It all started with a bet, a bet George Stanley made with his ex-girlfriend, a bet that allowed Vivian to marry her secret love.

George thought he could always win yet never expected, that losing Vivian would be his biggest regret.

===============

I am still lying on the bed, naked, with his marks all over my body, when he drops those cold words, “Megan is back. I want a divorce.”

I am shocked at how callus he can be. I haven’t told him about my pregnancy yet.

What should I do now?

Will he forget about Megan and carry on with this marriage if I tell him?

“It is clearly stated in the contract that we can end this marriage if we don’t fall in love with each other in a year. I don’t love you, Vivian. You failed to win my heart.”

He says those words with no emotions, looking into my eyes.

I understand I'll never be able to replace Megan in his heart, so I decide to keep my pregnancy a secret from him.

“Let’s divorce then,” I say

============

Vivian thought she would live happily with her baby away from George and his cold, heartless world. But fate had already made a different plan for her.

She ultimately crossed his path.

“You dared to hide my child from me. Now be ready for the consequences.”

When George reappeared in Vivian's life, everything became a tornado of chaos.

How was she going to keep herself and her child away from him? Would she be able to save herself from getting hurt again?

End the marriage

Vivian’s POV…

I stand in the brightly lit hallway of the hospital, clutching the positive pregnancy test in my trembling hands. My heart races with a mix of excitement and disbelief as I gaze down at the life-changing news before me.

A surge of happiness and anticipation courses through my veins, filling me with an indescribable sense of wonder.

With newfound purpose, I walk briskly towards the exit, each step filled with renewed energy and hope. A radiant smile graces my lips, growing wider with each passing moment, as I carry the precious secret within me. It feels as though I'm floating, with the joy in my heart propelling me forward.

This is our first marriage anniversary, and I find out that I am pregnant. I wonder how George will react.

I swiftly take out the phone from my purse and dial his number, my heart leaping to my throat with a mixture of hope and nervousness. Thoughts of our journey together, the shared laughter, and quiet moments of connection flood my mind.

As the phone rings, each passing ring feels like an eternity, amplifying the anticipation that courses through me.

I can barely contain my sheer happiness, knowing that in just a few short moments, I will share the most incredible news of our lives.

But the call goes unanswered, and a flicker of disappointment momentarily clouds my expression.

‘No worries. I will go to his office,’ I murmur to myself, smiling.

‘No, you can’t go there,’ my inner voice whispers.

My smile wanes instantly. I recall George's caution against visiting his office, a reminder that our marriage remains a secret.

Taking a deep breath, I remind myself to be patient and to wait for him to return home.

I long for the moment when I can look into his eyes and share the immense joy that now fills my heart.

"It’s okay. I will go home and cook dinner for him." With renewed hope and excitement, I exit the hospital and drive home.

Returning home, I step into the cozy living room, basking in the warm afternoon light that fills the space. The familiar surroundings offer a comforting embrace, reflecting the love and warmth that have blossomed within our home.

Settling onto the couch, I can hardly contain my excitement as I place a gentle hand on my still-flat belly, feeling a connection to the tiny life that grows within.

Whispers of love and protection escape my lips, a promise to care for and nurture the precious gift that now resides in me.

"I know your dad will be as excited as I am," I whisper.

I make my way to the kitchen, the anticipation bubbling within me like a wellspring of happiness. The familiar tasks of preparing a celebratory dinner bring me a sense of calm and serenity, even as my mind races with dreams of our future as a family.

Each slice of vegetable and each stir of the simmering pot becomes an act of love and devotion. I move with a lightness in my step, and a sense of nostalgia washes over me, mingling with the joy that fills my heart.

Memories of how our journey began a year ago flood my mind, intermingling with the aromas of the simmering food.

It started with a contract.

The agreement was clear: if we couldn't fall in love with each other within a year, it would come to an end. I couldn't help but worry at first, knowing that George still carried a lingering attachment to his ex-girlfriend. Doubts would occasionally cloud my mind, casting a shadow on our connection.

Yet, amidst the challenges and doubts, we shared beautiful moments together. We rarely argued with each other.

Those peaceful moments offer glimpses of hope, reminding me that love has the power to grow and flourish.

And now, since I am pregnant with his child, my deepest desire is to preserve the sacred bond we have forged. I wish, with every fiber of my being, that this pregnancy will be the catalyst to cement our love and transform our contract marriage into something everlasting.

The flickering flames on the stove mirror the flickering hope in my heart. The soft melodies playing in the background seem to underscore my longing for a future filled with love and stability.

The anticipation of George's return grew stronger as I finished cooking. My heart is beating faster. I imagine his reaction to the news that awaits him.

Will he be happy? Will he jump with joy?

