I've finally gotten my wish after loving Christopher Lausten for four years. However, that's when his true love returns…

I married Christopher Lausten during my first year of graduate school. Once we left City Hall, he rushed back to take care of his company while I returned to my studies.

Months passed without us seeing each other until winter break finally rolled around. I couldn't contain my excitement as I hauled my heavy suitcase to his place.

But when the door swung open, I was met by a gorgeous woman. She eyed me suspiciously before asking, "Who are you?"

Before I could answer, Christopher appeared behind her. His expression was conflicted as he jumped in, "She's my relative and will be staying over for a while."

I tried to speak, but the words got caught in my throat, thick and suffocating like a lump of cotton. His cold, oppressive stare met mine, and I was forced to swallow the words I wished I could say—"I'm his wife."

After hesitating, I dropped my gaze and muttered, "Sorry to bother you."

She exhaled in relief, though the hostility in her eyes remained. Each word underscored her claim on Christopher. "Hello. I'm Chris' girlfriend, Roxanne Lind."

I replied with a dry, raspy hum.

She didn't need to say her name. Two years ago, I'd learned about her, the woman Christopher had spent his youth longing for and could never let go of.

I first met Christopher through my close friend, Zoe Lausten, during my freshman year. He was her uncle.

I'd secretly admired him for two years before Zoe told me that Christopher's heart belonged to someone else—a love he couldn't have. He remained single at 27, and Roxanne was probably the reason why.

Zoe hadn't told me about that at first. She said Christopher seemed to treat me differently and worried that bringing up Roxanne might push me away.

But honestly, I would've been fine. Back then, my feelings for him were unshaken by doubts. I wouldn't have given up even if I'd known about Roxanne.

I naively thought Christopher needed more time to let go, and I was willing to wait. But I never imagined it would stretch into two years.

In those years, he brought me gifts and returned from trips abroad with cool stuff for me. When I was curled up in agony from menstrual cramps, he gave up a deal worth tens of millions just to bring me Ibuprofen and chamomile tea.

Christopher was great to me, but he always overlooked my feelings for him. When I was accepted into a graduate program in my final year, I knew our relationship didn't have a future.

On our last meeting, we returned to the same diner where we'd first met. I was finally over it.

Smiling, I said with a hint of humor, "I'm off to Jaskleton for grad school, Christopher. Congrats—you're finally free of a nuisance like me."

I tried to sound casual, but my voice grew heavy. "I'm sorry for being such a burden these last four years."

Unexpectedly, he pulled out a ring. "Will you marry me, Willow Sweeney?"

The answer was undoubtedly yes. I didn't question his reasons. I simply believed my perseverance had finally paid off.

Shortly after we got married, graduate school began. Christopher threw himself into running his company, and I left for Jaskleton.

Eager to see him sooner, I pulled several all-nighters, finishing the assignments from my advisor, Professor Tate, well in advance. But when I finally arrived at his place, my dream shattered before my eyes.

I knew I should feel angry, demand an explanation, or even lash out, but I couldn't. Deep down, I felt like I didn't have the right.

I'd sensed from the beginning there was more to this marriage. A part of me had always been too scared to dig deeper. I was afraid Christopher might regret everything if I did.

I just never thought my worst fears would be confirmed so soon.

While I was lost in thought, Christopher grabbed my heavy suitcase and led me to a guest room beside his bedroom. He set my things down but didn't leave right away.

Exhaustion hit me like a wave, and I just wanted some peace to lie down.

So, I gently asked him to go. "Your girlfriend is waiting for you outside, Mr. Lausten."

He paused, his deep-set eyes lingering on me for what felt like forever. Then, he finally said, "Roxanne is not my girlfriend."

But whether she was or wasn't didn't matter anymore. It all became irrelevant the moment she moved into his house and when he refused to admit who I was to him.

I forced a hollow smile, though bitterness prickled at the edges.

"Christopher, why did you marry me if you can't let Roxanne go?" I sighed before adding, "Let's just get a divorce."

His brows drew together sharply, his expression darkening with disapproval.

"Stop being ridiculous," he said, irritation lacing his tone. "Just give me some time. I'll take care of this."

I didn't respond.

Silence stretched between us. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. If Christopher were capable of handling it, he wouldn't still be caught between me and Roxanne.

Fortunately, Roxanne's sudden arrival broke our standoff. She breezed into the room with a smile, casually looping her arm through Christopher's.

"What are you doing in here?" she teased. "Come help me in the kitchen—we have a guest to entertain."

Her tone dripped with false sweetness, but the way she emphasized "guest" wasn't lost on me. She shot me a pointed look, warning me to know my place.

At last, Christopher turned to Roxanne but remained still. He freed his arm from her grasp, his voice suddenly icy. "We are not a couple."

His words felt like they were meant for me.

Roxanne's expression flickered, a mix of embarrassment and defiance flashing across her face. She quickly recovered and let out a dramatic huff before whining, "We will be soon!"

