After Seven Years,I Was Never His Wife

The last thing I shattered was the glass photo frame I always kept by my bedside.

With a sharp crack, it hit the ground, and the glass splintered into a spiderweb of cracks, slicing into my calf.

Blood began to trickle down in a winding path, staining my slippers red.

The housekeeper had stood frozen in shock since I started destroying everything, and when she saw the blood, she panicked and secretly called Brynn.

He rushed back, his footsteps frantic. The moment he entered, he saw me leaning against the sofa, expression indifferent, my leg stained with blood.

“Honey!”

He hurried over, scooping me into his arms and placing me on the sofa. His voice shook, “What happened? How did you get hurt?”

I lowered my gaze, murmuring, “I accidentally cut myself.”

“Accidentally? How did you break so many things?” His eyes flickered to the shattered wedding photos on the floor, his heart tightening.

“Are you angry with me? Are you upset that I’ve been away these past few days?”

I didn’t answer. I simply shifted my leg, pulling away from his reaching hand as he tried to apply the ointment.

He grabbed my ankle and began wrapping it carefully, his expression more flustered than mine.

“Don’t move; let me do it. It won’t hurt.”

As he dabbed disinfectant onto the wound, he spoke quickly, almost breathlessly, “I know I was wrong. I’ve really neglected you these past few days, but it’s not because I don’t care. I’ve just been caught up in Solomon’s matters.”

“If you’re angry, take it out on me. Yell at me, scream at me, just don’t hurt yourself, alright?”

His hands were gentle as if he feared I might shatter with the slightest pressure.

“We can retake the wedding photos, reshoot the video, or do whatever you want. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. Just don’t do this to yourself again.”

I looked at him in silence for a long moment, then slowly gave a nod.

Yes, anything I didn’t like could be changed.

And from now on, I wouldn’t be the one hurting myself anymore.

Seeing me nod, Brynn finally exhaled, like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Honey, I’m so glad you’re not mad anymore. Come here, let me hold you.”

He pulled me into his arms, burying his face against my neck like a child needing comfort.

But I had a feeling he wasn’t done yet.

Sure enough, later on Instagram, he said, “Honey, I’m turning thirty soon. I’m planning to use my birthday to publicly announce Solomon’s identity, to let the world know he’s my son.”

“After the celebration, I’ll take you both on a vacation to the island. Didn’t we buy a private island a while ago? We never got the chance to go, but now’s the perfect time.”

He smiled, eyes shining with anticipation.

“Didn’t you always say how wonderful it would be to wake up every morning to the sound of waves and sunlight pouring into the room?”

“Let’s go there together, the three of us, as one happy family, alright?”

I leaned back against the sofa, my head spinning slightly.

“Okay,” I replied softly.

You three go together happily as a family.

And I, the outsider, would quietly disappear.

He seemed stunned for a moment, as though surprised I agreed so easily. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face.

“Honey, what birthday gift are you preparing for me this year?” Brynn looked at me with expectation in his eyes.

I curved my lips and answered, “A surprise.”

His eyes lit up instantly. He pulled me into his arms, whispering about how wonderful I was.

These past few days, he had been occupied helping Sylvie with her inheritance matters, everything had finally been settled today.

That meant he no longer needed to maintain that marriage.

He could, just like the fortune teller said, divorce Sylvie when he turned thirty.

Then, he could officially become my husband, in name and in law.

But I didn’t know that was what he had in mind.

And he didn’t know I had once planned to tell him about my pregnancy as his birthday surprise.

But now, I had already spoken with my father.

On his birthday, I would go home and fulfill the arranged marriage.