I yearn for the moment when I will share the news that will forever alter the course of our lives. With a lot of hope in my mind, I get ready. I put on a red tube dress and apply light makeup.

I sit on the sofa in the hall, impatiently waiting for him.

The minutes turn into hours, and anticipation slowly transforms into disappointment. George is late again.

Doubts creep into my mind, whispering fears that he has forgotten about our anniversary or perhaps chosen not to return.

Feeling the weight of exhaustion settle upon me, I contemplate retiring to bed, the hope for a joyful reunion dwindling. But just as I resign myself to sleep, the sound of the front door creaking open pierces the silence. Hope flickers to life once more, dispelling the darkness that has settled within me.

With an eager heart, I hurry towards the entrance, ready to embrace George in my arms. But my steps come to a halt as I see his unsteady steps. The smell of alcohol wafts in the air.

I am a little disappointed, but I still smile and welcome him.

"You are back." I take his briefcase from his hand. "I will help you wash up, and then we will eat."

I reach out to hold his arm, fearing he will tumble with his unsteady steps. Before I can say another word, George pulls me into a tight embrace, his lips crashing against mine in a flurry of passionate kisses.

The briefcase slips from my grasp.

Conflicting emotions surge within me. Part of me yearns for his touch, for the love and intimacy we shared in the past. But another part of me hesitates, worried about the repercussions of our actions, especially with my pregnancy.

I want him to stop. Yet George's intensity refuses to waver. A surge of memories and emotions wash over me, momentarily overshadowing the disappointment and concern that has plagued my heart.

In that intimate embrace, I feel the familiar warmth of our connection, the tenderness that has woven its way into the fabric of our relationship.

Despite the effects of alcohol, his touch carries a hint of kindness and affection.

My fingers instinctively find their place against his cheek, gently caressing his stubble. The taste of familiarity lingers on his lips, evoking a flood of emotions. I longed for the reassurance of his love.

He sweeps me off my feet, carrying me effortlessly toward our bedroom. His strength and the touch of his lips on mine ignite a spark of desire within me, a reminder of the passionate bond we have cultivated over time.

At that moment, I allow myself to surrender to the intensity of our connection and embrace the tenderness that still lingers beneath the surface.

The room around us seems to fade into the background, with the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm and intimate ambiance. Each touch, each caress, speaks volumes of the love that has blossomed between us.

He is covering me with kisses. I cannot help but moan.

Our bodies moved in harmony, a dance of longing and affection.

I find joy and solace in his arms, and the fear leaves my heart. I only relish the sweetness of this moment.

After crazy sex, I lay motionless like a dead fish and watch him go into the bathroom. A smile tugs on the corners of my lips as I wait for him to come out. I can’t wait to see his reaction.

He exits the bathroom a few minutes later and starts dressing up.

I sit up, wondering where he is going at this hour.

"Are you not going to eat?" I ask.

He pauses and glances at me over his shoulder. "I want to end this marriage," he says without a trace of emotion.

The apathy

As I lay there, naked, with his marks all over my body and a lingering warmth from our intimate encounter, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. However, that blissful state quickly shatters when I hear him say those cold, detached words.

Confusion and a growing unease settle within me, like a dark cloud looming over our shared intimacy.

I search his eyes, hoping to find a trace of the love and tenderness that have just enveloped us. But what I find instead is an icy distance, a void that sends a chill down my spine.

His words seem to cut through the air like shards of glass, slicing through the fragile bubble of hope that has momentarily surrounded us.

"I want a divorce." His voice rings out, devoid of any emotion.

The impact of his words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. My mind races, trying to comprehend what I have just heard.

Why is he saying this? Was it something I had done wrong? Did I fail to please him just now?

At that moment, I cling to the belief that his sudden coldness stems from my perceived failure to please him. The marks he left on my body now feel like cruel reminders of my inadequacy.

I wanted to explain to him that my performance had been affected by the pregnancy and that it wasn't a reflection of my love or desire for him. But before the words could escape my trembling lips, he silenced me with a dismissive wave.

His next revelation hits me like a thunderbolt.

"Megan has returned," he says.

The name Megan starts to echo in my ears, a haunting melody that shatters the remnants of my torn heart.

The ex-girlfriend he has carried within him, the lingering attachment that has always sparked my fears, has finally returned to reclaim him.

Shock and disbelief wash over me in waves. The weight of betrayal and heartache bore down upon my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

How could he discard the bond we had shared, so callously?

"And don’t forget about the terms in the contract," he reminds me. "It clearly states that we can end this marriage after a year if we don’t develop feelings for each other. You failed to win my heart, Vivian."

His mention of the contract twists the knife deeper into my heart.

