He Swore He Hated Seafood, So Why Did His Lips Taste Like Oysters? - Chapter 87: Chapter 87

Ryan and I were college sweethearts.
He was already a campus legend back then—not just for his perfect grades, but for that devastatingly handsome face of his.
He was the cream of the crop among intellectuals, and after graduation, he became a standout success in the business world.
Throughout his rise to the top, plenty of women threw themselves at him.
But he stayed faithful, like some kind of saint who'd sworn off everyone but me, only showing his tender side when we were alone.
Everything pointed to him being the perfect, devoted husband.
So when it all came crashing down because of Maria, I couldn't wrap my head around it.
She was just some ordinary woman from a small town, with a kid about to start middle school and a husband who worked construction out of state.
She barely had a high school education, but she spoke softly and politely. She had a plain face, except for those eyes that seemed way too innocent for a woman her age.
When I first met her, her meek, timid act actually annoyed me.
She had this thing where she'd always play small and helpless, like she was begging for sympathy.
In the past, if someone had tried to compare me to her, I would've thought they'd lost their mind.
But lately, I'd been going crazy, constantly second-guessing myself and somehow putting us on the same level.
And I couldn't figure out why.
"Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Ryan's angry voice cut through the silence.
Meanwhile, Maria's face had turned red, like she was embarrassed.
"Mrs. Thompson, please don't be upset. Let me clean this up and make you something fresh right away—"
She knelt down and started carefully picking up the broken china, but cut her hand on a sharp piece.
The moment blood appeared, Ryan—who was usually so composed—suddenly frowned and rushed over to take her hand.
"Leave it. I'll have someone else clean up. Let's get that bandaged first."
Their hands intertwined, and it was like a knife to my gut.
Without saying a word, I pulled out my phone and aimed it at them, making sure to get a perfect shot of her cleavage in that low-cut dress.
Click.
Maria's face filled with panic and hurt. Ryan's expression turned thunderous.
"Elena, what the hell are you doing?"
I posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:" This stylish middle-aged woman is more sexual than me—no wonder her husband dotes on her so much."
I waved my phone screen at them.
"Nothing wrong with sharing a little slice of life, right?"
For the first time ever, I saw Ryan's face go completely dark.
He knew exactly who followed my Instagram.
Not just my friends, but everyone in our social circle. As the daughter of the Harrison family, my followers weren't exactly nobodies.
"Have you lost your damn mind? Delete that and apologize right now!"
I let out a bitter laugh, completely ignoring his demand. "Let me ask you again—how many times have you slept with her?"
Maria suddenly burst into tears, biting her lip as she sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Thompson..."
She kept apologizing over and over, which was basically her admitting everything without actually saying it.
Ryan's face grew even darker as he stepped protectively in front of her.
"Just because she's had a few good breakfasts with me, you're gonna make these nasty assumptions about her?"
"She's a woman too, and even older women have the right to dress nicely. Besides, it's her birthday today!"
"Elena, you have a real talent for humiliating people."
Ryan was a businessman—he knew exactly how to play the moral high ground card to make people feel guilty.
But I wasn't the type to spiral into self-doubt because of someone else's words.
I was just still in shock that he was willing to stand against me for Maria's sake.
Like a gambler going all in, I made my final bet.
"Ryan, I'm giving you one last chance."
"Get rid of her, or we're getting divorced."