Chapter 3

The second Lauren White spotted me sitting in the living room, her eyes welled up so fast it was almost comical—like her entire world had just crumbled to dust.

"Why is she here? You said this place was ours!

"Were you lying to me? You haven't let go of her yet, have you?

"I love you, but I'd never throw away my self-respect to be some side chick. I'm out of here—right now!" She snapped, turning to storm off like she was doing him a favor.

James practically tripped over his own feet to stop her, yanking her tight against his chest like she might vanish into thin air if he let go.

"Baby, don't be ridiculous. Our marriage license is official, signed and sealed. You're my wife, so this is our home. She's just here to grab her stuff and leave."

He glanced at me, no explanation, no apology, not even a shred of guilt.

"Emily, the Westside apartment's available and quiet. Why don't you stay there for a while?"

My mind went completely blank—like someone had hit a reset button.

Anger didn't even register yet; all I felt was a heavy, crushing ache in my chest.

When we first moved into this villa three years ago, James had held me close, his eyes glistening with emotion.

"Emily, this is our home now. Just you, me, and the kids we'll have someday. I'll never let you down."

But the man who once promised me forever...

Three years to the day after he gave me this "home," he was kicking me to the curb like a stray dog.

"Emily, my wife's upset. Don't make me say it again."

He wore a smile, but his tone was low and deadly, no joke, just a straight-up threat.

A sour, heavy lump filled my throat, like it was clogged with waterlogged cotton.

In a daze, I realized he meant every word.

After a long, heavy silence, I nodded, my voice barely a breath, surrendering to his cruel confidence.

"Fine," I murmured.

James watched me stand, his gaze flicking up and down like he was sizing me up. Suddenly, he stepped over and grabbed my arm, his voice softening just a little—another act, another trick.

"There's a charity banquet this afternoon. You're coming with me."

I opened my mouth to say hell no, but he cut me off mid-sentence.

"Lauren's never been to a fancy shindig like this. Show her how to carry herself, make sure she looks the part—like a real wife."

I stared at him, dumbfounded—it was so absurd, so humiliating, I almost laughed out loud.

But I knew my time here was running out, so I didn't bother fighting.

Before the banquet, Lauren claimed she had nothing nice enough to wear—total lie, but James ate it up.

She marched straight into my closet and grabbed the most expensive birthday gift James had ever given me: a custom designer dress worth millions of dollars, plus the full set of jewelry to match.

Lauren clung to James' arm like a trophy, while I followed behind her, holding her train like a lowly maid. Together, we became the main show at the banquet—everyone's favorite joke.

Guests' snickers and nasty whispers clung to me like dirt, following every step I took.

"Mr. Carter really knows how to string women along—his wife is holding the train for his mistress, and she can't even fight back. Pathetic." Someone snickered, loud enough for me to hear.

"Wife? Please. Everyone knows he legally married his mistress. Emily's just a used-up nobody after ten years. She's nothing—zip, zero, zilch."

"How stupid do you have to be to get nothing after ten years? What a fool. Living like some worthless trash—she'd be better off dead."

I couldn't take it anymore. I sprinted out of the banquet hall and hid in the bathroom, locking the door behind me like it could keep the cruelty out.

But even behind closed doors, I could hear guys teasing James, their voices loud and mocking.

"James, you were with Emily for a decade. You really tied the knot with this Lauren chick? You're out of your mind."

"She wanted security, that's all. It's just a piece of paper—doesn't change a thing." James replied casually.

"You won't regret it if Emily walks for good?"

My heart clenched so tight it hurt. Then I heard him laugh—loud, cruel, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Emily's whole world revolves around me. After ten years, I broke her—she's nothing but a worn-out, dirty rag now. She can't survive without me.

"I know her inside and out. No matter how bad I treat her, she'll still be right there, waiting like a lost puppy."

The rest blurred into static—I couldn't bear to listen anymore.

I stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on my face, then bit down hard on my hand to keep from screaming—screaming until my throat was raw, screaming until he heard me.

Tears of shame mixed with the water as they dripped into the sink, but I didn't make a sound. No more tears, no more weakness.

This time, James, you messed up big time.

The rag you threw away? She wouldn't wait for you anymore. Not ever.