I Stopped Stalking My Cheating Husband, Then He Lost His Mind

All because the little side piece Sebastian Cross kept around said she didn't like how condoms felt, he went and booked a vasectomy that same night. Before the anesthesia, he unlocked his phone in front of me for the first time. "Password's 010208. Look through whatever you want." "But once I'm out of surgery, the divorce papers get delivered to you." Then he put in his Bluetooth earbuds, and when he spoke again, his voice went soft. "Hey, don't worry. Just a tiny procedure." "You know all the bank codes and the safe codes. While I'm under, if anyone gives you trouble, that money's your safety net." When he said "anyone," he glanced at me. Just a little. Just enough. Three years ago, when I first found out Sebastian was cheating, I went completely off the rails trying to find the other woman. Following him. Taking pictures. All of it. But other than the tuition he wired to Wharton every semester, he didn't let me find a thing. When I didn't say anything, Sebastian got impatient. "Nadia, it's been three years. Aren't you tired? 'Cause I'm tired." "When I wake up, can you just let me go?" The nurses started rushing him for pre-op, and I quietly took the phone he was holding out. He didn't know that the car crash he'd set up two weeks ago—just to punish me for finding his mistress's address— hadn't just landed me in the ICU for seven days. It had killed our only child. Turns out I wasn't the only one tired of this cat-and-mouse game. ... When he saw I'd actually started calling lawyers, Sebastian's eyes went dark. He turned to his assistant right away. "Put another team on Nadia. I want eyes on her every move." "And take her off her duties as Executive Vice President. Temporary suspension." His eyes went cold. "Pretending to back off so you can get what you want won't work on me." "Don't think I don't know what you're up to. Some people aren't yours to touch." A nurse came over with the surgical checklist. "Mr. Cross, just need one last confirmation before surgery." "What's your fasting window?" He frowned. Before he could answer— I did. "Eight hours no food, three hours no liquids." "Any drug allergies?" "Penicillin. Broke out in a rash once." The nurse ran through a few more questions. Back and forth, one after another—and the whole time, Sebastian just stared at me. That dark, unreadable stare. "Mr. Cross, your wife really cares about your health. You two are so sweet." "Wife?" He laughed. Not a nice laugh. "She won't be for long." "Even if she's got every detail of my life memorized, it doesn't change anything." There was a time I would've lost my mind demanding to know what that little bitch had that I didn't. But now? I just sat there. Didn't say a word. A few minutes later, the surgical light flicked on. I pulled myself together and grabbed the bag in the corner. My change of clothes. My toiletries. When I lifted it, it felt way lighter than it should've. I opened it. Empty. The assistant came over with this awkward little smile. "Mrs. Cross, Mr. Cross told us to toss everything in the bag." "He was worried you might...bring something you shouldn't into the hospital." I let go of the bag. And honestly? It was almost funny. How paranoid did he have to be to search through a couple of shirts? Did he seriously not trust me at all? I took a breath, threw the bag in the trash, and tossed Sebastian's phone in right after it. I was barely out the hospital doors when my best friend Sienna Walsh called. "Okay, Nadia, spill. I heard Sebastian actually handed over his phone. Like, voluntarily." "Three years of hiding and he finally grew a conscience?" I was beat. "He just got tired of pretending." She went quiet for a sec. "So... we still digging? Clarity Sinclair should be back from London by now." Clarity was the girl Sebastian had been keeping under wraps for three years. Finance major at Wharton. He shipped her off to the London campus for two years during her master's. Now she was back in New York, about to start an internship at Cross Industries. He thought he was so smooth. But I'd already found plenty. For three years, all I'd done was prove it to myself over and over—Sebastian didn't love me anymore. But this time? I didn't have it in me to keep dragging it out. "No more digging." This time, I wasn't going to find the other woman. I was going to disappear from Sebastian's life before he realized I was gone.

The second I got back to the townhouse, I could hear voices inside. Loud ones. "Clarity, this is your fiancé's place? Oh my God, it's huge! It's gorgeous!" "No wonder Clarity gave up that job in London to come back to New York. Who wouldn't wanna marry into a family like this!" My chest tightened. I reached for the door. But the lock let out this weird warning beep. I tried again. This time, the door opened from the inside. The girl standing in front of me was head-to-toe in this season's latest. Every piece put together just so. A single hair clip probably cost a few grand. A girl raised on Sebastian's money and attention. Yeah, she had presence. I'll give her that. Clarity's friend was the first to frown. "Clarity, is this your housekeeper? Why's she making that face?" "She reeks of disinfectant. I'm gonna throw up." Clarity didn't bother explaining. She just covered her mouth and smiled. My voice was cold. "The divorce hasn't even been finalized yet, and you're already moving in as lady of the house?" "Get out. Now. Or I'm calling the cops." I was just pulling out my phone— Clarity clapped her hands. A bodyguard snatched my phone and shoved me back, pinning me in place. Some of them were the same guys I'd once hired to investigate Sebastian. "Nadia, you're kidding, right?" "The door lock already gave you your answer, didn't it?" Clarity walked up and grabbed my hand, pressing it against the fingerprint scanner again. The warning beep echoed through the whole house. "Whoever gets in—that's the owner." I clenched my fists. "I bought this townhouse with Sebastian. My name's still on the deed." "You think wiping my fingerprint is gonna make this place yours?" The second the words left my mouth, Clarity's smile got wider. She told the housekeeper to bring over the property papers. Opened them up. The name on the deed? Already changed to Clarity Sinclair. "I liked this house, so Sebastian transferred it to me." "Nadia, you're the one trespassing now." My chest seized. Half a year ago, Sebastian brought over some company filing documents—and tucked inside were a few blank signature pages. I didn't think much of it at the time. Just signed. Turns out, even back then, he'd already decided to erase me from his world completely. The people around her started chiming in. "Housekeepers these days, huh? Just gonna walk in and claim the house is theirs!" "Of all the people she could've crossed, she chose Mr. Cross's fiancée. She brought this humiliation on herself." I looked around. That's when I noticed—every piece of furniture had been replaced. I shoved the bodyguard off me and ran up to the master bedroom on the second floor. Glass shards sliced into my foot the second I stepped in. The ultrasound from before the crash—ripped out of its frame, torn to pieces, scattered across the broken glass on the floor. "I didn't really like that piece of paper, so I had the housekeeper take care of it." "But looking at the date—the baby was only two months, right?" She let out this sweet little laugh. "Too bad. Now the last trace of your baby in this world is gone..." My eyes burned. I raised my hand to slap her. A team of uniformed officers appeared in front of me. "Nadia Graves, someone reported you for unlawful entry. You need to come with us." Then Sebastian stepped through the doorway—still wearing his hospital gown beneath his coat.

