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His Wife’s Secretary: A Husband’s Betrayal - Chapter 33

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David

David sat at his desk, staring at the mess of papers and clutter he had meant to sort through weeks ago, but his

mind wasn’t on work. It was on her. It was always on her. He had r eplayed their late-night phone call so many

times that he could recite her words in his head, each syllable cutting de eper than the last. She was in Italy, the

place they had dreamed about together, and she was thinking of him. Of all things, him. She should have been

lost in the beauty of Florence, sipping wine and marveling at art, not wasting her thoughts on a man who had

failed her so profoundly. And yet, even through the raw ache of her words, there had been something in her

voice—a thread of vulnerability, of connection, that he couldn’t stop clinging to. It was a cruel irony. The more

she revealed how de eply he had hurt her, the more he loved her. And the more he hated himself. David knew

now, with brutal clarity, what he had been running from all along. It wasn’t her ambition, her career, or the long

hours she spent at the office. It wasn’t the distance he had tried to convince himself had grown between them. It

was him. His insecurities, his need to feel validated by someone who looked at him like he was more than just a

man waiting in the wings. When Natalia had kissed him that first time, he hadn’t stopped her— not because of

passion or love, but because of ego. Because he wanted to feel wanted, to fill a hollow he didn’t even

understand at the time. Now, he

saw it for what it was: a coward’s es cape from his own failings. He had let his insecurities lead him to betray

the woman who had always believed in him, who had built a life with him, who had trusted him. It had never

been about Lena. It was him, his weakness, his inability to confront the man in the mirror and admit he needed

to change. The call had left him gutted, but also... determined. He had told her he would always love her, and

he meant it. But love wasn’t enough. Not anymore. He needed to prove it—not to win her back, because he had

no right to even hope for that, but because she deserved a better version of him. Because she deserved a man

who could be the person she thought she had married. David stood, his resolve hardening. He wasn’t sure what

the future held, but he knew one thing: from now on, he would live in a way that honored her, that honored the

love he still felt for her. Whether she ever forgave him or not, whether they ever rebuilt what had been broken,

he would be faithful to her for the rest of his life. She had given him everything, and he had thrown it away. The

least he could do now was become the man she deserved—even if he would never get the chance to show her.

* * *

David sat on the wooden bleachers by the outdoor basketball court, sweat dripping down the back of his neck as

he unlaced his sneakers. The faint chill of the evening air did little to cool him off, the game’s intensity still

humming in his muscles. Around him, the other players joked and talked in low voices, the rhythmic bounce of

a stray basketball echoing in the background. Despite the chatter, David’s attention was elsewhere, his gaze

flicking over to Gavin, who was wiping down with a towel, his gym bag already slung over one shoulder. “You

heading out?” David asked, ke eping his tone casual, though a faint tension lurked beneath the words.

Gavin nodded, not looking directly at him. “Yeah. Dinner plans with Emily.” David’s chest tightened at the

mention of Gavin’s wife, a sharp reminder of the stability and trust that Gavin still had in his life. He forced a

nod, his expression carefully neutral. “Tell her I said hi.” Gavin paused for a moment, his lips pressing into a

thin line, but he didn’t r eply. Instead, he turned and started walking toward the parking lot, his footst eps

crunching on the gravel as he disappeared into the darkness. The air felt heavier as David watched him go, a

knot of unease settling in his gut. The faint laughter of the other players broke through his thoughts. A few of

them leaned against the chain-link fence, their water bottles in hand, one of them grinning as he looked over at

David. “So,” the guy drawled, tilting his head. “Heard you’ve been ke eping things... interesting off the court.

Pretty bold, man.” David stiffened, his hands freezing mid-motion as he stuffed his gear into his bag. “What’s

that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone low and cold. The guy smirked, oblivious to the warning. “I mean,

hey, if you’re gonna cheat, might as well make it worth it, right? Heard she was a hot piece. Can’t really blame

you.” Another chimed in, chuckling. “Yeah, seriously. Bet that was a fun little detour.” David slammed his bag

onto the bench with a loud thud, the sound silencing the laughter around him. He stood slowly, his gaze cutting

across the small group. “You think that’s funny?” he said, his voice steady but edged with steel. “You think

ruining my marriage, my life, is a goddamn joke?”

The smirks vanished, r eplaced by awkward shifts and averted gazes. David’s fists clenched at his sides, his

knuckles whitening as he struggled to ke ep his anger in check. “My wife,” he said, his voice rising slightly, “is

the most incredible person I’ve ever known. She’s brilliant, loyal, and stronger than anyone here could ever

hope to be. And I threw that away. I betrayed her in ways I’ll regret for the rest of my life. So, no. It’s not

funny. It’s not admirable. It’s weak, and it’s pathetic. And if you think there’s anything to admire about what I

did, then you’re as much of an idiot as I am.” The air around them grew tense, the faint breeze stirring the

leaves the only sound as the group stared at him, dumbfounded. One of them muttered an awkward, “Didn’t

mean anything by it,” before looking down at his sneakers, clearly uncomfortable. David sat back down on the

bleachers, grabbing his towel and wiping his face, his jaw tight. He could feel the weight of their stares, the

tension lingering like an unspoken rebuke, but he didn’t care. For once, he had said what needed to be said.

Ryan, who had been sitting quietly a few feet away, finally stood, walking over to him. He didn’t say a

word—just gave David a firm clap on the shoulder before heading off toward the parking lot. The simple

gesture carried more weight than any words could have, a subtle acknowledgment that David had, at least in

this moment, done something right. As David watched Ryan disappear into the distance, he took a slow,

steadying breath. The ache in his chest didn’t ease, and the guilt that shadowed him didn’t fade. He couldn’t

undo what he’d done, but maybe, just maybe, he could start making things right.

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