Chapter 2 - The Woman From His Past
The first thing I did after seeing Chloe’s message was not wake up my husband.
I walked into the bathroom.
Quietly.
Like a woman trying not to disturb a sleeping stranger.
That was the part that hurt the most.
Ethan wasn’t supposed to feel like a stranger.
Not after everything.
Not after two years of building a life together.
Not after standing in front of two hundred people and promising me that I was the only person he wanted beside him.
But at 2:27 a.m., sitting alone on the marble floor of our bridal suite bathroom, holding his phone in my hand, I realized something terrifying.
I knew the man I married.
But I didn’t know everything about him.
And those two things were not the same.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
My wedding makeup was still almost perfect.
My hair was still pinned exactly the way the stylist had arranged it.
My diamond earrings were still sparkling.
I looked like a woman who had just experienced the happiest day of her life.
I didn’t look like someone who had just discovered a possible betrayal.
That bothered me.
Because my entire career was built around appearances.
I knew how easily a beautiful image could hide an ugly truth.
I unlocked my own phone.
The first thing I did was search Chloe’s name.
Not because I didn’t know who she was.
I knew exactly who she was.
Everyone close to Ethan knew.
Chloe Bennett.
His first wife.
The woman who had been part of his life before me.
According to Ethan, their marriage had ended because they wanted different things.
According to Ethan, it had been painful but finished.
According to Ethan, there was no reason for me to worry.
I had believed him.
Because I loved him.
Because I had no reason not to.
But now I needed to know what the rest of the world knew.
The search results appeared.
Photos.
Articles.
Old social media posts.
Nothing shocking at first.
Chloe was beautiful.
Elegant.
The kind of woman who looked comfortable anywhere.
She worked in interior design and had built a small but successful company after the divorce.
There were pictures of her at charity events.
Pictures of her traveling.
Pictures of her smiling.
But then I found something strange.
A photograph from three years earlier.
Ethan and Chloe at a business gala.
The caption was simple.
“Celebrating new beginnings.”
I stared at the picture.
They looked happy.
Not fake happy.
Not public happy.
Real happy.
I knew because I had spent years studying people.
The smallest details told the truth.
The way someone leaned toward another person.
The way they touched.
The way they looked at each other when they thought nobody was watching.
Ethan and Chloe had history.
Real history.
I closed the article.
Then I searched something else.
Their divorce.
The official records were limited, but enough information appeared.
Finalized two years and three months ago.
Two years and three months.
My relationship with Ethan began two years later.
So why did Chloe still feel close enough to text him on our wedding night?
That was the question.
Not whether she existed.
Not whether she had been important.
The question was why now.
I returned to Ethan’s phone.
I opened the message again.
“I’m pregnant, Ethan…”
My eyes moved to the photo attachment.
The pregnancy test.
I zoomed in.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I needed to.
The background was blurry.
A bathroom counter.
A small plant.
A reflection in the mirror.
Then I noticed something.
A date sticker.
Tiny.
Almost impossible to see.
But visible.
The photo had been taken three days earlier.
Three days.
Not weeks.
Not months.
Three days.
I sat completely still.
If Chloe was pregnant, she had known recently.
So why wait until tonight?
Why wait until after the ceremony?
Why wait until after I became Ethan’s wife?
My phone buzzed.
I almost dropped it.
For one second, I thought it was Chloe again.
It wasn’t.
It was my best friend Sarah.
I stared at the screen.
Sarah had been my maid of honor.
She had stood beside me all day.
She had watched me marry Ethan.
She had seen his expression when he looked at me walking down the aisle.
I answered.
“Hey,” I whispered.
There was a pause.
Then Sarah’s voice softened.
“Victoria?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re awake?”
I looked at the bathroom door.
At Ethan sleeping on the other side.
“Something happened.”
The silence that followed told me she already knew something was wrong.
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
Because saying it out loud would make it real.
“My husband’s ex-wife texted him.”
Sarah went quiet.
“How bad?”
I closed my eyes.
“She says she’s pregnant.”
Another silence.
Longer this time.
“Victoria…”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
I sat up straighter.
“What do you mean?”
Sarah took a breath.
“I didn’t want to ruin your wedding day.”
My stomach dropped.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw Chloe yesterday.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“Yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At the hotel.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Why was she there?”
“I don’t know.”
Sarah’s voice became quieter.
“But she was asking questions about Ethan.”
“What questions?”
Another pause.
Then she said something that made my entire body freeze.
“She asked me if you knew about Seattle.”
I looked toward the bedroom.
Toward Ethan.
Sleeping peacefully.
Unaware.
“Sarah…”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I stood up.
“No, tell me exactly what she said.”
Sarah hesitated.
“She said, ‘Victoria deserves to know what happened five weeks ago.’”
Five weeks ago.
Seattle.
The same place.
The same time.
The same missing piece.
I ended the call.
Slowly.
My hands were shaking now.
Not from fear.
From anger.
Because this was no longer just a random message.
This was a planned attack.
Someone had waited.
Someone had prepared.
Someone wanted me to find something.
I walked back into the bedroom.
Ethan was still asleep.
The man who had held me while promising forever.
The man who had smiled at me while knowing his past might return.
I stood beside the bed.
I wanted to wake him.
I wanted to ask him everything.
But then I remembered something.
People rarely tell the truth when they are prepared for the question.
They tell the truth when they believe they have no choice.
So instead, I waited.
I watched him.
And I noticed something I had never paid attention to before.
His phone.
The second phone.
Not the one on the nightstand.
The one inside his jacket pocket hanging over the chair.
My heart stopped.
Because I knew Ethan.
He never carried two phones.
Never.
I walked toward the chair.
Slowly.
Every step felt louder than it should.
I reached into his jacket pocket.
My fingers touched cold glass.
A phone.
Not his usual phone.
A second phone.
I pulled it out.
The screen was already unlocked.
There was one notification waiting.
One name.
May you like
One message.
And when I saw who it was from, I realized Chloe wasn’t the only person from Ethan’s past trying to reach him…
