When my best friend left town for a work trip, she asked me to watch her house. I agreed, not knowing I’d uncover her husband’s betrayal—and his secret plan to take everything from her. But when I told her the truth, she didn’t thank me. She accused me instead.

They said friends were the family you chose. I used to believe that with all my heart. Jessica had been my best friend since college, and even after all these years, we remained close.

We’d laughed, cried, and shared almost everything. But my intuition had never screamed louder than the day I met Mark, Jessica’s husband. Something about him felt wrong.

Cold eyes with a warm smile. Like someone pretending to be kind but hiding something darker underneath. I didn’t like him then. And I liked him even less now.

One day, Jessica and I were sitting on her porch, like we had so many times before.

The air was soft with late spring heat, warm but not heavy, and her cat, Taco, sprawled on the sunlit tiles like royalty, one paw twitching in a dream.

Jessica stirred honey into her tea, slow and quiet. Then she looked up at me with that guilty little smile I knew all too well—the kind she wore when she wanted something but didn’t want to ask.

“I need a favor,” Jessica said. Her voice was soft, like she already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “What kind of favor?”

She avoided my eyes. “I’m flying to New York next week. Big marketing pitch. I’ll be gone five days.”

I waited. She still hadn’t asked anything real.

“Could you check in on the house?” she added. “Feed Taco, water the plants, maybe bring in the mail. Just keep it from looking empty.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And your husband? What’s he doing while you’re gone?”

She looked down at her tea. “He said it’s not really his thing.”

I blinked. “What’s not his thing?”ly

“Taking care of the house. Feeding the cat. He said it’s not a man’s job.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “So, he can close real estate deals and wear cufflinks before noon, but a can of cat food is too much?”

Her jaw tightened. “Mark’s just not domestic. That’s just how he is.”

I leaned forward. “Jess, I love you. You know that. But you’re doing it again.”

She frowned. “Doing what?”

“You’re making excuses for him. Again. He doesn’t do much, but you keep defending him. Why?”

Her voice got louder. “You’ve never liked him. From day one. You always look for reasons to hate him.”

“I had reasons, Jess. I still do. My gut said no the moment I met him.”

She pointed a finger at me. “You’re alone, Lee. And that’s not his fault.”

I flinched. That one hit hard, but I kept my voice steady. “You think I’m jealous? You think I want your life?”

She stood up and crossed her arms. “You never gave him a chance. You decided you didn’t like him before you even heard him speak.”

Before I could answer, the sliding door opened behind her. Mark walked out like he owned the world. Crisp polo. Perfect hair. Phone in hand, thumbs tapping.

“What are we talking about?” he said. “Me again?”

“Just your refusal to feed the cat,” I said.

He gave that smug smile I hated. “I delegate where it makes sense. It’s called efficiency.”

I turned to Jessica. “He hasn’t looked up from that phone. Who’s he texting so much?”

“It’s work,” she said. “He has a big client. Real estate.”

I stared at his screen. “Must be a very flirty deal.”

Jessica slammed her glass down. “Enough. If you’re going to keep insulting him, maybe you shouldn’t help.”

I sighed. “I said I’d do it, and I will. For you. Not for him.”

Mark looked up. “Try not to rearrange the furniture.”

I smiled. “Wouldn’t want to upset your kingdom.”

But I was already planning to keep my eyes open.

It was late afternoon when I pulled into Jessica’s driveway. The sky looked strange—dark clouds rolled in slow, and the air felt still, like it was waiting for something bad to happen.

I parked and walked up the steps. The back door key was warm in my hand. I unlocked it and stepped inside.

Taco was there right away, rubbing against my leg, purring loud like always. He had no idea what was going on.

I bent down and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears. “Hey, buddy,” I whispered. “Let’s get you some food.”

I filled his bowl and poured some water, then walked around the kitchen. I checked the plants in the window and the mail on the counter. Everything looked normal. Too normal. That’s when I heard it.

Laughter.

A man’s voice—Mark. And then a woman’s laugh followed.

I froze at the bottom of the stairs. My heart pounded. I moved slowly, quietly as I could. The bedroom door was open just a little. I stepped closer and peeked in.

Mark was on the bed. Half his shirt was unbuttoned. Next to him was a woman wearing Jessica’s robe, sipping from her favorite glass like she owned the place.

“I told you it would work,” Mark said. He raised his glass and took a sip. “She signed it without reading. Didn’t even ask questions. Just trusted me like always.”

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