ManyWriters

As the holiday season neared, my usual beauty salon was fully booked. The staff inquired if I'd be willing to share a room, and I agreed, thinking it wouldn't be an issue.
My roommate turned out to be a young woman who seemed vaguely familiar.
At checkout, the woman's card was declined. "Honey, my beauty card is empty," she cooed into her phone.
"Sweetheart, hold on. I'll send you some money now. Is 20,000 enough?" A doting male voice responded, sounding eerily like my spouse, Dexter Keaton.
I laughed internally, believing I was being paranoid, when my phone alerted me: [20,000 withdrawn from my account.] Suddenly, I felt as if I'd plunged into a frozen lake, chilled to the bone.

Married for a Decade, Betrayed in a Beauty Salon

As I entered, Dexter greeted me enthusiastically, offering my slippers and announcing dinner's readiness. His demeanor was so casual, as if our recent issues had never occurred.


"I've already dined. Now, what will it take for you to accept the divorce?" I addressed Dexter, my gaze icy and distant.


"Divorce isn't an option. Darling, Scarlett set me up. You can't just believe her version and judge me. We've shared a decade together. You should know my love for you. How can you trust her over me?" Dexter's expression was earnest, as though I had genuinely misjudged him.


Had I not seen their message exchanges or observed their subtle interactions at dinner, I might have fallen for his act.


Dexter was truly a talented performer; it was unfortunate he wasn't in show business.


I suspected he was confident in my lack of solid proof, hence his persistent denials.


8#08