Emily's POV

The city blurred past me, every streetlight remembered fleetingly one life of the existence I thought I was supposed to be having. I was going home, but it was more of a prison now than anything else.

The moment I unlocked the front door of our home, the whole weight of the world crumbled. I dropped my keys on the counter and suddenly collapsed to the floor to let my tears flow freely.

Memories washed my brain, over the years trying to mud myself as the perfect wife for a man who could not love me the way I deserved. I had changed my wardrobe, changed habits, and everything about me that he thought was unworthy.

I used to wear vibrant, flirty dresses that made me feel alive, but he said they were drawing too much attention. I usually wear them to try and please him, now I wear shabby outfits that again feel like a second skin, suffocating me.

Rachel, the one he seems to find irresistible now, wearing the same clothes I had thrown away. It is as though I threw away my identity for a man whom I am now being betrayed by with my sister, The point hit me directly to the heart.

I thought having a baby would finally complete our family, I was going to tell him tonight but after what I saw, I guess not.

I have made a decision, I picked up my phone and called my best friend, I could hardly even get words out through my sobs, but she would always understand me, my lifeline in these troubled waters.

"I have tried so hard in this marriage," I choked out, "but he is having an affair with my sister."

Her silence was deafening. I could sense, though I couldn't tell if it was a reaction to what she heard or the fact that my sister was also involved in the affair.

"For how long?" she asked finally, and I could only shake my head; it felt like everything was crumbling beneath my feet. "It's been ever since we got married," I sobbed, every word tearing at my throat like glass. I was done with this. "I want a divorce."

It almost felt like a relief having the words out, quickly overshadowed by its meaning. "But he won't allow me to go, because he is going to lose the most, His father offered to give him a 30 percent share of the company as long as he stays with me"

"You need to leave without him knowing," she suggested with a glimpse of hope in me.

"Is that even possible?"

"Yes, I can arrange it for you," she assured me, and just like that gratitude flooded me. I thanked her as my heart raced under the thoughts of freedom.

It was morning with a headache and waves of nausea. Think of breathing, of clarity. I stuffed a small bag with barely enough to escape without raising suspicions and headed to the kitchen to make lunch.

I heard the door crack open and automatically knew he was the one. The moment he entered, he stopped in his tracks. The table looked astonishingly well laid out, a royal feast spread on it. I had to do my best in acting, even while my heart cried out.

He expected fury, I was all apology. "I shouldn't have slapped Rachel," I said, amazing myself at my calmness.

Nathan's eyes opened wide, and I could see the play of confusion on his face. "I know but You have to apologize to Rachel, and everyone else,"

Nathan said, and I answered him, "No problem." I watched as Nathan relaxed, perhaps thinking I was finally going to obey his perfect wife image.

Breakfast was nearly enjoyable, especially when I presented Nathan with his birthday present. "I'll check it later," he said casually. Marking time presently on his way to the shower. His aroma wafted in the air, mixing with a faint trace of Rachel's perfume.

The moment he left my cell phone buzzed. It was from my best friend, Jane "Everything is settled. Just get ready for your flight." My heart fluttered as I even thought about leaving this life behind. I listened closely as she explained the entire detail, and nodded along.

Nathan's Pov

I climbed the stairs with the faint sounds of Emily's chatter still audible through the closed door as she talked to her best friend. I was now in the bedroom, with a head full of ideas. The present she had given me lay in my palm, weightless and meaningless. The last thing I expected her to be was collected and warm even that much earlier.

She had slapped Rachel. I knew Emily was not one to resort to violence, but she had enough reasons to be very furious. I had been cruel, dismissive, and paraded. Yet here was a smiling Emily, a birthday gift in hand for me as though I deserved it.

I tossed the gift onto the bed without even looking back at it. It landed with a thud, and I just left it unopened. What could it be? Probably one of those cheap belts? A pair of socks? Something dull and unimaginative, I bet. My thoughts turned to Rachel.

