Stacey's POV:

"Okay, that's it for today," I concluded, and the students immediately got up to leave. "Remember that this assignment accounts for twenty percent of your total grade, so you better research your topic carefully." I called out to the impatient figures as they scurried out the door.

I smiled to myself as I heard them groan in reply. I wasn't the type of Professor who reveled in overworking students, but these were third-year college students, and I had to make sure they were fully prepared for their final English exams.

I picked up my laptop and was about to exit the lecture hall when a voice stopped me. "I enjoyed your class as always, Mrs. Smith."

I turned to see the warmest shade of brown orbs staring back at me. The tall man had on a white collar shirt that perfectly complemented his smooth dark skin and flaunted his muscular biceps.

"I'm happy to hear that, Noah." I gave him a warm smile.

His eyes lingered on my features, trailing down from my eyes to my lips and then to my chest, where his gaze remained fixed. I followed his eyes to see a small part of my cleavage exposed as a result of the unhooked button at the top of my blouse.

I quickly adjusted the material and covered up the open skin, but Noah's focus remained unwavering.

I shifted uncomfortably and cleared my throat. "Noah?"

His body flinched, as if I just broke him out of a trance. His focus darted back to my eyes, and his usual demeanor returned. "See you next class, Mrs." He rushed out the words and quickly jabbed out the hall.

That was...unusual.

Noah was the most popular boy and the star basketball player of the school. The school took pride in the recognition the basketball team had given them, and as a result, Noah and his teammates were treated like mini gods.

They only took basic general courses and were freely allowed to miss most of their classes to focus on training. Lecturers had no power against them, so we just learned to let them be. But Noah was different from the others.

Even though he was the star player, he never missed any of my classes. And I don't know if it was in my head, but most times I could feel him staring at me so intently in class that my neck grew hot.

I shook my head, trying to physically dispel my thoughts of a twenty-year-old college student for any reason watching his thirty-two-year-old professor. I walked out of the lecture hall to where my car was parked and started the car's engine, heading for home.

When I got home, the sunset had already painted the skyline a pale tint of golden orange. My body ached, and all I wanted to do was run a cold shower and head to bed.

As I reached the stairs, I heard strange noises coming from somewhere upstairs. I paused to listen. "Who could that be?"

Liam had told me he would be going on a two-day business trip this morning, and he assured me he would be dropping off Tessa, our daughter, at his mother's place because I wouldn't be home. The college was supposed to host a day-long conference, but it ended up getting canceled. So that meant there wasn't supposed to be anyone at home.

It must be that a burglar broke in. You will need to get something to defend yourself.

Yes! I searched around where I stood for something I could weaponize. My best option was the ceramic flower vase propped up by my side. I wrapped my hands firmly against the body and made my way up the stairs.

Someone is definitely ending up getting very hurt today.

I traced the sound up to our bedroom door. Now that I was closer, I could hear the sound more clearly. It wasn't just any sound; it was moaning. It actually sounded like the people at the other end of the door were making out.

Anger surged to my head. How could you break into someone's house and have sex in the person's bedroom? You had to be...

"Fuck me, Liam." The muffled voice of a woman at the other end drew me out of my thoughts.

Was I hearing things, or did that woman just say my husband's name?

You definitely heard right. She did.

No! No!! I must have misheard.

I pushed open the room's door with full force, propelled by the conviction to prove myself wrong. But when the door swung open, my eyes widened in shock at the sight I saw displayed before me.

Right there on our matrimonial bed lay Liam, and on top of him was Agatha, her naked boobs and ass on full display as she was riding my husband.

They both turned around to face me simultaneously. Liam's face morphed into fear, like that of a child who was caught being naughty, but Agatha's expression remained firm, smug even, as she rolled away from Liam's waist and covered herself with the blue duvet.

What...is going on here?" I stammered, my mouth quivering with each word.

Do you still have to ask? It's plain as day that he's cheating on you. AGAIN!

About two years ago, I found some romantic messages on Liam's phone between him and some woman. When I confronted him about it, he confessed to having an emotional entanglement with the woman but swore they only texted and never did anything physical. He promised to stop, and he did. Or so I thought.

"Stacey," he called me by my name, not 'darling' or 'honey' like he usually does. "I can explain."

"Oh please, there's nothing to explain." Agatha sharply interjected. She looked at me, eyeing me up and down, like I was covered in filth, before turning back to face Liam. "Will you tell her about it or should I?"

Tell me about what? What the hell was this woman even talking about? And why does she look so confident?

I didn't allow myself anytime to mull over the questions popping in my head. I was appalled at how unbothered Agatha looked and her audacity to tell my own husband to divorce me even when she was the one caught having an illicit affair.

Her effrontery made me go into a spiral rage, and I rushed to where she sat on the King-sized bed.

Before Agatha could react, I grabbed her by her hair and pulled her up from the bed, dragging her towards the door.

"Let me go," she screamed as she tried to fight back, but my grip only tightened around her wavy brown curls. "I'll let you go as soon as you're out my door." I retorted.

I was only a few inches away from the doorknob when I felt a sharp burning sting across my cheeks. "Let her go right now." Liam demanded as he pulled Agatha away from my grip.

I blinked hot tears, and my hand reflexively cupped the side of my cheek where Liam slapped me. I looked at him through blurry eyes. "You slapped me because of this homewrecker?"

His jaw tensed, and his eyes turned cold. "Call her that again, and this time it won't just be a slap you'd be receiving."

I couldn't believe my ears. Liam had never spoken to me like this before, much less raised his hand to hit me. And now, he was threatening to do even worse, all because of Agatha, my surrogate.

Agatha was my surrogate for birthing Tessa. Four years ago, Liam and I were involved in an accident as a result of Liam's drunk driving. In the heat of the moment, I had taken control of the car and managed to swerve off the road just before we got hit by an incoming truck, but in the process, our car collided with a tree.

Because I wasn't wearing a seatbelt, there was a strong impact of the dashboard against my lower abdomen that caused damage to my uterus, and as a result, the doctors said I won't be able to carry my own child.

Liam and I tried for more than a year, but the pregnancies always ended in miscarriages. The emotional and psychological turmoil got too much, and we decided to go for a surrogate instead.

It's been three years since Agatha helped carry my little Tessa in her womb. The agreement was for both parties to never meet up again after Agatha gave birth. When she did, we paid her, and we all went our separate ways, satisfied. So I was genuinely confused as to what she was now doing back here.

After three years, why was my surrogate here? Naked on my matrimonial bed with my husband by her side?

"Tell her, babe," Agatha nudged Liam's shoulder, prompting him to spill the words she had been itching to hear.

Liam faced me, his eyes still cold, but with a renewed vigor. "Stacey, Agatha is pregnant for me. She'd be having a son like I always wanted, so let's get a divorce."

Blood drained from my body, and my legs buckled under my weight as I staggered backward, almost falling. I stare at the man I've been married to for the last six years of my life, dumbfounded by every single word of his last sentence.

"What?"