"I, Nina Crawford, hereby solemnly apologize to my husband, Charles Carter, and his secretary, Jessica Holmes."

I read each word into the phone camera. "I shouldn't have interrupted the intimate moment between my husband, Charles Carter, and his secretary, Jessica Holmes, when I found them embracing and kissing in his office."

"Mr. Charles Carter and Ms. Jessica Holmes share a true and genuine love. I should never have exposed Mr. Carter's marital infidelity or Ms. Holmes's role as a homewrecker to the public."

The moment I posted the video, likes and comments flooded in. My follower count climbed in real time.

I stopped watching the numbers, turned off my phone, and went back to compiling evidence of Charles's spending on Jessica.

Charles and I had been married for five years. If I hadn't shown up at his office that day and caught them together, I might still have no idea how long he'd been lying to me.

The more I examined those records, the more I realized how little our five years together meant to him.

Over five years, Charles had spent nearly two million dollars on Jessica Holmes.

Hotel suites for two. Luxury purchases. My fingers started trembling as I scrolled.

There was a designer bag I'd had my eye on once. I was going to buy it with my own savings, but Charles told me to hold off—said times were tight.

"Nina, you know the company's struggling right now. Skip the bag, okay? Put the money toward bills instead—it'll take some pressure off me."

He sounded so sincere that I just felt sorry for him. So for five years of marriage, I almost never asked Charles for money.

Staring at those records now, I felt like the world's biggest fool.

"The money you won't spend on yourself will always find its way to someone else." My best friend had warned me once, after hearing I never asked Charles for a dime.

But I was so sure. "No way. Charles and I have been together too long. I trust him."

As I kept scrolling, I discovered Charles had made large transfers on nearly every holiday—Valentine's Day, their "anniversary," Christmas. Romantic amounts. Deliberate amounts.

Every single one sent to Jessica Holmes.

I forced myself to stay calm. Screenshot. Save. Screenshot. Save.

But I couldn't stop thinking—in five years of marriage, whether it was our anniversary or Valentine's Day, I'd never once received anything like this.

In the beginning, I'd still ask, "Where's my gift?" He'd wave me off. "We're past that stage, babe. Those little holidays are for people who are still dating."

"Besides, I'm already yours. So is my money. Why bother moving it from one pocket to another?"

Back then, I'd laughed it off. Figured he was just an unromantic guy.

But these records told a different story. Charles was perfectly capable of romance. He just never thought I was worth the effort.

"Nina Crawford!"

My phone kept buzzing. Charles's name flashing on screen.

I suppressed my anger and answered. An enraged roar hit my ear immediately. "Nina Crawford, delete that video right now! Do you have any idea how many people have already seen it?!"

It took me a second to realize he meant the apology video I'd just posted. "Why would I delete it? The judge ruled yesterday that I have to publicly apologize for fifteen days. This is day one."

Charles sputtered. "Are you out of your mind? Who told you to post it online?"

"Isn't that what 'public apology' means?" I said, feigning innocence.

"I don't care—delete it! Now!" He hung up.

I checked my account. The flood of notifications actually lagged my phone for a second.

It had only been an hour. Likes had already passed a hundred thousand—and were still climbing.

I scrolled through the comments—tens of thousands already. The top ones made me smile. "This made me cry—Mr. Charles Carter and Ms. Jessica Holmes's earth-shattering love is truly moving 😭"

"The affair between Charles Carter and Jessica Holmes is so legendary it's reached the North Pole."

"The court actually made the WIFE apologize? This world is insane."

"Only day one? She should do this for a whole year."

I scrolled further. It wasn't just strangers watching—people I actually knew had found the video too.

Someone had posted the name and address of Charles's company. That comment alone had over ten thousand likes.

No wonder he'd been so frantic on the phone.

I glanced at the soaring numbers, then used Charles's credit card to buy another round of promoted traffic. While I was at it, I paid a few influencer accounts to repost the video.

Charles's company was preparing for its IPO. I was curious to see how smoothly that would go now.

Forced Apology: Fifteen Days of His Downfall — Chapter 4

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