She was the very antithesis of Emily in many aspects: the fire, the passion, the boldness. Nights spent with her were necessarily unforgettable and intoxicating, I couldn't help but think of Rachel as the spontaneous, exciting type who was quite adept at keeping a person like me on edge. Though in contrast, Emily? Predictability. Obedience. Boring.

Yet, here I sat on the bed, trapped by memories of a father who had coerced Emily down my throat. It was far more Rachel, wild and irresistible, whom I'd want, but to him, she was deemed reckless—a stain on the reputation of the family. Emily, obedient and polished, fitted his vision.

When I refused, he dropped the bombshell that I was illegitimate, and this was my only way into the family fortune: marry Emily. The plan was simple—marry her, and get 30 percent of the company share, even if the shares were in her name and not mine.

"A gift?" Rachel chuckled. "What's in it?"

"Who cares? I threw it to the side. Probably some useless junk."

Rachel laughed again, her amusement grating and comforting all at once. "You're unbelievable. Anyway, I'll see you later."

I ended the call without another word and headed for the shower. The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the day's grime but not the irritation lingering beneath my skin. I got dressed and went downstairs.

Emily was still chatting with her friend when I interrupted, my tone clipped. "I'm heading out. I'll be back for dinner. Make sure it's ready."

She gazed at me, her face betraying no expression. "Don't bother," she said, "I'll manage everything."

That only aggravated me more, and without a word further, I beat a path to the office.

By the time I got there, the board was already in session. They didn't bother waiting for me. I hung out outside, fuming as the sounds of muted voices echoed from the conference room. Finally, my father walked out all commanding and grand into the world.

"Nathan," he barked. "My office now."

I followed him, ready for the blow to hit.

"You useless filthy thing," he said behind the shut door and added, "Do you know how embarrassing it is to have you as a son? At least thank God that you are not a legitimate son so I can still say that my real heir is not a complete failure."

He leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a sneer. "Your brother, Richard, now that's a man who knows how to get things done. Everything you are not responsible, intelligent, capable. You? You are nothing but a liability."

The words stung, but I covered it with an indifferent attitude. I'd heard this speech a dozen times before.

Once more I leaned back and walked out of there. He called my name to stop me, but I ignored him entirely. The whole drive home, I could feel my face flushing as I gripped the steering wheel; my knuckles turned almost white.

Walking into the house, the first thing to hit me was the silence. There was no cheerful bustle around the house, like Emily cooking in the kitchen or humming softly to herself.

"Emily!" my voice echoed in the emptiness of space.

Nothing.

I walked into the bedroom. Her clothes are still there, but everything else feels twisted. Cursing myself impatiently with each added stair, I started back downstairs. The calm was broken by a knocking on my door outside.

I flung the door wide open, hoping to find Emily on the other side, but instead, I found Rachel with a couple of my colleagues.

Rachel stepped through the door and asked, "What about dinner?" Her voice was bright, but the mocking undertone wasn't lost on me.

"My stupid wife is busy." I slammed the door with an angry shout.

Rachel laughed with a highly sarcastic tone. "Maybe she is working extra hours as a *waiter*."

What she said was a sharp knife cutting through irritation into an angry flush. "She is not working. It isn't time for her shift."

Rachel laughed again. "Well, why don't we go check? Maybe your friends can stay here while we find her."

Nathan finally decided to do the unthinkable, search for Emily out at the restaurant where she works.

Nathan's Pov

I trailed behind Rachel, much slower than she did while getting into the restaurant. It was not a hunger that twisted my insides into knots but sheer embarrassment. This was the first time I had set foot in Emily's place of work.

The loud chatter of the patrons, along with the occasional clanking of cutlery, made the discomfort worse. I did not belong here or rather, I did not want to belong here.

Rachel was scanning the room, then her lips pressed into a thin line. "So, this is where she works?" she asked, the edge in her tone unmistakable.

