Chapter 1: The Price of Loyalty

I took the fall for my wife and spent seven years in prison. Even now, just thinking about it, I can still feel the weight of those iron bars and the sting of betrayal settling deep in my bones. My hands would shake sometimes, just remembering the cold, stale air of my cell and the echo of my own thoughts ricocheting off the walls.

Seven years. Seven whole years. That’s a hell of a long time to count every crack in the ceiling, to lie awake and wonder if anyone out there even remembers you exist. Seven years of your name fading like old graffiti. Sometimes, late at night, I’d tell myself it had to be worth it. That maybe, just maybe, love could survive anything. But the truth? I was just lying to myself.

When I finally got out, the only job I could snag was as an elevator repairman. Not much of a homecoming, huh? I guess ex-cons don’t have a lot of options, but I tried not to let it get to me.

It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills—barely. Every day I’d keep my head down, toolbox in hand, hoping nobody would look too close or recognize my name. The scent of grease and metal clung to me, the hum of elevator cables almost soothing after a while. Still, it was honest work. I mean, that counts for something, doesn’t it?

One afternoon, I got a call to fix an elevator that had jammed because someone inside was moving around too much. When I showed up, I couldn’t believe what I saw—the source of those loud, unmistakable thumping noises was my wife and my best friend, tangled together right in front of me.

It felt like a punch to the gut—like my insides caved in all at once. The building was one of those high-end glass-and-marble towers in Maple Heights, all polished and perfect. As I walked past, the security guard gave me a wink, like we were sharing some private joke. But the joke was on me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, every step heavier than the last.

A lace bra strap was caught right in the elevator door. My breath caught. For a split second, the world narrowed to that tiny, delicate loop of fabric.

It was pale pink, delicate—Jessica’s favorite color. I stared at it, frozen, my brain just couldn’t catch up to what I was seeing. My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped my tools. The air felt thick, like I was moving underwater.

I felt my heart freeze over, inch by inch. Nothing. Just cold.

It was like someone poured ice water straight through my veins. My knees nearly buckled. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The world just…stopped. All I could hear was the pounding in my ears. And the muffled giggles from inside that damned elevator.

She’d always claimed she was scared of pain, so in three years of marriage, we’d never once slept together. She convinced me adoption was the way to go. But that child turned out to be Tyler’s biological son. How could I have missed it?

I remember those nights, her voice trembling, telling me she just couldn’t. That she wanted a family, but not like that. I believed her. God, I wanted to believe her. We adopted Henry, or so she said. But the older he got, the more he looked like Tyler—and nothing like me. It hit me like a freight train. Harder than any prison guard’s baton ever could.

Seven years I did time for her, and all I got in return was a wrecked family and a ruined career. A house that wasn’t a home. A bed that was always cold.

My hands tightened around the wrench until my knuckles turned white. Nothing. Not a damn thing. I thought about all the things I’d lost—my job, my reputation, my freedom. For what? For someone who never really saw me at all.

I was done being a doormat. I decided it was time to go back to the career I gave up for her seven years ago. No more playing the fool.

It was time to stop playing the martyr. Something sharp, almost electric, settled in my chest. Maybe it wasn’t too late to start over, to take back what I’d given up.

Her tears and tantrums didn’t move me anymore. Not anymore.

The old Zach would’ve caved, tried to fix everything with a smile and an apology. Not this time. I was done letting her guilt-trip me into submission. I felt nothing. My heart was numb, and I liked it that way.

When I got there to fix the elevator, I heard a familiar voice. My stomach twisted. For a second, I just stood there, not sure if I was dreaming or awake.

It was almost surreal, hearing her voice over the intercom—sweet, high-pitched, like sugar dusted over broken glass. I froze, recognizing it instantly. Even though I hadn’t heard it in years, I’d know that voice anywhere.

“Sir, please hurry, I’m so scared! Why is this elevator stuck and not moving?”

Jessica’s voice floated out, syrupy and soft. Through the crack in the door, I could just make out her legs wrapped around Tyler’s waist. My head spun. Was this really happening?

I had to bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from shouting. There she was, the woman I’d loved, tangled up with my best friend, looking like she didn’t have a single worry in the world.

Then I heard Tyler’s smooth, comforting tone:

“Don’t worry, Jess. I’m right here.”

He sounded so calm, so sure of himself. Like this was just another day for him. Like he’d done this a hundred times before. Hell, maybe he had.

The wife I hadn’t seen in seven years was tangled up with my best friend. My chest tightened, and I felt like I was about to explode.

My stomach twisted, and for a second, I thought I might be sick right there in the hallway. All those years, all those promises—

It meant nothing to them.

My coworker pulled out his wrench and tsk-tsked. The clink of metal echoed in the hallway.

He was a big guy, always quick with a joke. But today, he just shook his head and grinned, like he was watching a reality show. Like this was entertainment instead of someone’s life falling apart.

“Man, these rich folks in Maple Heights really know how to have fun. Messing around in the elevator till it jams—jeez.”

He nudged me, eyebrows waggling. “Can you believe it? Some people really live in a different world.” I just stared at him, wishing I could be anywhere else.

“Yeah, that’s the kind of thing guys like us only see in movies.”

