Push Him Away

When I found out about his tenth affair, Christian held me tight and apologized through tears as he chased the woman out of the room. She barely even had time to strap her bra on.

By the twenty-eighth time, he went further. He transferred mansions and luxury cars into my name, swearing over and over that I was the only one he loved.

After the ninety-ninth time, I stopped counting. The details blurred together until they meant nothing at all. His guilt faded, and so did the tears. Even pretending began to feel like a burden to him.

Instead, he called his assistant and laid down a rule—cold, calculated, almost absurd.

A house under my name for every affair. A set of rare jewelry whenever one of his lovers got pregnant.

We'd dated for eight years and married for four. Now I had 99 properties under my name and was the owner of 98 sets of jewelry.

The other elites' wives envied me. Christian made a good show of him being a generous husband. Unbeknownst to them, this marriage was rotten from the inside.

It festered like an untreated wound, and I refused to cut it away. All I could do was watch it decay.

I was clinging on to something that already wasn't there. There were times I'd print out the divorce papers only to tear them apart in my ensuing hysteria.

Our fights came in droves, and we both pointed fingers at each other.

The endless arguments wore us down and planted resentment within us. The young man who once only had eyes for me was something in the past now.

The remnants of love I had for him dried out into desiccated husks after so many betrayals.

My parents were carving out a future in Asternis. Busy as they were, they sent their butler to talk to me.

Tears glistened in my eyes as I said, "I want to go home."

…

The flight was scheduled to take off in ten days. The living room was a lot more spacious than it used to be, with most of the decor wrapped up in cardboard boxes.

Only one thing remained untouched. The veil.

I couldn't throw that out. Christian made it with his own hands back when I was his whole world.

The end product wasn't the best, but it was a symbol of his love. Even after he started giving me piles of luxury items, the veil remained the one thing I loved the most.

Then one day, I saw Jasmine coming out of the auction house looking like she'd won the best thing in life. Reporters huddled around her, and she gushed about her happiness.

Christian had spent 1.5 million bidding on a set of diamond-encrusted, golden-threaded lingerie for her.

The scene made me sick to my stomach.

I tore the veil apart without thinking—but halfway through, my strength gave out. I collapsed to the floor, breath unsteady, surrounded by fragments of what used to mean everything.

We had years of history and a lot of memories tucked away. Throwing all of them away in one go was impossible.

I'd stayed in this painful dream for twelve years, and it was time to wake up, even if what lay ahead was excruciating pain.

…

I woke up after taking my medication. It was already afternoon, and it was the next day. Footsteps echoed outside the door.

"Did you throw our stuff out? The house is emptier than I remember. You should've told me." Christian's voice was raspier than usual.

Jasmine texted him. His phone buzzed. Her cloying voice played through the speaker, "I'm still sore from last night, daddy. You pounded me long and hard."

Christian halted before the entrance. A smile curled his lips, and he texted back even though I was right here.

I looked away. "Just clearing out useless things," I said flatly.

I moved toward the bar, but before I could reach it, he crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. He sat down on the couch with me, as if nothing had happened.

Then he took out another set of designer items for me.

Like he'd done so many times, Christian went down on one knee and wrapped an anklet around my ankle. His eyes spoke nothing but devotion, as if I was the only one he loved.

"Alright, enough of this," he said lightly. "Look what I got you." He stood and leaned in, brushing a kiss against my collarbone.

"Everyone knows how well I treat you. People envy you, you know that? So stop sulking and drop the attitude."

A cold smile twisted my lips. His promise came back to me.

A set of jewelry every time he made his mistress pregnant. This came faster than I remembered. Perhaps that mistress was Jasmine.

My smile sharpened. And this time—I pushed him away.

She's Pregnant

Christian and I had been together for years. My body was never the kind that conceived easily, so when I first became pregnant, I didn't even notice.

When I saw the news showing him and Jasmine coming out of a hotel like a couple that'd just had a steamy session, I charged right into his company and raised hell.

The employees thought it was a joke. Christian, with his inflated need of ego-stroking, thought I was an embarrassment. For one week he didn't return home, and rumors caught up to me.

"Is Mr. Helmley getting a divorce?"

"He's rich and successful, but his wife hasn't stepped up in forever."

"And she's grown a lot older this year. Wrinkles all over her face, and her skin's sagging. Of course her husband's leaving."

I forced myself to look the other way and kept the thoughts at bay at first, but then Christian started swapping out women like they were disposable utensils.

Perhaps I shouldn't think about that kind of past. While Christian wasn't home, I sold all the properties and supercars at low, low prices.

The agent found it surprising, but I told him to just make the sale ASAP, regardless of the price. I was thankful that Christian gave me piles of assets and jewelry back when he loved only me.

I also had a sizable amount of shares in his company. Every time we went at it back then, he would hug me like he was squeezing a teddy bear and tell me how much he loved me, again and again.

He promised he would give me the best the world had to offer and secure my future. "If I ever fall for someone else one day," he once said with a laugh, "this version of me will make sure he pays for it."

Neither of us imagined that someday would come just one year into our marriage.

…

I wanted to sell all my assets and maintain my lifestyle even after the divorce.

Six days before my flight to Asternis, I went back to the countryside.

There was a lemon garden there—rows of trees stretching under the open sky. He had given it to me for my twenty-sixth birthday.

That moment under the tree brought us our first child.

Sweet memories here, despite the fruits it held, but all I wanted to do was bid it one last goodbye.

