One Lipstick, Nine Lies, Zero People On My Side Chapter 01

One Lipstick, Nine Lies, Zero People On My Side Chapter 01

The first time I found a necklace in my fiancé’s car, his mother called me herself.

“Sabine, you’ve got it all wrong. I left it there by accident.”

The second time, it was two movie-ticket receipts.

One of Stellan’s friends tagged me in our group chat.

[Don’t read into it. I asked Stellan to pick up the tickets for me.]

The third time, the fourth time—every single time after that—someone stepped forward with an explanation.

By the ninth, I knew exactly what to expect.

I pulled a tube of lipstick from between the passenger seat and the center console and held it up.

“Whose is this?”

Stellan’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. The movement was slight, but I caught it.

Without missing a beat, he started a group call.

“Did either of you leave lipstick in my car?”

My brother answered first.

“Stellan? So that’s where Iona’s lipstick went. She’s been looking everywhere for it.”

Then his voice hardened.

“Sabine, are you seriously doing this again? We all told you at dinner. If you keep accusing him every time you find something, maybe you two shouldn’t get married.”

Iona jumped in immediately.

“He’s been nothing but good to you, Sabine. You’ve taken this way too far.”

The call ended.

Stellan turned to me with the calm, wounded expression he had perfected over the past few months.

“Well? Are you done accusing me now?”

“This is the ninth time, Sabine. If you pull something like this again, maybe we should reconsider the wedding.”

I smiled and cut him off.

“No need. I already canceled it.”

What Stellan didn’t know was that the lipstick belonged to neither his mistress nor Iona.

It was mine.

I had bought it that morning and planted it in his car to see who would lie for him.

Now I had my answer.

Every single one of them.

“I canceled the venue, the caterer, and the reception,” I said. “You can notify your side of the guest list.”

Stellan slammed on the brakes.

My seat belt locked against my chest.

“You’re serious?” He turned to me, his face darkening. “You don’t even trust your own brother and your best friend now?”

His voice grew colder with every word.

“Maybe you really should talk to someone. This isn’t how a healthy relationship works.”

“If you won’t believe your own family, what exactly am I supposed to do to prove I’m innocent?”

“And if there’s no trust between us, what’s the point of getting married?”

His phone rang before I could answer.

The second he saw the name on the screen, the anger disappeared from his face. His eyes softened.

“I have somewhere to be.”

He unlocked the doors.

“Go home and get yourself together. I’ll pretend this never happened.”

Then he drove off in his black Mercedes, leaving me on the side of the road.

I should have let him go.

Instead, I flagged down a cab and followed the location of his car through the tracking app we shared.

Half an hour later, the dot stopped at a waterfront restaurant called Harborwake House.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw a private newborn welcome brunch in full swing.

The room was crowded with familiar faces.

Then I saw the woman at the center of it all.

The pearl necklace around her throat was the same one I had found in Stellan’s car the first time.

The hair tie looped around her ponytail was the one I had pulled from his coat pocket months ago.

When she turned her head, what little composure I had left shattered.

Leonie Strathmore.

A month earlier, blood had briefly backed into her IV tubing during a postoperative line check. It was a minor issue, corrected within seconds, but her family had accused me of abusing a patient and filed a formal complaint with Aureline University Medical Center.

During the confrontation, one of their private security guards shoved me to the floor.

My right wrist had fractured on impact.

The hospital placed me on administrative leave while risk management investigated.

And now my brother—the lawyer who had spent weeks helping me respond to the complaint—was standing beside Leonie, greeting her guests as if he belonged there.

Iona, who had argued with hospital administrators on my behalf and stayed up all night helping me prepare my appeal, was moving through the room like a hostess.

Then Stellan walked in, the man who had spent the past hour insisting he was innocent.

One of the guests called out, “You’re late, Stellan. You’d better make it up to your wife.”

The room erupted in laughter.

Stellan crossed the room, wrapped an arm around Leonie’s waist, and kissed her.

Everyone cheered.

I stood outside the glass, watching the people I trusted celebrate a life they had all helped him hide from me.

So this was Leonie’s family.

They were the ones who had turned a minor hospital incident into a formal investigation.

They were the reason my wrist was broken and my career had been put on hold.

Heat rushed across my face, sharp and humiliating.

So this was what it felt like to realize everyone you loved had been laughing behind your back.

My phone vibrated.

A notification from Aureline Health Network appeared on the screen.

[Dr. Hollowell, your transfer request has been approved. Please report to Kestrel Point Medical Center in three days.]

I stared at the message.

Then I almost laughed.

Good.

There was nothing left for me in Aureline Harbor anyway.

In three days, I would leave the city.

And whatever remained between Stellan and me would end with it.

I turned away, unable to look at the scene inside for another second.

Behind me, the restaurant door opened.

“Dr. Hollowell?”

Leonie hurried outside, smiling as though we were old friends.

“Did you come for our baby’s welcome brunch?”