My Husband Used My Body for His Lover's Exhibit

Three months pregnant, I received an urgent text from my husband. Fearing something had happened to him, I hurried to find him, only to be struck from behind and lose consciousness.

When I awoke, I was naked on an art exhibition platform, displayed as a nude model.

I was treated like an object, subjected to unbearable humiliation; even my unborn child was cut out and turned into part of the exhibit.

After the exhibition, I was condemned as shameless, while Selina Grant, the creator, was hailed as a brilliant female artist.

I rushed to confront Selina, only to overhear my husband and her confessing their love at the stairwell.

“Selina said only Clara Hart could inspire her, and that she was the ideal model. Besides, Clara grew up in an orphanage; her life was cheap, she often wore rags and even ate from trash bins, so posing nude is nothing.”

When speaking of Selina, Simon Carter’s voice softened.

“Selina comes from money, grew up abroad, and has true artistic talent. She’s precious, so of course I have to cherish her.”

“My days with Selina are full of passion and joy. Clara is dull; all she does is ask about meals and remind me to drink less. Being with her is tiring.”

Every word stabbed straight into my heart.

If that was how things were, then leaving was my only choice.

Simon didn’t know that the chief designer title I once surrendered for him was something I now intended to reclaim.

——

After locking herself out for the ninety-seventh time because she forgot her keys, Clara finally visited a neurologist.

The doctor told her that due to an incident at age ten, she had a lingering brain hemorrhage.

It was now dispersing, and within half a month, she was expected to awaken with no memories left, becoming a different person entirely.

Shaken by the news, Clara left the hospital in a trance, trembling as she dialed her husband Simon. “Simon, I need to tell you something, I—”

Beep beep… the call suddenly ended.

Soon, Simon texted: Selina Art Museum, Nanshan Road. I’ll be there in ten minutes.

She called again, but he didn’t answer.

Fearing something had happened to him, Clara rushed to the location, only to find no trace of Simon.

The next moment, she was struck from behind and blacked out.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself naked on a display platform, a yellow liquid pooling beneath her.

People surrounded her, whispering with disgust on their faces.

Clara was horrified.

She had wet herself—naked—in front of everyone!

Selina’s voice sounded at that moment.

“As you can see, this is a piece about women and childbirth.”

“After giving birth, a woman’s body loses charm, and some even suffer incontinence. Every mother is remarkable. I hope everyone respects women and treats all mothers with kindness.”

She finished and bowed deeply to the audience.

Thunderous applause followed; everyone praised the exhibit's message.

But Clara’s mind went blank—she had never given birth, and there was no childbirth injury.

She must have confused her with someone else. Yes, she had mistaken someone else for her—she wasn’t meant to be the model at all.

She tried to explain, but no sound came out.

She had clearly been drugged to silence her temporarily.

While panicking, she noticed a familiar figure in the crowd.

Her eyes widened—this man looked identical to her husband.

Sensing her gaze, the man merely glanced coldly at her before turning his attention to Selina.

His eyes were full of admiration, tenderness almost overflowing.

Clara froze, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Then Selina ran into his arms. They kissed openly, then walked away together.

As they left, Clara’s eyes dimmed.

Simon loved her deeply—how could he cheat, and even watch her being displayed like merchandise, naked and humiliated?

Fifteen years of knowing each other, ten years of love—she had never doubted him.

At age ten, he found her in a garbage dump and brought her to an orphanage, giving her a home and protecting her.

At fifteen, he fought thugs who assaulted her, was stabbed seven times, and nearly died.

At eighteen, she was stranded by a mudslide during fieldwork. He walked through the storm for over ten kilometers to find her, saying that if she died, he would die with her.

At twenty, he built a business for her, and in five years rose to the top of high society as a celebrated tech tycoon.

“Clara, I’ll love you forever, and I’ll do everything to give you the best life and make you the Mrs. Carter everyone envies.”

So how could the man who loved her so fiercely be the same man who had just abandoned her for someone else?

Tears welled up. Clara struggled with all her strength, but the drugs kept her from speaking or moving.

For two hours at the art exhibition, she was treated like an object, stared at, and inspected by everyone. Some men with bad intentions even took the chance to touch and grope her body.

When the exhibition finally ended, and the drugs wore off, Clara slowly stood to leave, but at the corner of the stairs, she heard that familiar, unforgettable voice.

“Being naked and incontinent for two hours, then being watched and touched—isn’t that a bit much for Clara?” Simon sounded indifferent. “Selina said only Clara can inspire her, and is the most suitable nude model for her exhibit. Besides, Clara grew up in an orphanage; her life was cheap, she often wore thin clothes as a child, and even ate from garbage cans. Being a nude model means nothing to her.”

When he mentioned Selina, Simon’s tone softened.

“Selina comes from a wealthy family and grew up abroad. She’s highly gifted in the arts, very precious, so naturally I have to cherish her.” His friend sighed quietly, “But I remember you built Hart Technology for Clara, climbing your way to where you are today.” Simon chuckled, not denying it. “At first, yes, it was because of Clara, but now I’m simply grateful that my status allowed me to meet Selina.”

“Selina is nothing like Clara. She plays piano, dances, and paints; she understands art and romance. With her, we can talk about philosophy and art all night long. But Clara—”

He paused, impatiently. “Clara is too mundane. Every day she just asks what I want to eat, if I feel cold, or other trivial things. You know, she even bargained over prices when we went to the supermarket.”

Clara heard the sound of her heart shattering. So it really was Simon; he had long fallen for someone else.

So this was how she ended up here, naked and displayed—everything orchestrated for another woman’s exhibit.

A worthless life.

To him, she had always been nothing but a worthless life.

Her heart felt like it was being crushed, the pain suffocating.

The voice continued.

“I fell for Selina. Having Clara pose nude was my idea. If she discovers it one day, let her hate me. It has nothing to do with Selina.”

He even distanced himself from Selina right away.

Clara trembled violently, as if someone had seized her throat.

“No one loves only one person forever. Clara and I just met too early. If I had met Selina first, everything would be different.”

“Being with Selina made me feel passion and joy. With Clara, it was too tiring.”

The other person asked, “If you love Selina, why not divorce Clara instead of holding her back?”

“Selina is firmly against marriage. We’ll never marry. Clara will remain Mrs. Carter and continue enjoying the title. That’s my compensation to her. It’s just that I won’t love her anymore.”

Every word stabbed into Clara’s heart.

He didn’t love her anymore.

He was the one who said he loved her first, and now he was the one saying he didn’t love her anymore.

Because he no longer loved her, he could strip her bare for others to see; because he no longer loved her, he could crush her dignity and turn her into another woman’s artwork.

When did his love become so cheap?

Tears streamed endlessly; Clara cried until her heart ached.

From age ten to twenty-five, she remembered everything Simon had done, and in return, she had given him all her love.

Her love for him had become instinctive.

Since he no longer deserved it, she would simply take it back.

Shaking, she opened her phone and bought a plane ticket to Italy, writing in her notes: “If one day you forget who you are, take this ticket and become someone new.”

She pulled the medical certificate from her pocket and tore it to pieces with her own hands.

“Simon, you and our past, disappear from my memory together.”

“What are you tearing?”