Before I could even react, Sebastian was already there, stepping in front of Clarity, shielding her. "Nadia, didn't I tell you—don't touch what isn't yours." His eyes were razor-sharp on me. But his face looked a little worn. He'd come straight back before the anesthesia had even fully worn off—just to keep me from hurting Clarity. Two years ago, when I was hospitalized after a miscarriage from overworking myself, Sebastian's only response over the phone was a flat: "Take your rest, then get back to your post as soon as you can." He'd even docked my pay for the two days I took off to recover. The second Clarity saw Sebastian, her eyes welled up. Seeing her tear up, Sebastian glanced at the shattered glass on the floor, and his face went dark. He turned to the officer in charge. "Nadia Graves tried to harm my fiancée. I want to press charges for attempted assault." I tasted blood at the back of my throat. I didn't even get a chance to explain before I was dragged out of there. The second I stepped outside, dozens of cameras with flashing lights were shoved right in my face. "Is it true that you've been stalking and investigating Mr. Cross for three years?" "They say you tried to hurt his fiancée while he was in surgery. Care to respond?" I was shoved around so hard I could barely stand. A camera corner caught my forehead, leaving a few bloody scratches. When Sebastian came downstairs and saw the scene, he frowned. His eyes flicked to the cuts on my forehead. Lingered for a beat. I thought he'd stop them. But he just stepped forward and said, low and even: "This is a family matter. No need for any of you to concern yourselves." It looked like he was helping me out. But really, he'd just confirmed every question those reporters had asked. Beside him, Clarity put on her victim face—but a laugh slipped out of her throat. She couldn't even hide it. The last bit of hope I had left? Gone. Just like that. At the station, Sebastian looked down at me. "Apologize to Clarity." "And if I don't?" His voice went cold. "Then I'll pursue charges for trespassing." I let out a bitter laugh and closed my eyes. We'd known each other since we were kids. I was the one who helped him build everything from nothing. When we bought that townhouse, Sebastian was so happy he scooped me up and spun me around the garden. He said I'd be the lady of this house forever. He said he'd always be good to me. Turns out "forever" has a pretty short shelf life. When I didn't say anything, Sebastian frowned and opened his mouth to speak. Clarity cut in, eyes red. "Just let it go. I mean, I was scared, but Nadia's just jealous..." Sebastian's face went dark. "Apologize to Clarity." "If you still want your father resting comfortably in that hospital." My mind went blank. My father had been paralyzed from a stroke for three years, living in a private room at Mount Sinai—funded by the Cross family. I used to think that was proof of his love for me. Now it was just a leash he could yank whenever he wanted. I looked at him. And suddenly, I didn't have it in me to argue anymore. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have barged into your home. I shouldn't have bothered your fiancée. Is that enough?" Sebastian's frown only deepened. He went quiet for two seconds. Then he pulled out a divorce agreement. "As long as you stop harassing Clarity, you'll get your fair share of the assets. Every penny." When he handed it over, his fingers pinched the edge of the page. Like he was hesitating. "As for your position at the company—I've already had Clarity take over." "Young people pick things up fast. She's adapting well." My hand paused as I reached for the document. I was the one who'd been by his side, building Cross Industries from the ground up. His health was bad, so I forced myself to learn how to network, make small talk, and represent him at every charity gala and investor reception. During the busiest stretch, I didn't even go home. I slept on the office couch for over a month. And now? He'd forgotten all of it. The bitter Manhattan winter wind cut right through me. I breathed out a cloud of white. Under Sebastian's gaze, I signed. Watching me put pen to paper so easily, there was a tightness in his voice. Barely noticeable. "You don't need to go over the asset split a few more times?" I smiled. "I want the townhouse. Would you be willing to give it to me?" Sebastian went quiet for a moment. "Anything but that one." He said it with his eyes on the document. Not on me. I opened my mouth. Then I thought— Forget it. It's just a house. If I don't get it, I don't get it. Besides, I don't want him either.