It was Sarah—my ex. The one who had made my life hell after our breakup.

“What the hell did you do?” I snapped, gripping the sponge so hard my knuckles ached.

She smirked. “Just giving Emily a reality check. She deserves to know who she married.”

“There’s nothing to know! I never cheated on you, and I’ve never cheated on her!” My voice echoed in the empty parking lot.

Sarah shrugged. “Details. She looked devastated, though. Bet she’s wondering.”

Fury boiled in my chest. “You just destroyed my marriage over a lie.”

“Destroyed?” she scoffed. “Please. If she trusts you, she’ll believe you.” Then she walked away like she hadn’t just detonated a bomb in my life.

Emily wouldn’t answer my calls that night. The next morning, she finally texted: We need to talk.

I showed up at her mom’s house, terrified. But when Emily opened the door, she wasn’t angry—just tired. “I know you didn’t do it,” she said.

Relief crashed over me. “Sarah—”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I also know I let her get to me.”

That night, we made a promise: No one would come between us again.