I pushed the steel gates open. The moment I pushed open the gates, a heavy floral scent hit me—thick, overwhelming.

Jasmine.

My throat tightened. My skin reacted instantly, irritation spreading across my face.

Christian knew I was allergic to pollen. Why would he fill this place with jasmine?

The butler in the garden scurried away after she gave me a panicked look. When I tried the door, it denied me access. "Authorized personnel only."

That was bemusing.

Then the door opened. A soft, syrupy voice floated out.

"You can't keep yourself away from me, can you, honey? And I let you suck on me the whole night."

Jasmine Wood, probably. His latest and most beloved mistress.

On screen, she looked radiant. Up close, without makeup, there were traces of someone familiar—echoes of who I used to be.

That realization lingered longer than it should have.

"Ms. Wood, wrecking someone's marriage is illegal. Christian's company is going public very soon, and a scandal is the last thing he needs. If this goes out, I'm sure he'll pull back all his protection."

I tried to move past her.

Jasmine grabbed my wrist, and her eyes twinkled with smugness. "Christian gave this house to me after he took my first time."

I saw disdain in her eyes. Disdain for me. "And if the rumors are true, dancers are very… promiscuous. Most of you aren't virgins anymore."

The younger me would be incandescent after that remark, but the older me didn't argue with her.

Instead, I called Christian right away.

It went through, and Christian's tired voice said, "I just got out of a meeting. Can you please let me catch my breath? Jasmine had a hard past, so just let her have that house. It's just a countryside property, not a big deal.

"I've given you more houses than I could count. What more do you want? If you really want it, I…"

The rest of that didn't reach me. Jasmine pounced on me like a panther, and the phone fell with a clatter.

"I heard you stayed with him for eight years while he had nothing," she said. "He married you out of gratitude. Don't you think he's repaid that by now?"

Then she turned toward a camera nearby. Tears welled in her eyes as she dropped to her knees. "Please… let him go. For the sake of my child."

Christian probably noticed something, and his voice took on an element of agitation. "What'd you do to her, Natasha? I gave you everything I could, so don't push it! Damn it, can you stop being possessive for three seconds?"

A cold laugh slipped from me. "You know exactly how I feel about betrayal," I said quietly. "If she stays, I leave."

I turned toward the door. For the first time, panic entered his voice. "Wait—if you hate her that much, I'll make her go!"

My footsteps halted, and I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes and took a steady breath, pressing a hand against my chest.

Then I spoke calmly. "You're going to be a father, Christian."

Silence fell on the other end of the line.

Forced to Come

Christian found me three days later.

I had just finished sorting out my passport when he saw a man escorting me into a car. His expression darkened instantly. He stormed over, yanked the door open, and dragged me out.

The man looked worried, but I only said, "Please go ahead without me, sir." He sighed, then left.

Christian took me into his car. His voice was rough when he spoke. "That baby isn't happening. I'll make sure of it."

He threw an ultrasound report at me. The fetus showed serious abnormalities, and the doctor had recommended termination.

For a moment, memory pulled me backward.

Christian had once sworn that he would only ever have children with me. He said I was his only love. If any other woman ever carried his child, he would curse the baby himself before letting it come into the world.

That curse finally became his reckoning. He had silently accepted Jasmine's pregnancy, and the sorrow in his eyes was unmistakable.

I felt no sympathy. Only cold amusement. "Suit yourself. You're rich enough to keep the baby alive if you want to."

My reaction came as a surprise. When I tried to leave, he grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his eyes.

"Why didn't you take my call? Why were you messing with another man?"

The fury in his eyes didn't burn my icy resolve. My voice came out as a hiss. "You have no right to ask me that. And this is the last time we see each other. Don't come near me again."

Christian didn't have an outburst, nor did he argue. Instead, he stared at me closely. In the end, he was sure he had me in his palm, and he chuckled.

"Is this your new trick? Staying quiet and planning your departure? But where can you even go if you don't have me backing you up?"

I returned his question with an unsettling stare. In the end, he was the first to look away.

I snickered. So this was how a couple wallowing in resentment ended up. I used to think this would never happen to me and Christian. Time had taught me otherwise.

I left the car, and Christian stepped on the gas without even hesitating. His car zoomed off, scraping the skin off my calf. I wondered if he was in a hurry to make love to someone in that jasmine garden.

Though my leg was injured, I still staggered back home. As I passed a lemon grove, ripe fruit fell around me, stirring memories I thought I had buried.

The bells chimed, and papers carrying messages of love fluttered from the garden.

'I love you so, so much, Nat!'

'I can't imagine what life would be like without you!'

The ink wasn't as vibrant as the day the words were written, and the papers were taking on a shade of yellow. It was an oath Christian wrote back when we were madly in love.

But the young, passionate man I once knew had long since been swallowed by the decadence and temptations of Imperia.

…

Three days before the departure. Christian had his assistant take me on a luxury cruise ship by force. His company's team-building event, but he never allowed me to take part.

His reason? To keep a close eye on me so I wouldn't mess things up.

It was plain now. Christian couldn't care less about my feelings. He didn't bother holding back and brought Jasmine home.

The woman was wearing a jacket on the outside, but underneath was a see-through outfit. She was going commando.

Jasmine would let out exaggerated giggles from time to time. Christian banged on my door after he was done messing with Jasmine. "Hey, make me a drink! I'm thirsty!"

I opened the door, still groggy from sleep.Then I looked at him with complete indifference. "You've been busy for quite a while," I said flatly. "Was she still not enough for you?"