Betrayed by the One I Loved

My husband, Damien, loved me deeply—so deeply it felt like I was his whole world. Everyone said he was the perfect husband.

Yet, he betrayed me.

Not once, not twice, but three times.

The first time was three years ago. His closest friend, Aaron, died saving him. Damien kept it from me and secretly married Aaron’s girlfriend, Vivian—on paper.

I was heartbroken and ready to leave him. That night, he sent her abroad and fell to his knees, begging me.

“Estelle, Aaron gave his life for me. I must take care of his widow. That marriage certificate is just a promise of security for Vivian. Once I’ve avenged Aaron, I’ll divorce her. The only woman I love is you.”

I forgave him.

The second time came the following year. At a press conference, Damien publicly introduced Vivian as the Mafia leader’s wife.

He pulled me aside to explain.

“Vivian is the only daughter of the Young family—the Mafia. Our two families joined forces for one reason only: to get revenge for Aaron. I’ve already made arrangements with her. Once we’ve dealt with our enemies, I’ll divorce her and marry you right away.”

Once again, I believed him.

Then came the third time. Someone drugged Damien at a banquet, and he spent the night with Vivian. He hid it from me until just two weeks ago, when I caught him at the hospital, sitting beside her during a prenatal checkup.

That was when I finally learned the truth.

He lowered his head, unable to meet my eyes, and spoke in a low voice.

“Estelle, it was an accident. Once she gives birth, I’ll send her away. My parents will raise the child, and I swear—neither of them will ever appear in your life again.”

In the name of love, Damien pushed me to compromise again and again.

Yet now I know.

There’s no future left for us.

It’s time for me to walk away.

“Damien…”

A startled cry rang out behind me. Vivian clutched her belly, her face contorted in pain.

Damien froze. Then, without hesitation, he pushed me aside and rushed to scoop her into his arms.

Caught off guard, I stumbled, slamming my shoulder into the wall. The jolt of pain brought tears to my eyes.

As he gently soothed Vivian, Damien glanced back at me, his expression tense.

“Estelle, Vivian’s condition is serious. I need to get her to the doctor. Please head home first. I’ll explain everything later!”

Without another word, he carried her into the infirmary, shouting for a doctor as he ran.

I leaned against the wall, tears spilling down my cheeks.

A life-saving debt. Her status as his publicly acknowledged wife. And now, the child growing inside her.

Damien, you were never going to let Vivian go.

How could there possibly be a future for us?

I dragged myself out of the hospital, got into the car, and slumped weakly into the seat.

The driver asked cautiously, “Madam, should I take you back to the villa?”

I leaned back, completely drained.

“No. Take me to the immigration office first.”

Two hours later, I had my passport and submitted a visa application for Aquinox.

“The visa will take seven days to process. You can collect it in a week,” the clerk said.

“Seven days…” I murmured.

“I’ll cut all ties with Damien in seven days.”

When I returned to the villa, I began packing.

There were so many things. Too many.

Damien traveled often for work, and wherever he went, he brought back gifts—handbags, jewelry, luxury items. Three entire rooms were filled with the things he’d given me.

Every corner of this house held memories of us.

An entire wall was covered with photo booth pictures we took each month. On every anniversary, he gave me a diamond ring. Now, three drawers overflowed with jewelry boxes.

Limited-edition dolls. Rare collectibles. Every item a testament to his love.

Before Vivian came along, I truly believed we would grow old together.

I wiped my tears, then started tearing down the photos one by one, throwing them into the trash.

I boxed up all his gifts and set them aside.

I would return everything to him before I left.

Just as I was sorting my things, I heard a commotion downstairs.

I stepped out into the hallway and looked down over the railing.

The servants were carrying in large boxes of jewelry and luxury goods.

Vivian stood in the living room, gently shaking her head.

“This is too much. I only mentioned I liked them, and you nearly bought out the entire auction house.”

Damien looked down at her, smiling tenderly.

“If it makes you happy, that’s all that matters. A good mood will make your delivery easier.”

Then he looked up and spotted me.

His expression froze.

“Estelle, I’m sorry. Vivian was upset after her appointment, so I took her to the auction to lift her spirits. If there’s anything you want, I’ll take you shopping next time.”

I was quiet for a moment before answering softly.

“You’ve already given me more than enough. Just focus on buying things for Vivian.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Vivian tugged his hand and rubbed her eyes.

“I’m so sleepy. I think the baby wants to rest. Can you help me to the bedroom?”

A flicker of concern crossed his face as he quickly supported her.

“Walk slowly. Don’t trip. Why didn’t you tell me earlier you were tired? What if you fall asleep and hurt yourself?”

He did not spare me another glance as he guided Vivian toward the master bedroom.

A sharp pain pierced my chest.

That bedroom had once been meant for me and Damien. He poured his heart into designing it and told me with solemn tenderness.

“No one else can step foot in here. I want to keep it a secret until our wedding day, when I’ll personally take your hand and bring you into this room.”

In the end, the room he created for me… already belonged to her.