The Midnight Show That Ended with My Husband’s Affair Chapter 05

The Midnight Show That Ended with My Husband’s Affair Chapter 05 Payment Failed
I don’t know how I made it out of the hospital. In the subzero cold, I was wearing nothing but a thin cashmere sweater. I tried to call a cab. But as I shivered and opened the ride-share app, a cold message flashed on the screen: Payment Failed. I froze. With trembling fingers, I opened my banking app. All four of my cards. Every single one showed a hold. In this city, there was only one person with that kind of reach. My husband of seven years. Spencer Whitmore. I put away my phone. I didn’t cry. I gritted my teeth, walked straight into the heavy snow, and made my way home step by step. The moment I pushed open the door, that familiar scent hit me. But what I had once loved now turned my stomach. I nearly gagged. That was when I saw him. Spencer sat on the main sofa, upright. Across from him sat two strangers in suits, both lawyers. On the coffee table, a digital recorder sat with its red light on. Hearing the door, Spencer looked up. His brow was deeply furrowed. Behind his glasses, his dark eyes held not a trace of concern. “Lena, if you think showing up disheveled will stop a legal proceeding, save your energy.” He tapped a stack of papers on the table with his long fingers. “Your accounts were frozen by court order—asset preservation. I applied for it as Summer’s counsel.” I gripped the shoe cabinet in the foyer, my nails digging into the wood. That sharp pain was the only thing keeping me upright. “Why?” “Because you’re not just accused of cyberbullying. You also removed key evidence.” Spencer stood, looking down at me. “The station manager told me you copied last night’s call recording this morning. Lena, that recording captures Summer’s laughter—laughter you allegedly induced by manipulating her. If that clip gets out, the mob will tear her apart.” He held out his hand. No warmth of a husband. Not even a pretense. “Hand it over.” “Until the defamation case is closed, all your assets are frozen to prevent you from hiring trolls to harm Summer further.” How pathetic. This was my husband. The man who once taught me that love was the highest principle. Now, to protect another woman, he had shattered my career and cut off my escape. “Spencer, I just came out of surgery—” I gasped for air. “I have no money, no phone. You froze my cards. Do you want me to die out there?” “You’re lying again.” He laughed coldly. “I checked the hospital records myself. You only had a routine gynecology visit. You ripped out your IV and ran home to put on this act. Lena, you’ve lost all dignity just to pressure me into dropping the case.” His eyes flickered with disappointment. “What happened to the independent, composed woman you used to be? This jealous, desperate version of you sickens me.” I let go of the cabinet. With trembling hands, I pulled the access card to the station’s recording studio from my coat pocket. It was the last thing I had in this house. “The evidence you want is in my desk at the station. Second drawer. The code is your birthday.” I let the card fall. Just then, his phone rang. Spencer glanced at the screen. When he answered, his voice softened. “Summer, don’t be afraid. I’m on my way back to the hospital.” He hung up, grabbed his coat from the back of the sofa, and didn’t spare me another look. At the door, he paused. “I’m staying at the hospital with her tonight. Lena, don’t test my limits again. If Summer suffers one more episode, I promise you’ll lose more than you already have.” He was a man who believed only in evidence. But the one person he refused to believe was me. Because all his trust, all his favor, had been given without reservation to a girl named Summer Vance. Suddenly, I smiled. A smile with no warmth in it. No hysteria. No anger. I was done explaining. Watching his back as he left, I gathered a few things. I placed my signed divorce papers on his desk, took the plane ticket I had already bought, and pulled open the front door one last time. I didn’t look back. I walked into the snowstorm, toward a tomorrow that no longer had Spencer in it.