My wife and I were deeply in love. Aside from a noticeable chill in our intimacy, everything else was perfect. Until one day, I saw search terms she hadn’t bothered to delete. “How to fake interest in your husband?” “What excuses to use to refuse sex with your husband?” “Can’t stand husband’s closeness, what to do if you feel sick?” Lately, I’d been constantly wondering if Izzy was seeing someone else. But no matter if I checked her phone or hired someone to keep an eye on her, I couldn’t find any solid proof. My wife, Isabelle Sterling, was a total knockout – classic beauty, long legs, tall, and eyes that could melt anyone. Even in her everyday work suits, you could see her stunning figure. Before we got married, every time we were alone, I’d have trouble controlling myself. After we got married, I couldn’t wait to spend every night lost in each other. But who would have thought that a natural stunner like her could be so cold in the bedroom? She always claimed she was too tired, sometimes not letting me near her for an entire month. I used to be understanding. After all, as a CEO, she was under a lot of pressure, and as a freelancer, it was my job to be considerate. But a while ago, I found a hotel room receipt in her purse.
Izzy traveled a lot for work. These receipts should have been submitted to accounting for reimbursement. But she was holding onto it herself, which could only mean it was for personal use and couldn’t be shown openly. I casually asked her, “Hey, babe, were you at The Grandview Hotel last Friday? A friend said they thought they saw you.” “No way. All my recent meetings have been at The Stellar Inn. If you saw me there, that’s possible.” Her voice was soft and gentle. I used to joke that she sounded like she was flirting, not negotiating. Now, I realized lying and flirting had something in common – they both made it hard to tell what was real! The receipt wasn’t from The Stellar Inn or The Grandview. I checked the map and found it was from a cheap, no-name motel right across from The Grandview! She was always incredibly particular about her lifestyle, so why would she book a room at a place like that? And why lie about it? This bothered me for ages. Still unsettled, I quietly checked her call logs and social media, but came up empty. She seemed to have zero interest in men, with almost no male friends outside of work contacts. Those two receipts were like a splinter, digging deep into my heart. Finally, I made up my mind and dialed her assistant, Chloe Jenkins. I didn’t even know how to start, but she brought it up herself. “Leo, did you happen to find two hotel receipts at home? A couple of times, both The Grandview and The Stellar Inn were full, so I put the driver up somewhere else, but I can’t find two of those receipts for reimbursement.” Oh, so that was it! I quickly had someone deliver them to her. I trusted Chloe. She was someone I’d personally put on Izzy’s team, and her loyalty was unquestionable.
Another day, Izzy came home very late. The moment she walked in, she headed straight for the bathroom. My heart ached for how much she sacrificed for us, so I went to the kitchen to cook her some noodles. As I turned, I saw her phone sitting on the table. Izzy had never kept secrets from me. Our passwords were each other’s birthdays, for crying out loud, but I rarely looked at her phone. Suddenly, I remembered we’d just switched internet providers and I hadn’t connected her phone or laptop yet. After a few taps, I was about to turn off the screen when I saw a notification pop up: “Learn these tricks to make your husband think he’s your soulmate.” I almost laughed. Izzy and I were already so in love. She always said I was her first love, her only man. Why would she need tips on that? I was about to swipe it away, but accidentally tapped the page instead. The search questions at the top were: “How to fake interest in your husband?” “What excuses to use to refuse sex with your husband?” “Can’t stand husband’s closeness, what to do if you feel sick?” The steam rising from the pot blurred my vision, making the words on the screen harder to see. “Why are you holding my phone?” Izzy came out in her pajamas, a modest and reserved style that covered her from her neck to her calves. I’d always thought she was a traditional woman, maybe that’s how she felt secure. “Our internet contract expired. We got a new one, just updating your password.” I calmly handed her the phone back. “Don’t touch my phone without my permission! I don’t snoop through yours. Didn’t we agree on having our own space?” She ate her noodles, bite by bite. I watched her for a long time, my expression unreadable. Inside, I was seething, wanting to confront her, but also scoffing. She was such a good actress, playing it off like nothing happened. “Babe, we haven’t been intimate in ages. I want to…” “I’m too tired today! I need to rest. Maybe another time?” She firmly pressed down on my hand, stopping me from moving. “Izzy, you’re just too beautiful. I can’t help myself.” I leaned down to find her lips. Remembering my earlier suspicions, I pressed my mouth harder against hers. “Honey, my stomach hurts!” Her soft, sweet whine instantly made my heart ache. But looking into her clear eyes, devoid of any lust, I knew it was just another excuse.
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