I nodded but did not answer. My eyes roamed until they landed on a lady in her late 40s who stood behind the counter. She exuded an aura of authority as she held her head up with confidence while directing the staff using quick hand gestures. There could be no misunderstanding. She was the boss.

We went to her Rachel leading. "Excuse me," she said, her voice piercing the ambient noise, "we're looking for Emily."

The woman's eyebrows raised only slightly as her eyes darted between us. "Who are you?" she inquired, polite but firm.

"I'm her husband," I said, tasting bitterness in my mouth because, for the first time, I felt them weigh in.

Her expression flickered for an instant with something perhaps surprise or disdain before she folded her arms across her chest. "Emily isn't here."

Rachel's eyebrows knitted together, "What do you mean she isn't in? She works here!"

"She quit just yesterday," was the simple reply from the woman, as though that were explanation enough.

My heart sank. "Quit?" I repeated, the word heavy on my tongue. "Why didn't she tell me?"

The boss shrugged. "She came in this evening, dropped something off, and said you would come looking for her." She reached under the counter and pulled out a small box, placing it on the counter between us. "She said I should give you this."

Rachel and I exchanged a few words, and I then reached for the box. With that, the boss wiped her hands on her apron. "I have got to get back to work," she said.

We walked out in silence from the restaurant. Each bit of the box felt heavier with every step forward. Once we got back into my car, Rachel put an end to the silence. "What is in there?" she asked, her voice trying to hide a veiled curiosity.

I remained silent for my palms were shaking as I opened the box. A stack of neatly folded papers sat on top. My stomach churned as I unfolded them, revealing the bold words Divorce Petition scrawled across the top. My breath caught.

Rachel leaned in closer. "What is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock innocence. When I didn't answer, she snatched the papers out of my hands. "Divorce?" she shrieked. Then, dropping her voice down to a conspiratorial whisper, "Did you two fight?"

I was ignoring her and my mind was racing. This can't be real. Emily wouldn't just leave. My gaze fell to the box once more, and there beneath the papers was a tiny tape recorder. I grabbed it, plugged it into the car's stereo, and pressed play.

Emily's voice filled the car: on its way to being steady but laced with bitterness I'd never heard before. "Nathan," she'd said. "By the time you hear this, I'm gone. I know about you and Rachel."

My fingers clenched tighter around the steering wheel, jaw tense. To my side, Rachel had gone stiff.

"I know about the lingerie, the one you let her flaunt just before you gift-wrapped it and handed it to me as if it meant something. Do you have a clue as to how humiliating that can get?" It was hard for me to swallow because my throat was dry.

"I had enough, more than what my heart can take. I had enough of all the lies betrayals the disrespect. I deserve better, and this time, I am choosing myself. Stay clear of me, Nathan. Be with Rachel or whoever you want to. I don't care anymore."

The recording cut off, bringing thick silence around. My chest was pumped with anger, just beneath the surface. I turned to Rachel, my vision a crimson haze. "What did you say to her?" I snarled.

Rachel's face widened, hands held up defensively. "I didn't Nathan, I didn't say anything!"

"You're lying!" I roared, hands shooting out before I could stop myself. My fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing as fury consumed me. She gasped, clawing at my hands, her face reddening.

Somewhere at the back of my head, this voice screamed at me to stop. I freed her suddenly, and she collapsed against the seat, coughing and gasping for breath. I stared at her, heaving my chest, my hands shaking.

"What did you tell her?" I yelled again but didn't touch her this time.

"I didn't say anything!" she cried, her voice harsh.

Turning away, I ran a hand through my hair because my mind was in turmoil imagining what all Emily had done. The divorce meant everything—*everything*—was slipping between my fingers.

"You just don't understand," I spat between shaking breaths. "With Emily gone, I lose everything. The deal with my dad, even the 30 percent share is all in her name!" 

Rachel just sat there, bloodshot eyes filled up with tears and spilling them over her cheeks, but I didn't give a damn. The world was falling apart, and the pieces slipped through my fingers. 

Emily was out of reach. All I had were regrets.