I’m Here to Bring You Home Chapter 1

The plane landed in Dubai at 8:30 PM, the sky behind me alight with gunfire. I texted my husband, Justin Vane:

[I'm here. I've come to bring you home.]

He didn’t reply.

I called his assistant, Blake Miller. Blake stammered, “You actually went to the UAE?”

An explosion rumbled nearby. My eyes stung.

“Which district is he in?”

A pause. “He never left the country.”

Wind cut through my collar.

Blake’s voice fell. “The business trip was a lie.”

A picture came through—dated today.

Justin, smiling, arm around a woman blowing out candles.

Cathy Evans.

The woman he swore three years ago he’d never see again.

He’d also forgotten—today was my birthday.

Another text: “Autumn, Justin never stopped seeing her. I didn’t dare tell you.”

I looked at my phone.

That message—I’ve come to bring you home—was never sent.

If that was how it was, I’d stop waiting for him to come home.

…

“Madam, please use the evacuation route and do not linger here.”

The airport announcement sounded again. I took a step, then my legs buckled, and I fell.

I don’t know how many places I drifted through.

Finally, the moment I boarded the plane back home.

I couldn’t help but cry aloud.

Back home, looking disheveled and exhausted, I headed to a law firm.

In the elevator, I heard someone behind me playfully complaining on the phone.

“Who stole that lace thong from my pocket? I came here commando, it’s all your fault.”

“Alright, I’ll wait. Let’s see how you punish me later.”

I turned around, incredulous.

It was Cathy.

She was still on the phone. “Do you have enough condoms in your drawer?”

The elevator doors closed, reflecting two faces in the mirror.

One was delicate, with exquisite makeup, and a playful sparkle in her eyes.

The other was smudged and gray, with sunken eyes, chapped lips, and frizzy hair tied loosely.

No wonder she didn’t recognize me.

After the smoke and fires of war, I barely recognized myself either.

A low chuckle came from the other end of the phone.

“Depends on who it’s for. For you? Never enough.”

She pouted playfully. “If your wife heard that, she’d be filing for divorce again.”

“Let her. So what if we divorce again?”

The elevator was ice cold, but I felt as if someone had seized my throat.

My entire body trembled, but not a single word would come out.

“You, you’re trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?”

She lowered her voice, the end of her sentence rising in a flirtatious tone.

“Be careful, I might just scream later and let everyone at your firm know that Attorney Vane is cheating again, and with me.”

He laughed again.

“If you dare to scream, I’ll break the news to her right away.”

The elevator doors opened.

Justin, impeccably dressed in a suit, stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Cathy’s waist, lowering his head to kiss her.

He was as impatient as a fish starved for water, finally finding a spring.

Cathy laughed, trying to shy away, but he pulled her back, deepening the kiss.

She punched his chest playfully, mumbling, “There are other people here…”

Only then did Justin lift his head.

My hands and feet fumbled as I spun around, my eyes instantly moist.

“Let her look. I’m kissing the woman I love most. What’s there to hide?”

Cathy nestled into his embrace, giggling, her whole body shaking.

He took off his coat and wrapped it around her.

“If I didn’t have urgent business back at the firm to retrieve some documents, I wouldn’t want to be apart from you for a second.”

He sighed.

“I’m just afraid that if I show up at the firm now, my wife will find out tomorrow.”

Cathy playfully purred, “Alright, I’ll let you have your way tonight. Consider it my comfort to you.”

The elevator quickly descended to the second basement level. I followed mechanically.

Then, I watched them get into the luxury car whose license plate was my birthday.

Soon, the car began to subtly rock.

I stood rooted to the spot, a chill creeping up my spine, freezing me to the bone.

No one knew.

Justin and I’s first time had also been in a car.

He was so nervous his palms were sweating, constantly asking if it hurt.

When I said no, he would smile and say, “You’re so wonderful, Cathy.”

“Cathy, don’t worry, I will never let you down.”

Afterward, he wrapped me in his coat and turned the heater up full blast.

I leaned on his shoulder and teased, saying that when we were rich, we’d buy the most luxurious car.

He said, “Okay, and I’ll put it in your name.”

Later, his career flourished, we naturally married, and lived three happy years.

Until I found him in bed with his secretary, Cathy Evans.

I was willing to leave with nothing just to divorce him.

The day we got our divorce papers, he jumped from a third-story window.

He didn't die, but he broke a leg. Lying in the hospital bed, he confessed his wrongdoings and begged me for another chance.

My heart softened. I cared for him for six months until he fully recovered.

After we remarried, he was even better to me than before.

He swore he would never do anything to betray me again.

But now.

This heart, bruised by him, had just begun to heal, only for him to brutally tear it open once more.

Bleeding profusely.