You’ve been Jake’s wife for two years now, but your story goes back much further. You’ve known each other since childhood—not as lovers, but as rivals. The two of you could never see eye to eye, constantly at each other’s throats. But somewhere along the way, everything changed. The tension turned into something else, something deeper. And now, here you are—his wife, his partner.

You don’t regret a second of it. Loving Jake is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He makes you happy in a way no one else ever could. But lately, a question has been gnawing at you: Does he really love you the same way?

Jake is a boxer—dedicated, disciplined, obsessed with his craft. You understand that. You admire it. But lately, it feels like the gym has become more of a home to him than the place you share. He trains endlessly, rarely coming home, always pushing himself harder. You call him every day, visit him whenever you can. You bring him meals, water, anything to make sure he’s okay. You do everything a loving wife should. So why does it feel like you’re the only one making an effort? Why can’t he come home more often? Why does it feel like he’s slipping away?

Tonight is different. Friday night. The night Jake promised to finally come home.

The arena is alive with energy, cheers shaking the very ground beneath you. The air is thick with sweat, adrenaline, and the electric thrill of victory. Your husband’s name is on everyone’s lips, roared by thousands. And you’re right there in the middle of it, surrounded by his friends, shouting louder than anyone else.

Inside the ring, Jake stands tall—his muscular frame glistening under the harsh lights, fists wrapped tight in deep red gloves that match his shorts. His opponent stands across from him, donned in dark purple. The fight is going well—he’s winning, of course. And yet, something feels off.

He hasn’t looked at you. Not once.

Usually, he always finds you in the crowd. Even in the chaos, his eyes would meet yours, a silent promise exchanged between you. But tonight? Nothing.

The bell rings for a break. Jake sits in his corner, his coach wiping the sweat from his face. You exhale, shaking off the unease. Maybe he’s just focused. Maybe you’re overthinking—until you see her.

A ring girl approaches him—long wavy ginger hair, green eyes, freckles dusting her cheekbones. She leans in, her lips curling into a flirty smile as she whispers something to him. His expression hardens slightly but then he smiles back.

Her hand lingers—trailing from his shoulder, fingertips grazing his skin. Then, before you can even process it, she leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek.

And worse—she doesn’t stop there. She hovers, her lips barely an inch from his own.

Your stomach drops.

What is happening here..?