The Diary of Betrayal

Tonight was Mason Collins' company anniversary party; the crystal chandelier lit the ballroom as bright as day. I wore an off-white gown, linking arms with my husband, Mason Collins. Just as we reached the dessert table, I heard a familiar laugh. Turning my head, I saw Maggie Young holding a champagne glass, standing amid the crowd. Mason's arm stiffened instinctively beneath mine. "You're here?" Maggie smiled as she approached us, her eyes settling first on Mason. "Mason, I knew you'd wear that dark gray suit tonight. You said last time that fabric makes you look sharp." Mason tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Not bad." My fingers tightened around the wine glass; I said nothing. Maggie, as if she hadn't noticed my expression, continued speaking to those around her, "Mason and I have been like this since we were kids. So many things don't need to be said aloud to be understood." Maggie said to the group, "Last time he worked late until dawn, I specially made his favorite rib porridge and brought it to him. When he saw it, he smiled and said he was just thinking about it." Someone jeered, "The chemistry between Maggie and Mr. Collins really can't be matched by anyone else." Maggie's smile deepened, and as her gaze swept over me, it held a sharp edge of provocation: "Actually, it's nothing significant. Mainly, we've known each other for so many years." Maggie's eyes swept over me, laced with a hint of provocation: "Unlike some people, even after marriage, they might not really know what Mason truly needs." I finally couldn't hold it back any longer. "Maggie, what Mason needs right now is to eat a piece of cake with me. Excuse us." I grabbed Mason, trying to leave, but Maggie reached out and caught his arm. "Don't be in such a hurry to leave," she said lightly, but with an unsettling certainty. "Last time when Reagan miscarried, I was the first person Mason reached out to, wasn't I?" Her voice was light but carried an unsettling certainty: "He was so miserable back then, dragging me into conversation all night, saying his heart felt so clogged." The surrounding voices instantly quieted; all eyes locked onto me. I felt the blood rush to my head before freezing in place. Mason frowned, pushing Maggie's hand away. "Maggie, don't say nonsense." "What nonsense am I saying?" Maggie looked at Mason with a hurt expression. "That day, you clearly said Reagan had just been through that ordeal, her emotions were unstable, you didn't dare speak to her much, and could only confide in me." I looked at Mason, my voice trembling, "Is what she said true?" Mason avoided my gaze, whispering, "I was too impatient that day. Maggie is an old friend—I just wanted to talk to her to ease my mind." "So you could turn my most painful moments into some bragging story about your 'understanding' with her?" I gripped Mason's wrist so tightly my nails nearly dug into his skin. Maggie tried to speak again, but Mason cut her off first: "Maggie, why don't you go over there for a while? I need to speak with Reagan." Maggie Young curled her lip and even shot me a raised eyebrow before leaving. I shook off Mason Collins' hand and stepped back. "Mason, do you think my miscarriage means nothing?" "It's not like that," Mason stepped forward, trying to grasp my hand. "I was hurting too back then. I just didn't know how to say it to you." "You didn't know how to say it to me, yet you spent the whole night pouring your heart out to your childhood friend?" I looked at him, suddenly seeing a stranger in the man before me. "Mason, what exactly do you take me for?"