Without warning, she leaned in and kissed Christopher. I couldn't tell whether he was too slow to respond, but he didn't move away. He was in a daze until she dragged him out of the room.

Bitterness rose in my heart, but I wasn't surprised. This was Christopher—always swinging between extremes. One moment, he'd push me away, and the next, he'd defend me as if nothing had happened.

His contradictions were the reason I couldn't fully let go. But maybe, this time, I'd finally leave him behind for good.

After they left, I didn't feel much of anything. Exhaustion weighed me down, and I drifted into a deep sleep.

Christopher knocked a few times, calling me to join them for dinner, but I was too tired to care. I muttered something dismissive and stayed in bed.

When I finally woke, the sky outside was pitch-black, and the villa was dark. The only sound was Roxanne's tinkling laughter echoing from downstairs.

"Do I look good, Christopher? Ugh, you're so clumsy! Hold this. I'll take the photo," she said.

Christopher's voice, deep and husky, was startlingly clear in the stillness of the night. "Sure, anything you want."

The hunger pangs hit me, so I decided to head downstairs to grab something from the fridge. The front door was left wide open. I could see them clearly in the yard.

Christopher was holding a sparkler, the light softly illuminating his face as Roxanne fussed over, positioning him just right for a photo. His eyes were full of quiet indulgence.

I must have made a sound because Roxanne turned around, her eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction.

She called out, "Want to join us, Willow? Chris just took a ton of pictures of me, and they're lovely!"

Since we were a little apart, I raised my voice to answer, "No, thanks."

But she wasn't letting it go. She headed straight toward me, sparkler in hand.

A sense of unease curled in my stomach. And then, just as I feared, she stumbled, and the burning tip of the sparkler lurched toward my face. I quickly dodged, but it still singed my right ear.

Roxanne and I both cried out sharply.

Christopher rushed over and wrapped her in his arms, his voice heavy with concern. "Are you hurt?"

Roxanne shook her head, a look of sorrow in her eyes.

"I'm fine. I just tripped over something," she murmured, casting a quick glance in my direction.

It didn't take Christopher long to piece things together. He looked up at me, his gaze sharp with accusation. "Quit the dirty tricks, Willow."

I pressed my hand against my aching ear and fixed him with a cold stare.

After a beat, Christopher seemed to sense something was wrong. "What happened to your—"

"Deal with the matter I brought up today quickly, Christopher," I cut him off, my expression neutral. "You were right about one thing, though—Roxanne's tactics are dirty."

Without hesitation, I turned on my heel and walked away.

Back in my room, I ran cold water over my ear. Fortunately, it was just a small scrape. When I checked my phone, I noticed a string of WhatsApp messages from Professor Tate.

"Have you made a decision yet? Are you interested in joining this project?

"It's a rare opportunity that could greatly benefit your academic career and future prospects."

He was talking about the research project he was leading—one that wasn't typically open to graduate students. After recognizing my potential, he made an exception and extended me the offer.

The downside was that the project would last two years, and I wouldn't be able to go anywhere else in the meantime.

Back then, I'd turned him down without a second thought. I had just married Christopher, and there was still much to do. I needed time.

Professor Tate wasn't bothered by my refusal and asked me to reconsider. Now, he'd messaged me again.

I knew exactly what to reply. "I've made my decision, Professor Tate. I'll join the project once my break ends."

It had been four years. It was time to move forward. The moment I hit "send", a knock sounded at the door.

Christopher's voice followed. "Willow, it's me."

I didn't want to see him, not now.

"What do you need?" I asked through the door.

"I brought some ointment for your burn," he said.

I couldn't be bothered to argue, so I simply said, "I don't need it. Please go."

But he opened the door and stepped inside. Before I knew it, he squeezed a dab of ointment onto his finger and gently smoothed it over my burned skin.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked.

I frowned, brushing past his concern, and cut to the chase. "Let's set a date and go to the courthouse, Christopher."

He pulled me into an embrace. His voice came out muffled, with a hint of hurt. "I told you I'd handle this."

I shoved him back, giving him a mocking stare. "Are you trying to fool me or yourself? If you truly wanted to handle this, you'd stand by me, get rid of Roxanne for my sake. Instead, you're making empty promises and putting all the blame on me."

Christopher avoided my gaze and said nothing. It didn't take long before Roxanne called for him, and he left without a word.

I let out a bitter laugh. I should've seen this coming from the start.

That night, I began packing my belongings, determined to move out within two days. I avoided them as much as possible, but Roxanne still came to me.

She approached with a sneer, her eyes brimming with disdain. "You've got quite the knack for playing the innocent houseguest, haven't you? Staying over for a while? Please. It's obvious you're angling to take over my place.

"Sadly, Christopher will never have feelings for you. Quit going after someone else's guy, or you'll end up hurting yourself and others."