I hoped, against all odds, that our love would transcend those constraints. But now, he declares the end of our marriage with harsh words, stating that I failed to make him fall for me within the stipulated time.

This is too cruel.

He turns around and continues, "So, I am ending this meaningless marriage and starting over with Megan. I will send the divorce agreement. Read it carefully before signing it."

Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I struggle to make sense of his words. The dreams I have cherished and the hopes I have clung to now lie in ruins around me.

The mention of Megan intensifies the ache, cruelly reminding me that I can never fill the void she left behind. I can never replace her in his heart. Even though I know this reality, a storm of emotions rages within me.

I felt the tenderness and affection emanating from him just moments ago, intertwined in our intimate connection. Were those feelings merely an illusion? Had I been blind to the truth, deceiving myself with false hopes?

Questions swirl in my mind, demanding answers that will never fully satisfy the ache in my heart. I yearn to confront him.

But before I could gather the strength to voice my doubts, his phone intruded upon our fragile moment.

I can see how his eyes sparkle when he looks at the phone.

He quickly answers the call. "Megan… Hey, what’s up?"

Megan, the name that shattered my dreams, called him at this hour.

I want to scream, ‘Why?’

His conversation with her unfolds before my ears, each word laced with gentleness and sweetness I never witnessed when he spoke to me. The contrast cuts deeper than any blade, a visceral reminder that I can never match her.

Pain surges within me, threatening to overflow as I realize that asking him any question will be futile. He will never understand my feelings.

The love I poured into this marriage, the hopes I nurtured, had all been in vain.

My heart aches, not only from the rejection but also from the realization that I lost the battle for his affection.

As I blink my tears away, I make a decision. I can't bear the thought of enduring further heartache and clinging to a love that has proven itself unattainable.

"Okay, okay… I am coming. Now calm down. Yes, yes. I will be right there."

He ends the call and slips the phone into his pocket, moving his gaze toward me.

"I am going to see Megan. Take your time to think. I hope you will understand the situation and agree with me."

With a heavy heart, I muster a smile. "What is there to think? We already know the terms. I am ready to end this marriage."

Suppressing my tears, I roll out of bed and put on my clothes one by one, slowly. My hands are shaking, but I try to act normally.

"You start your life with Megan, and I will also start anew. We will be happy in our lives."

It is a bittersweet acknowledgment that I fought my battles and lost. At that moment, I allow a glimmer of self-love to emerge, promising myself that I deserve more than a love that can't be fully reciprocated.

The pain lingers in my heart, an ache that will take time to heal. But I smile at him as I turn around and face him. I can see the surprise on his face.

Why will he be surprised?

Maybe I am still hoping that he will reconsider ending this marriage. Perhaps, I still want to hear him say that he likes me and that he wants to continue this marriage. But I know it is only my imagination.

He has already said that he is going to reconcile with his ex-girlfriend. Why will he say he likes me?

I continue to smile, though it feels hollow and fragile, as I affirm my decision.

His expression twists into a mask of anger. The reasons behind his sudden fury elude me, adding another layer of bewilderment to an already tumultuous situation.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I mean… you don't have to respond right away. Take your time to think, and… then let me know whatever your decision is."

"I have already decided," I say, knowing he will not change his decision even if I ask him to forget about Megan and stay with me. So, there is no use in wasting time.

"I wish you a successful and happy life with Megan." I offer him a smile.

"I see…"

A dry, bitter laugh escapes his lips, further stinging my wounded heart. Without a word, he storms out of the room and forcefully closes the door behind him, the echo reverberating through the empty space.

The silence envelops me soon. Tears erupt, flowing freely down my cheeks. The ache in my heart feels unbearable.

My hand finds its way to my belly, cradling the precious life growing within.

"I am sorry, baby," I whisper to my unborn child, for the decisions I made in the midst of this chaos.

Although I know it is a bit selfish, I have decided to keep my pregnancy from George. With his power and influence, he will take my child away from him as soon as he learns about it. I have already lost him, but I can’t lose my baby.

It was a choice tinged with a touch of self-preservation, a desperate attempt to safeguard the only part of him.

In this silence, I let the tears flow freely, releasing the pent-up emotions. The path ahead of me is filled with uncertainty, but I’ll navigate it with a fierce determination to love my child with my all heart. I will not let anyone take my baby away.

The confusion

George’s POV…

Vivian’s response annoys me. I cannot believe that she readily agrees to end this marriage. She didn’t ask me a question. She didn’t even cry.

"Ugh…" I slam my fist on the steering wheel. "Why am I thinking about her? It’s good she agrees to the divorce readily."

As I continue driving, I cannot stop recalling the time we have shared over the year.