He laughed, a little too loud, like he was trying to fill the awkward silence. I just stared at the elevator doors, wishing I could disappear. My skin crawled.

When I didn’t say anything, my coworker nudged my arm again.

“I’m telling you, I got a good look—she’s got a killer body. If I had that kind of money, I’d want to play like that too.” He grinned, oblivious. I felt my jaw clench.

He didn’t know, of course. He couldn’t have known. But every word felt like someone grinding salt into an open cut. I forced myself to keep breathing, swallowing the taste of blood and bitterness.

I forced a smile.

“Yeah, that guy sure is lucky.”

My voice sounded hollow, fake. I wondered if he noticed. Probably not. People only see what they want to see. I felt like I was fading right in front of him.

My fingers dug into my palm. How ironic. Back then, to keep my wife out of trouble, I’d worked as the accountant at her family’s company and took the fall for her tax mess. I never thought it would come back to haunt me like this.

I could still remember the day the feds came knocking, the way Jessica’s hands trembled as she begged me to protect her. I signed those papers without a second thought. I thought I was doing the right thing—being the hero. Turns out… heroes just get left behind.

Before I went to prison, Jessica had gripped my hand tight and told me that having me was the greatest luck of her life, that she’d wait for me, no matter how long it took.

She cried, mascara running down her cheeks, swore up and down she’d wait forever. She kissed my knuckles and promised the world. I held onto those words like a lifeline. During the worst nights inside, those promises kept me breathing.

But in those seven years, she never came to see me. Not even a single letter. Did she even remember I existed?

Every mail call, I waited. Every visitor’s day, I hoped. But she never showed. Not once. The silence hurt more than any sentence ever could. It felt like being buried alive.

I numbly fixed the elevator, making sure to avoid Jessica and Tyler’s eyes. My hands worked on autopilot, screwing bolts and checking wires. I kept my head down, praying they wouldn’t recognize me. My heart thudded in my chest, but I kept moving. I felt invisible, and maybe that was for the best.

She chirped at me, all sweet and syrupy:

“Thank you so much, sir.”

Her voice was so bright, so fake. Like I was just another nameless worker to her. Three years of marriage, and she couldn’t even see me standing right in front of her.

She didn’t recognize me at all. Three years of marriage, and she couldn’t pick me out—and yeah, I was wearing a mask, but she didn’t even look at my eyes.

I realized then that I’d always been invisible to her, just a shadow in her perfect little life. That realization hit hard. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Turns out she’d never cared about me.

That truth settled in my chest, heavy and cold. Maybe I’d always known, deep down. Maybe I just didn’t want to admit it.

Giving up my career for her—maybe it really wasn’t worth it. My gut twisted, shame burning in my stomach.

I’d sacrificed everything, and for what? A woman who couldn’t even remember the color of my eyes. I felt like a fool. My throat tightened.

My phone kept lighting up. Business leaders who knew I’d gotten out of prison were reaching out again. Each buzz felt like a lifeline thrown into the darkness.

Turns out, news travels fast. Old contacts, people I’d once helped, were suddenly eager to bring me back into the fold. My phone buzzed nonstop, each message a reminder. Maybe I still had a future. Maybe I wasn’t finished yet.

[Zach, won’t you reconsider working with me? Name your salary, take time off whenever you want.]

I stared at the screen, disbelief warring with hope. For the first time in years, I felt something flicker. Hope, maybe.

This time, I didn’t turn them down. I let myself believe things could change.

No more loyalty to people who didn’t deserve it. I was ready to take back my life, piece by piece. My chest felt lighter, just for a moment.

[I’ll finish up things here and come find you. Give me three days.]

I hit send, my hands steadier than they’d been in years. Three days. That was all I needed. For the first time in ages, I felt a sliver of hope.

Jessica walked off with Tyler’s arm in hers. At the same time, I got a new message on my phone. I watched them go, my heart a tangled mess.

They looked like the perfect couple, laughing as they disappeared down the hallway. My phone buzzed again, dragging me back to reality. I stared at the screen, feeling the ache of what I’d lost.

[Zach, I’ll be home late tonight, something came up. Can you pick up Henry? Love you so much, mwah.]

Her texts hadn’t changed—still full of hearts and kisses, as if nothing had happened. I stared at the screen, wondering if she sent the same message to Tyler. The thought made my stomach turn.

Henry was the child Jessica had supposedly adopted during those seven years, without telling me. But every time I looked at his face—so much like Tyler’s—I couldn’t help but feel a surge of suspicion. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

His eyes, his smile—even the way he laughed reminded me of Tyler. I tried to brush it off, but the doubt gnawed at me, night after night. Sleep was hard to come by.

Was this kid really adopted?

I wanted to believe her, but the evidence was right there, staring me in the face. Sometimes, the truth hurts more than any lie. I felt it in my bones.

But deep down, I still loved Jessica. We’d been together since college, all the way to marriage. How could she humiliate me like this? The question echoed in my mind, sharp and bitter.

I clung to the memories—the late-night talks, the promises whispered in the dark. I wanted to believe there was still something worth saving. Maybe I was just fooling myself.

No, I had to be overthinking it. I couldn’t let suspicion eat me alive.

I shook my head, trying to push the doubts away. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe it was all just a terrible coincidence. But the feeling wouldn’t leave me.