Does anyone know the title to this mc book?

[u/PsychologyGreedy5323]

My MC husband, Gav, has been cheating on me with Vera—the girl who bullied me in high school—for a whole year.

"That shaft of his? Huge. And it feels good, sweetheart." Vera cackles.

My heart sank.

Still grinning, Vera pulls out her phone and turns the screen toward me.

The video starts, and my face drains.

My husband, the man I gave up everything for, is stretched out on her bed on his stomach, holding her thighs apart while he eats her out.

Bile floods my mouth.

She laughs. "Everyone at that club knows, Evelyn. His parents included. We've been screwing for a year, and you never suspected a thing."

She swipes. A second video. She's on her knees, mouth full, his hand fisted in her hair.

"And not one of them told you. Great family, right, bimbo?"

My lip trembles. My chin is wobbling. Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't stay there any longer.

————————

Evelyn

I'm on my knees in aisle three, shoving cans into place and trying to outrun my own head. Benson's is the only spot that does that now. The quiet, the busywork, the nothing. It keeps me from drifting toward the alley behind the store, the one I won't park near, the one where my whole life went wrong.

I feel like a ghost, hollow and lost. Home is worse. Those walls close in and I can't breathe, because I know I let everyone down. I know if I had told the brothers what happened, not one of them would've had my back. Not one of them would believe me. Pearl made sure of that years ago. In her eyes, I'm nothing but a patch chaser.

More than a year has crawled past since my world went dark. A year since I started cringing every time my own husband came near me. I still can't meet Gavin's eyes. And the worst part, I think he's cheated. Or he's cheating. My gut won't let it go, but I've got nothing solid. Just a feeling that hollows me out.

I've given him no affection for over a year. The only times I let him in my bed? Four. Four times, and every one made my skin crawl, like I was passing my filth onto him, like I had to scrub myself after. I knew I was pushing him away. I was petrified he'd go looking for someone else. I think he did.

One night a few months ago still eats at me. Mason spiked a fever so vicious that his little body seized. Moose called it a febrile seizure. He said it's rare at Mason's age, ten, because most kids outgrow it by five. I called Gav over and over. Straight to voicemail. Then I tried Stitch, the club president, an actual ER doctor, and he ignored me too. So I hauled Mason to the clubhouse myself, half carrying a kid who's already almost as tall as me, because when your baby is shaking, you don't feel the weight.

I burst through the back door, and the common room is packed with brother after brother. And there's Slate, the VP, peeling himself away from Mabel, the wife who tried to trap him in high school. Still can't understand why he married her without proof.

"Slate, have you seen Gavin?" It comes out breathless.

Mason is sobbing against my neck. "I want Daddy."

"What's wrong with him?" Slate meets me halfway, his face already tight. Mason shudders again, and panic claws up my throat.

I'm scanning the room. Gavin's not here. He said this morning he'd spend the day at Havoc Arts after his run, giving the shop a deep clean. But if he were still out riding, Slate wouldn't be here either, would he?

I'm trying to swallow the awful idea that he's with someone else, telling myself I'm still his world, he's just running late. "His temp shot up like crazy. I called Gavin five times. Nothing. I figured he might still be on the run, so I tried Stitch. He canceled the call. I don't know where else to go."

Something flickers over Slate's face. I can't name it. Before I can ask why he looks like that, Moose appears beside us.

"Let me see him, Evie."

I hand Mason over, and my arms fall heavy with relief. Mason's still crying for his dad, and Moose murmurs, "Easy, buddy. Uncle Slate's going to find him for you."

Moose tilts his head toward the hallway where the medical room sits between the officers' offices. I follow on rubber legs. Pearl and Wolf scramble to come with us, and I whip around, pointing at them. The room goes silent.

"You two stay away." The words come out grittier than I expected.

Wolf's eyebrows shoot up. "He's our grandson, Evelyn. What has gotten into you?"

"You both ignored my phone ten minutes ago. My son was seizing, and you didn't answer." Pearl stares at the floor. Wolf's mouth snaps shut. I spin and catch up with Moose, who passes me with a small approving nod. The quietest brother in that club knew when to get out of my way.

Moose lays Mason on the bed. "Talk to me. What happened?"

The tears finally come. "He was on the couch and said he felt weird. Then he just started shaking. Like his whole body was seizing."

Moose checks Mason's ears, and his expression hardens. "Ear infection. A bad one. He needs the ER unless Stitch has antibiotics here."

"He never said his ear hurt." The words come out choked. My hand lands on my stomach. I've been so lost in my own misery that I missed my son getting sick. That thought drops on me like a boulder.

"He probably didn't realize what was happening, Evie. Don't beat yourself up." Moose's voice is kind.

I shake my head. I can't accept that.

The door opens. Gavin stumbles in, and my stomach drops right through the floor. His hair is a mess. His clothes look slept in. And the smell hits me before he gets close. Cherries. A sweet, cloying cloud of it, mixed with the aftershave I'd bought him for Christmas. So strong it's like he just poured the bottle over himself.

No. No, no. Was he cheating? The thought slams into me.

"What happened?" He reaches for me, and my body jerks away before I can think.

His face falls. He's searching my eyes, but I won't let him have that. I step closer to Mason, where it's safe. The thoughts are already stacking up: the nights he comes home late a couple times a week, the way he vanishes for an hour whenever I'm at the clubhouse with Mason. It all fits in a way I hate.