Our marriage indeed held its share of beautiful moments. Vivian had been a devoted wife, tending to my needs both inside and outside the bedroom. If it weren't for Megan's sudden return, I might have considered continuing this contract for another year.

But Vivian's rapid acceptance of the divorce catches me off guard. Instead of the expected sadness or a hint of hesitation, her readiness to part ways seems almost eager. It is as if she has been counting down the days, waiting for me to bring up the topic so she can swiftly sign the papers. The thought gnaws at me, igniting a spark of frustration within.

The scene of our intimate moments still lingers in the back of my mind. Those moments are hot, and I remember her enjoying my company.

Why did she moan so loudly if she was eager to distance herself from me? How could she enjoy my touch? How could she revel in the pleasure of our physical connection?

It seems contradictory, leaving me puzzled and disenchanted.

I suddenly remember why she agreed to this contract marriage. Vivian confided in me at the time about her crush on someone, who didn’t want her, and her desire to use this marriage as a means to move on and forget that man.

I can't help but wonder if that man still holds space in her heart and if she has merely seen me as a tool to escape her unrequited love.

Despite my own initiation of the contract marriage and my subsequent request for its termination, a simmering annoyance takes hold of me.

How could she readily agree to move on? Am I simply a stepping stone on her path to finding the love she truly desires?

The weight of this realization bore down on me, casting shadows of doubt and resentment.

"I don’t care," I mutter. "She is free to date anyone she likes. It makes no difference to me. I am going to have a better life than her with Megan."

If Vivian has already set her sights on a future without me, then I have no reason to carry the burden of guilt. I am entitled to pursue my own happiness, unshackled by the weight of a marriage that has seemingly lost its purpose.

With a determined resolve, I propel my car forward, the engine roaring in tandem with my racing thoughts.

Megan's place beckons, promising a familiar solace that I have long yearned for. The allure of rekindling the flame with her intensifies, fueling my desire to leave behind the complexities of this crumbling marriage and embrace the familiarity of what once was.

I finally arrived at Megan’s apartment. I press the doorbell.

After some time, Megan opens the door. She looks sexy, draped in nothing but a towel. A sense of familiarity mixed with desire engulfs me. She flashes an alluring smile. Her eyes, filled with a mix of longing and regret, meet mine.

"George…" She envelops me in an embrace. "I've missed you. I apologize for calling you here at such a late hour, all while knowing the presence of your legal wife waiting at home."

Her face falls as she pulls back and looks at me. "You are not angry with me, are you?" She bites her bottom lip.

As soon as she mentioned my wife, Vivian's swift agreement to the divorce echoed in my mind, intensifying my annoyance and stirring a flicker of defiance within me.

"Megan, I... I've missed you too."

Seeking solace in this reunion, I press my lips against hers with fervor, a desperate attempt to convince myself that I no longer care for Vivian.

She responds with equal fervor, her kisses mirroring her unrestrained desire. Yet, despite Megan's bold attempts to seduce me, I can't help but notice the absence of the same fiery passion that ignited within me when I kissed Vivian.

Something is amiss, and I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I don’t feel the same fire with the woman I love. I even don’t know why I am still thinking about Vivian, my contract wife, at this moment when I am with Megan, the love of my life.

How can this be possible?

I stop kissing and pass my fingers through my hair, not able to look into her eyes.

Megan holds my shoulders and asks, "What happened? Why did you stop?"

I can clearly hear the disappointment in her tone.

"Are you not feeling well?" She stretches her hand and puts it on my forehead.

"I am okay, Megan," I say, pushing her hand away gently and walking aside. "I… it’s late, and I am tired."

"I know. I shouldn’t have bothered you so late at night." She sighs and comes in closer, taking my hands in hers. "But I couldn’t wait to see you." Her eyes are watery. "I love you, George. I love you so much." She hugs me as she confesses her feelings for me.

I instinctively wrap my arms around her.

"I'm sorry for leaving you a year ago," she murmurs. "I was foolish and selfish, choosing my career over us. I let you marry another woman to fulfill your sick grandmother's wish."

Her words tug at a chord in my heart, stirring a mix of emotions within me. As I gaze into her eyes, a part of me wants to surrender to the allure of starting anew and embracing a future with Megan. Yet, the lingering question remains: Why can’t I forget about Vivian? What is happening to me?

Megan's gaze pleads with me, her eyes shimmering with unspoken desire. "Is it too late, George? Have you fallen for Vivian? Please tell me there is still a chance for us. Marry me if you haven't fallen in love with Vivian."

Caught in the midst of conflicting emotions, my mind races to find clarity. I can't deny the connection I once shared with Megan, yet I am unsure of how to respond.

Why did Vivian’s face appear in front of my eyes?