One day, a polite yet unsettling call came through from the hotel, alerting me to an outstanding charge. The fee for condoms used the previous night, they said, had already been added to my membership account. I was utterly dumbfounded. I'd worked late the night before and hadn't set foot inside that hotel at all. Therefore, I confronted my husband, Rex Dillon, the only person who knew my card number, and demanded an explanation. But he only stared at me, his face a mask of confusion. "Honey, that hotel's over ten thousand a night. I wouldn't waste that kind of money. It's got to be a system glitch on their end." "Probably someone typed in the wrong membership number. I'll call and complain tomorrow!" I didn't waste another breath on him. The hotel's investor was my best friend, Vivien Bowman, so I dialed her directly. "Hey, can you check who Rex brought to the hotel last night? I'm gonna catch them red-handed!" - My husband's pathetic excuse was almost laughable. The day Vivien became the hotel's investor, she called me and gifted me a lifetime free-stay VIP card for my birthday. The card was linked exclusively to my personal information, meaning no one else could use it. Yet the hotel had called, claiming I'd checked into the presidential suite the night before and used the condoms in the room. I asked three times to confirm, and the person on the line insisted it was Leila Ruth herself who'd checked in. I couldn't swallow this humiliation. What made it worse was that once, when I'd mentioned using the card, Rex had looked utterly annoyed and snapped. "Is our home not good enough for you? Why would you rather sleep elsewhere? I'm so sick of your ridiculous spending habits!" I didn't get it. Why was he so pissed off just because I wanted to use a free card? The angrier I grew, the faster I drove, heading straight for the hotel. The holiday season was approaching, and the lobby was packed with guests checking in. I had to wait nearly half an hour before the receptionist finally looked a little less swamped. "Hello, I'm Leila Ruth. You called me this morning." I said, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. The receptionist looked up, her face clouding with confusion. "Ms. Ruth? I thought you just went back to your room. You made it clear that no housekeeping service was needed a moment ago." My face darkened instantly. The receptionist went on. "Just ten minutes ago, Ms. Ruth called and activated the do-not-disturb service." I was so furious that I trembled all over. That woman had the nerve to check in under my name! Gritting my teeth, I said, "But I am the real Leila Ruth!" The receptionist eyed me up and down impatiently. "Madam, if you don't have a reservation, please leave. We have many guests today. Please don't cause a scene here." "Ms. Ruth arrived with her husband and used the VIP card. Although I've never met Ms. Ruth, Mr. Dillon is a regular here. No doubt about that." It hit me like a bolt of lightning. My husband had become someone else's husband? The irony was bitter enough to choke on. At that moment, the elevator dinged open. Tiffany Butler stepped out, clad in the latest Chanel suit of the season. The diamond necklace around her neck was the one I'd bought at auction for 1.8 million. As far as I knew, she was just my husband's newly graduated junior. The receptionist's face lit up as if she'd spotted a savior. She pointed straight at Tiffany and said to me. "This is the real Ms. Ruth. The rightful one. I suggest you leave immediately and stop making trouble." Tiffany's face blanched the second she saw me, but she recovered fast, forcing a sickly sweet smile. "What a coincidence! Are you staying here, too?" I coldly shook off her outstretched hand. "Tiffany, don't you think you owe me an explanation? Why did you check in under my name? And why were the condoms you used charged to my account?" "Also, why are my shoes on your feet? And when did my husband become yours?" My voice cut through the lobby, and the previously noisy crowd fell dead silent. Every pair of eyes locked onto Tiffany. Tiffany glanced around nervously, then her eyes immediately welled with tears. "What are you talking about? My husband gave me this card because he felt bad about my frequent business trips. And he bought me these shoes as well." "As for the condoms..." She feigned shyness and lowered her head. "What's wrong with me using them with my husband?" Suddenly, she lifted her gaze towards me, her expression laced with pity. "Are you upset because your husband doesn't treat you well? Need my help to get you a psychiatrist?" The moment the words left her mouth, the crowd erupted into murmurs. "Look at her haggard face. Her husband must not want to touch her." "A card like that starts at 300,000 dollars. She doesn't seem like someone who could afford it." "Are they seriously letting in just anyone at such a high-end place?" I was only wearing casual clothes today, hardly the shabby mess they made me out to be. Tuning out their gossip, I turned to Tiffany with a cold, sharp smile. "I never realized you were so good with words." Then I shifted my gaze to the receptionist. "Did you verify her identity when the co-called 'Ms. Ruth' checked in?" The receptionist hesitated, her face flushing. "She said she didn't have her ID, but Mr. Dillon is a regular, so..." "So you just broke the rules?" I cut her off sharply. "Your hotel's security is a joke." The receptionist fell silent. Tiffany immediately slipped back into her sweet, innocent act. "She's just a receptionist. Why are you picking on her? People stay at hotels they can afford. Don't make a scene here." Her words couldn't have been clearer: I didn't belong here. At that moment, her phone rang. The word "honey" blazed bright on the screen. "Answer it," I sneered. "Put it on speaker. Let's hear how Rex is going to spin this."
