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I saw my husband spike my drink on our anniversary, so i did what had to be done. Don't judge me.
27th Jul, 2025 Views 26
The crystal clink of glasses rang beneath a canopy of candlelight and low jazz, the kind that smoothed the edges of an evening. Laughter curled around the scent of roses and wind-kissed lake air. Julian leaned in, his eyes warm and practiced, and slid something into my champagne.
He thought I didn't see, thought I'd smile like I always did and drink it down. But I picked up the wrong glass on purpose and handed it with a delicate smile to the woman he introduced as an old colleague. She smiled back bright and gracious. Tonight someone would taste betrayal, but it wouldn't be me. They always say revenge is a dish best served cold. Mine came effervescent and golden in a flute he thought I'd raise to my lips.
My name is Mara Lin. I'm 41, a corporate strategist from Avalon Bay. For most of our 18-year marriage, I thought I'd chosen the right partner. Julian was the man who could sell snow in a blizzard. Charismatic, sharp, magnetic. He built a biotech empire from the bones of nothing and built our life alongside it. But men who build things learn how to hide things, too. We had a daughter, Laya.
She's 13 now. Sharp like me, soft like him. We lived in a glasswalled home on a hill. All sweeping views and curated peace. Our lives had a rhythm. Sunday dim sum, beach walks in June, anniversary trips every January to quiet places with hot springs and no signal. This year for our 18th, Julian wanted something elevated.
A rooftop dinner at the Ciss Hotel downtown. private guest list, velvet invitations, champagne pyramids, jazz quartet. He handled every detail. He always handled things. The rooftop shimmerred gold. That night, candles in hurricane glasses, pale orchids, scent of bergamont and lake breeze. It felt like we were walking into a movie. Julian gave a toast. Of course he did.
He always did. People used to call him Julian the gentleman. He had that effect. Warm voice, deep dimples, a smile like you could trust him with your last breath. He spoke of endurance, of love through layoffs, parenthood, even a power outage on our first date. He raised his glass and winked at me like he still meant it.
I smiled back, but somewhere behind that smile, I felt it. A pause too long, a glance too precise. The woman next to him was introduced as a nurse he used to work with, Ariel Cade. Blonde, elegant, voice like soft velvet. She greeted me with a hug that lingered half a second too long. Her dress was satin green, tight at the waist, high at the collar.
Her perfume clawed at the air, sweet and sharp like lilacs dying in heat. She stayed close to Julian all night. Too close. I told myself I was imagining it. I told myself, "Don't be petty. Don't ruin this." But I saw how she leaned in when he spoke. How his hand brushed a crumb from her wrist. How they laughed too easily like they were sharing the punchline of a private joke.
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