I Was The Wrong Girl In His Bed For Three Years Chapter 10

I Was The Wrong Girl In His Bed For Three Years Chapter 10

Graham didn’t stop me.

So that was it. Our marriage was over.

I checked into the Lakecrest Hotel. Alone.

The room was massive. The bed was soft.

I couldn’t sleep.

Whenever I woke up in the middle of the night, I’d roll over and find Graham.

He was so warm. All that height, all that heat.

Even in his sleep, he’d pull me closer.

Now the other side of the bed was cold.

I hugged the pillow instead, and the tears just came.

Nobody tells you that leaving someone doesn’t make the pain stop.

It felt like something had been ripped out of me, raw and jagged and still bleeding.

Every heartbeat hurt.

A few days later, someone put together a college reunion.

I didn’t want to go.

But Tessa was worried I’d spiral sitting in that hotel room by myself, so she dragged me out.

Then something came up at the last minute, and she had to get there late.

The second I walked into the private dining room, I saw Sloane.

She was sitting right in the center of the table.

She spotted me and froze for a beat, then smiled and waved.

“Maren, it’s been forever since we’ve hung out like this.”

One of the girls nudged her.

“Weren’t you two like best friends?”

Sloane’s smile dimmed.

“Yeah.”

“But once Maren married Graham, I didn’t want to make things weird. So I backed off.”

The table went quiet.

And just like that, everyone was talking about the old days, and then how she used to talk to Graham

online.

“Wait, didn’t Sloane meet Mr. Sterling first?”

“God, Sloane was glued to her phone back then. Smiling at it every day. She kept saying the guy she was talking to had an ulcer and wouldn’t take his medicine unless she nagged him.”

“We used to joke about it. Of course a billionaire CEO has an ulcer. That’s how you know he’s the

real deal.”

Sloane laughed softly.

“Mm.”

“He was so quiet. Never said much.”

“That’s why I was always the one drawing him out.”

I gripped my wineglass. The room felt like it was closing in.

So all those things about Graham.

That silence I could never figure out.

Sloane had known all of it before I ever came along.

The comments appeared.

[You see this? THIS is what the real girlfriend looks like.]

[Three years of marriage and she still knows less about Graham than Sloane learned through a

phone screen.]

[One of them had the face. The other had the connection. No contest.]

I looked down and drank.

That’s when someone spotted the necklace.

“Oh my God, that pink diamond is huge. Is that a heart cut?”

“Isn’t that the one Mr. Sterling bought at the charity auction last month?”

My head snapped up.

I’d seen that necklace in a catalog.

I’d leaned into Graham and told him…

“It’s beautiful.”

We’d just been together.

His arm was around my waist, his fingers still in my hair. He didn’t say a word.

Now that heart-shaped pink diamond was sitting on someone else’s throat.

Sloane touched the stone and gave a small, sheepish smile.

“I told him I didn’t want it, but he insisted.”

The room went dead silent.

Every pair of eyes in the room drifted my way.

Someone murmured.

“He mistook Maren for someone else back then, didn’t he?”

“Now that the real one is back…”

“Honestly, Maren’s whole situation is kind of… awkward.”

The comments continued.

[A fake is always a fake. She stole someone else’s man for three years and now karma’s finally

catching up.]

[The man, the gifts, all of it should’ve been Sloane’s from the start.]

[I literally can’t watch. If I were her, I’d crawl under the table and die. How does she still have the

nerve to sit there?]

My chest seized.

But then I smiled.

I stood up, walked straight to Sloane, and ripped the necklace off her neck.

Sloane screamed.

“Maren, what are you doing?!”

Everyone froze.

I squeezed the necklace in my fist until the diamonds dug into my skin.

“Sloane, I’m not divorced yet.”

I looked her dead in the eye.

“I don’t care what you two had before.”

“Right now, I’m Graham’s wife.”

“Which means, legally speaking…”

I held up the necklace.

“Anything my husband gives you is marital property.”

“And as for what you are…’

“No matter how you spin it, you’re just a homewrecker. Aren’t you?”