Tiffany answered triumphantly. As she tapped the speaker button, she burst into fake, heaving sobs. "Honey, come to the hotel quick! There's a crazy woman saying I'm not your wife and trying to kick me out..." She wailed dramatically, and Rex's furious voice exploded from the phone at once. "A crazy woman? How dare she bully you? Don't be scared. I'm on my way!" A crazy woman. So that was what I was to him now. The onlookers stared at me with open disdain, some even stepping forward to comfort Tiffany. "Don't take it to heart. She's insane." Tiffany murmured her thanks, then turned to me with a look of feigned concern. "My husband will be here soon. He has a terrible temper. You better leave fast." "He just gave me that $300,000 VIP card, you know? “ “Shows how much he spoils me. If he gets here... Who knows what he might do to you?" It sounded like a warning, but it was nothing but a slap in the face, a barefaced provocation. I trembled with rage, every fiber of me screaming to tear off her hypocritical mask right then and there. Rex arrived faster than I'd expected. He burst through the hotel doors. The second his eyes landed on me, they turned cold and vicious. He roughly shoved me aside, then pulled Tiffany into a tight, protective embrace. "Don't be afraid. I'm here." The way he gently stroked Tiffany's hair was so tender it hurt to watch. Pushed by him, I stumbled backward, my waist slamming hard into the sofa arm behind me. If not for the furniture, I would have crashed straight to the ground. Meanwhile, Tiffany stood on tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and the two locked in a long, wet, lingering kiss. "You're so good to me, honey." Tiffany panted, her voice thick with coquetry. "You need to set this woman straight. She won't believe I'm your wife!" Only then did Rex turn his gaze to me. There was no flicker of guilt, only pure disgust. He released Tiffany and strode over, then slapped me hard across the face. "Tiffany! Have you no shame? “ ”Just because I turned you down when you tried to hint for a permanent position, you've held a grudge ever since." "Now you dare to bully my wife in public?" I clapped a hand to my cheek, which flared red, swollen, and burning hot. I stared at him in disbelief. The man before me was a stranger, terrifyingly unfamiliar. Before I'd come to the hotel, he'd feigned ignorance on the phone, using his usual gentle patience to tell me not to overthink. Yet, in the blink of an eye, he could twist the truth without batting an eye and even hurt me. He'd always had two faces, it turned out. Now that I thought back, the signs had been there all along. He'd only lit up at the latest gaming console I'd bought him, but dismissed my painstakingly developed scientific research as nothing but scrap. His so-called concern had always circled back to my bank card. Maybe he'd never loved me. Maybe he'd never even tried to understand the real me.
