My Wife Slept With Her Idol in My Tent? Now...It's My Turn Chapter 2

Julian's POV

At breakfast, I watched Chloe stuff an entire box of imported high-protein energy bars into her sports backpack.

I'd bought them to keep my energy up during long work nights; she hadn't asked.

She hummed a tune, then casually tossed a bottle of men's antiperspirant into her bag.

It wasn't the brand we kept at home; it was the cologne-scented one Jax frequently used in his videos.

Bringing things from home out, and bringing outside scents in.

Chloe leaned over and casually brushed my face.

"Honey, the team's busy these next few days. You'll have to figure out dinner yourself."

I recoiled from her touch.

"Busy with what? Busy with weighted squats?"

Her face stiffened.

"Who are you being sarcastic to? That was recovery training! Jax was just helping me get back in shape!"

Then she forced a smile.

"Oh, don't be mad, sweetie. To make it up to you, I've got something planned for this weekend."

She pressed on my shoulder, her technique practiced.

"Darling, how about we go night fishing at 'Stillwater Lake' this weekend? Haven't you always wanted to go camping?"

My eyes flickered. She always hated mosquito bites.

"I've already borrowed all the gear from Jax, the most professional outdoor tent. I promise I'll stay up with you all night this time."

She didn't even know I had a full set of custom fishing gear, no need to borrow.

Chloe finished speaking and rushed out the door.

"I'm going to pick up the tent."

The moment the door closed, I felt a wave of absurdity.

Using her lover's tent to sleep with her own husband-was this a compensation, or a humiliation?

I sat in the living room, looking at the custom fishing gear bag gathering dust in the corner.

A cross hung on the bag, which she'd gotten for me during our first year of marriage.

Back then, she'd said, "You go fishing, and I'll read beside you."

Now, she didn't even know where I fished, yet she wanted to take me to a campsite recommended by Jax.

I picked up the cross and tossed it into the trash can.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Alice.

"There might be a show to watch this weekend."

It was Friday evening. I was packing when a video call came in from Mrs. Davis, Chloe's mother.

She had a booming voice.

"Julian! I hear Chloe's going fishing with you? See how much that girl cares! Taking time off her busy team schedule just for you."

I kept my face blank.

"Yes. She borrowed Jax's tent."

"Oh, how thoughtful of him! You two have a wonderful time!"

Saturday afternoon. One hour past our agreed time.

No call. No text.

I sat on the sofa, watching the second hand tick. This kind of waiting was all too familiar.

Finally, Chloe texted.

"Something urgent came up with the team. We'll do night fishing another time."

Hours later, I saw Jax's Instagram update popped up.

A nine photo carousel, tagged at Stillwater Lake.

In one corner of a photo, Jax sat smoking in my custom fishing chair. It was the one with my name engraved on it. My cherished rod lay beside his feet.

I zoomed in with two fingers.

Jax was barefoot, his feet resting on the chair's leather armrest.

I oiled that chair meticulously after every trip. Now it was caked in mud and reeked of foot odor.

The caption read: "Good chair. Super comfy. Thanks, man."

At 2 AM, Chloe finally came home.

She was carrying my fishing gear. The bag was spattered with mud.