn't think. I just opened it and went. The scent hit me first. Coffee. Pancakes. Warm, domestic, the kind of morning that should have made me smile if I wasn't already bracing myself for pain.

Then I saw them.

Miles and Cierra were running around the living room like children playing tag. He was chasing her. She was shrieking with laughter, and my stomach dropped when I realized what she was wearing. Miles's hoodies.

A hard lump formed in my throat just from watching. I pinched the skin on my arm hard, hoping this was just another dream. But unfortunately, it was real. I didn't wake up.

They saw me. Both of them. And they didn't even bother to stop. They kept going like I was furniture. Like I was invisible.

Miles caught Cierra, lifted her off her feet, spun her once, twice, then set her down on the couch and started tickling her until she was breathless with laughter.

My throat closed. My lips felt bruised from how hard I was biting them. That scene tore through me like a blade. That was supposed to be me. That laugh was supposed to be mine. That hoodie was supposed to be on me. That was our thing. Not hers. Not with him.

Early in our marriage, I used to steal his hoodies because they smelled like him. He’d always roll his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, before pulling me into his arms anyway. Now she was wearing one instead.

I couldn't breathe through it. I cleared my throat before the silence could choke me. The sound cut through the room, and finally... they stopped. Their smiles disappeared.

The light in the room dimmed as though I'd sucked it all out just by standing there, and the once lively atmosphere suddenly became painfully awkward.

"Oh," Miles said. Flat. Empty. "You're awake."

That was all?

No "Good morning." No "Happy birthday." Not even an apology in his eyes. Just… Oh.

My chest ached.

Was that really how far things between us had fallen? Did he really forget today was my birthday? Or did he just not care anymore?

The questions burned behind my teeth.

I forced myself to speak before I fell apart. "What's going on here?"

The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't take them back. Because I was done pretending.