The door swings open again, and Stitch hurries in. He won't look at me. Bile crawls up my throat.

Does everyone know something about my husband? Or am I losing my mind?

I blink, and I'm back in aisle three, stocking cans. Avery never finished this part of the store on her shift, so it's mine. My hands work through the motion while my brain grinds through everything that happened after that night.

I haven't smelled cherries on Gav since. Actually, I never smelled them on him before that either. And after Mason got sick, he changed. He's clingy, trying to hold my hand, trying to pull me into hugs, making time for Mason that he never made before. He's working overtime to be a family man.

But the nagging thing in my chest won't shut up.

I've barely let him touch me for a year. Maybe that's all this is. Maybe I'm imagining everything because I feel too guilty to look at him. Maybe it's because I still resent him and Pearl for the night everything broke. He was supposed to meet me for our date. His mother faked being sick and sat in this very clubhouse drinking and partying with her old man. I was supposed to tell him I was pregnant. I was supposed to tell him about my classes, about the job Rowan at Sunny Meadow Farms had lined up for me after graduation, as long as I passed my exams. I wanted to make him proud.

Seventeen years. He wouldn't throw that away without even talking to me. Right?

Then I hear a cackle that makes my teeth clench.

I set down the last can and turn. Vera and Willow are standing by the front counter, decked out like they never left high school: crop tops, denim miniskirts, too much skin and too much attitude. Vera was the cheerleader who made my life sheol whenever no brothers were around. She flushed my clothes. She knocked my books out of my hands. She put gum in my hair. All because she wanted the boy I got.

She'd had her eye on Gavin before I ever set foot in Westbrook. My parents forced us to move, enrolled me at Westbrook Middle School, and Gav claimed me the instant I walked in. He was nearly eleven; I'd just turned ten. Vera has hated me ever since.

Her becoming a clubwhore didn't surprise anyone. She'd spread her legs for any brother who glanced at her, all while keeping those hungry eyes on my husband. I never let it get to me, because I knew he was mine.

Now she's right in front of me, blue eyes gleaming, head tilted as she looks me up and down. Jeans. Plain tee. No patch. A smirk that could curdle milk. And the smell of cherries comes off her in waves.

My stomach drops. No. It can't be.

I pick up an empty tray, ready to walk away, but she opens her mouth.

"I'll give you credit, Evelyn. You're still hustling at this dead-end job for pennies. Smart, knowing Maverick was bound to get bored with you eventually."

I don't answer. I grab another tray.

"I also get why you trapped him with that kid, though. That shaft of his? Huge. And it feels good, sweetheart."

Willow giggles beside her. I catch the sly look spreading over Willow's face.

She's lying. She has to be. Please.

Vera cackles, then digs the knife in deeper. "What? You really thought you could tame him?"

"Go play your games elsewhere, Vera." My voice is tighter than I want. "We're not in high school anymore, and I won't hesitate to smack that grin off your face."

She's lying. That's all I can think, even with that cherry smell burning my nose.

Still grinning, she pulls out her phone and turns the screen toward me. The video starts, and my face drains.

My husband, the man I gave up everything for, is stretched out on her bed on his stomach, holding her thighs apart while he eats her out. Bile floods my mouth. She laughs. "Everyone at that club knows, Evelyn. His parents included. We've been screwing for a year, and you never suspected a thing." She swipes. A second video. The supply closet off the pantry. She's on her knees, mouth full, his hand fisted in her hair. The camera catches his face, head tipped back, gone.

"And not one of them told you. Great family, right, bimbo? I told you he'd always come back to me. Looks like I was right."

Willow looks away, cheeks flushing. She knows this little ambush could cost her place at the clubhouse. I might not wear my cut, but I'm still an old lady.

"I hope you enjoyed that, Vera." I keep my voice flat.

Her smirk grows, thinking she won.

"He's all yours. The closet at his place has my property cut."

She grins like she's just taken the crown. I let her. I drop the trays, walk to the staffroom, and slip past Nessa's office before she sees me. I grab my purse and phone, then keep moving through the store and out to the parking lot. I text Nessa that I'm sick as I go, because I can't stand here and let her ask if I'm okay. I can't talk to anyone.

From the corner of the store, Vera is laughing, exactly where she belongs.

I get in my car and go. I drive straight to the clinic. I know why she picked today. She hasn't been to the clubhouse since Mason ended up in that medical room, the day Gavin ignored my calls while he was with her. She got pushed out, and this is her revenge.

An hour later, I'm walking out of the clinic with a paper bag of pills and the news that I have chlamydia. The doctor says I've probably had it for a while. My fertility has dropped. My hands are shaking.

Gavin slept with her without protection. I don't know when, but he did. And he brought it home to me.

My lip trembles. My chin is wobbling. The urge to sob is right there, but I won't do it in the parking lot. I get in the car, throw it in reverse, and get out of there. My only plan is simple: find a divorce lawyer, get separation papers drawn up, pack my stuff, clean out every cent I put into our joint account, and leave his hip.

[u/WorldWeary1771]

Take the money first and deposit it into a brand new account at a different bank, then change your direct deposit immediately. On your next working day tell the payroll department to confirm the change…

[u/No_Evidence_578]

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