A strange sense of calm rose from the depths of my chest, drowning out all the anger. I lowered my hand from my face and looked straight at him, my voice shockingly steady, even to myself. "Rex, repeat what you just said." "Tell me, who am I? And who is she?" A flicker of panic crossed Rex's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by an even more self-righteous, aggressive tone. "You really are crazy! Wasn't I clear enough? She is my lawfully wedded wife, Leila! And you? You're just some intern who failed to climb the ladder, Tiffany!" He raked his eyes over me, his voice cold and cruel. "Look at yourself. You're pushing forty, aren't you? How could I possibly marry someone like you? Don't embarrass yourself, okay?" The crowd erupted into more murmurs, sharp and judgmental. "Can't get a man herself, so she's jealous of others' happiness." "I told you she must be crazy. Didn't think she'd start having delusions, too. That's really scary." "Poor couple. They're so unlucky to run into a nutjob like this." I stayed quiet, just watching their little show. Rex was clearly dead-set on protecting Tiffany, even if it meant grinding me into the dirt. But did he really think he could twist the truth with just a few lies? Slowly, I pulled my ID card and marriage certificate out of my bag. "These should be enough to prove who I am." Rex and Tiffany's faces froze at once. Tiffany's eyes went wide with shock, and she tugged nervously at Rex's sleeve. Rex lunged forward, snatched the ID and marriage certificate out of my hand, and without even glancing at them, hurled them straight out the hotel's revolving glass door. "Will you just stop?" Veins bulged on his forehead, his act growing more convincing by the second. "Last time you waved a fake ID at me to disgust me, and now this new trick? Forging an ID and a marriage certificate?” “Tiffany, have some shame! Do you think I won't call the cops and report you for harassment and forging official documents?" The onlookers' stares shifted from disdain to outright revulsion, and they echoed in unison. "Call the police! Do it now!" His reflexes were impressive. I'd give him that. The second I laid out the proof, he'd branded me a fraud. At that moment, I almost wished the marriage certificate had been fake. Tiffany visibly relaxed at that. She snuggled back into Rex's arms and spoke to me in a tone that sounded concerned but oozed malice, "You've been so abused by your husband that you've lost your mind. I can introduce you to a good psychiatrist.And a top divorce lawyer if you need." She stressed the word "divorce" extra hard. After all, once I was gone, she could step right into the role of Mrs. Dillon. As a response, Rex kissed her forehead, then turned back to me, his eyes as cold as ice. "Get out of here now, or I'm calling the police immediately!" He snapped at the receptionist. "Call security to drive this crazy woman out. Who knows what else she might do? What if she hurts other guests?" The crowd roared, "Kick her out! Or we'll complain about the hotel!" The receptionist didn't dare hesitate. She grabbed her walkie-talkie and called for security at once. Two tall guards marched over, grabbed my arms from either side, and began dragging me roughly towards the exit.
I struggled desperately, my elbows throbbing from the rough tugging. Amid the chaos, Tiffany had somehow slipped close to me. Seizing the split second when everyone's attention was elsewhere, she tripped me. Already off-balance, I crashed hard to the marble floor. "Oops!" Tiffany gasped in feigned innocence. "I just wanted to help you up, and you deliberately fell to blame me. Unbelievable!" My ankle swelled into a painful lump instantly, and a wide patch of skin was scraped raw on my knee, blood seeping out at once. My face paled with agony as I tried to stand, only to collapse back down. Rex stood there, watching coldly, as if I were a total stranger. My heart turned to ice at that moment. Any last shred of hope for him was snuffed out. With trembling hands, I fumbled in my pocket for my phone, desperate to call 911. But the second I unlocked it, Rex lunged forward and snatched it away. "What are you trying to do? Call the police?" he accused me falsely. "Let me tell you, everyone here saw clearly that you fell on purpose. Don't even think about framing my wife and the hotel!" "I have a bleeding disorder. Call an ambulance, now!" I shouted through the pain. But Rex remained indifferent, instead hurling my phone forcefully across the lobby. The receptionist, fearing trouble, hesitated to act. Left alone, I endured the searing pain, using my uninjured leg to prop myself up and crawl towards my phone. Just then, a delicate high heel stomped down hard on my palm. Tiffany looked down at me condescendingly. "Sign a statement and admit everything today was your fault. Then I'll call an ambulance for you. Otherwise..." She pressed down harder. The excruciating pain in my hand, mixed with the agony from my knee and ankle, nearly made me black out. I could barely speak, trembling violently from both pain and rage, my consciousness growing hazy. Just as I thought I would pass out, a series of rapid, sharp high-heel clicks echoed from the hotel entrance. My best friend, Vivien, was striding in. "Leila, I've found out. Rex really did cheat! “ ”He's checked into this hotel more times than you have in the past few years." "He even dared to use the exclusive membership card I gave you with that mistress. I won?t let him get away with this!" My best friend, also the hotel's investor, had arrived with several hotel executives and security guards in tow. Her voice, however, cut off abruptly the moment she saw me kneeling on the ground in such a miserable state. The receptionist, who had been so arrogant just moments ago, now turned pale, her voice trembling as she timidly called out. "Dir... Director Bowman..."
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