I Found His Mistress in His Virtual Fitting RoomChapter 1

On our fifth anniversary, I find another woman's body measurements saved in my boyfriend's virtual fitting room.

Ethan Shaw hands me his phone while keeping half an eye on his work.

"Buy whatever you want today," he says. "It's on me."

I smile and take the phone. There's a coat I've been looking at for months.

I open the virtual fitting room to enter my measurements, but a saved model pops up instead.

Five-eight. Size two. Twenty-four-inch waist. Long legs. Narrow shoulders.

Nothing like me.

I'm five-three, plus-size, and a size sixteen.

Then I open the saved outfits and find dozens of them, each with a different style tag underneath.

Elegant. Soft girl. Office siren.

The delivery address is Lena Adams's apartment. Lena is his intern.

I suddenly remember asking Ethan a few days ago what size coat I should buy. He hadn't even looked up from his laptop when he'd answered.

"Just get the oversized one. Those always look comfortable on you."

I understand now.

He doesn't hate picking out clothes. He just hates doing it for me.

Ethan comes out of the kitchen with a glass of water and sets it beside me. Then he stands behind the couch and massages the tight spot between my neck and shoulder.

"Did you choose something?" he asks. "Why isn't anything in the cart?"

I lock the screen and hand the phone back to him.

"I'm done."

I order a thirty-inch black suitcase, big enough to hold everything I have left in his apartment.

Ethan takes the phone without checking what I bought, then walks away.

The suitcase arrives the next day.

The black shell stands in the entryway, almost reaching my waist.

I drag it into the bedroom, open the closet, and stare at Ethan's custom navy suit hanging in the center.

Beside it is a camel trench coat, the kind that wouldn't even close around my hips.

Inside the collar, a tiny hand-stitched monogram reads: LA.

My clothes are shoved into the far corner, with my work shirts and dresses pressed so tightly together that the fabric is deeply wrinkled.

But Lena's trench hangs beside Ethan's suit, neat and untouched.

They look like a pair.

A dry-cleaning receipt is clipped to the hanger. The name on it is Ethan Shaw, and the note says: Delicate fabric. Hand wash only.

He tells me to throw my coats in the washing machine.

My phone lights up with a video call. Ethan appears on-screen, sitting in his office with his tie loosened.

"Why aren't you wearing your glasses?" he asks. "Headache again?"

His face tightens with concern.

"Your medicine is in the second drawer of the nightstand. Take it and sleep for a while. I'll pick you up tonight."

Before I can answer, a bank notification appears across the top of my screen.

Transfer from Ethan Shaw: $7,000.

"There's a company celebration dinner tonight," he says gently. "Pick some nice jewelry. But don't wear anything too flashy. Keep it simple."

I hold the dry-cleaning receipt between my fingers and say nothing.

Ethan smiles.

"A few new interns will be there today. Lena is fresh out of college. She's shy."

"You walk into a room and people notice. If you dress too much, she'll feel like she can't even lift her head."

His voice remains soft.

"Be good. Let her have her moment."

From somewhere off camera, Lena's voice floats in.

"Ethan, the dress is here, but the waist is a little big."

Ethan turns his head.

"Don't take the tags off yet," he says patiently. "I'll have the brand send one size down. Try both."

Then he looks back at me.

"Good girl. Wait for me tonight."

I don't want to speak, so I just nod.

His expression relaxes.

"That's what I love most about you," he says. "You understand me. You don't make things hard."

The call ends.

I send the $7,000 back.

The transfer offer from the Atlanta headquarters is still sitting in my inbox.

Two years ago, they invited me for the first time. Ethan said his company was just getting started and he needed me to stay and help him.

Last year, they asked again. He held me in bed and promised that after the wedding, he would transfer with me.

This time, I click Accept without hesitation.

The reply comes almost immediately.

Director Reed, welcome to the Atlanta headquarters. Please report in five days.

Five days from now is our engagement party.

I turn off the screen.

Then I reach into the closet and take down my wrinkled clothes one by one.