Done Being His Secret Wife, I Left Behind My Husband

Evren brushed the tip of Rosette's nose with his finger, making her giggle and blush. The two of them flirted and whispered sweet nothings, completely unaware that I was standing just outside the door.

My mind went blank. My face was as pale as paper. It felt like all the strength had been drained from my body.

Suddenly, the little charm hanging from my phone slipped loose and hit the floor with a sharp clink.

Startled, I looked through the crack of the door—and met Rosette's gaze. Her eyes curved with satisfaction as she leaned closer into Evren's arms, while he remained oblivious to my presence.

Holding him tightly, Rosette turned slightly toward my direction, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

"Hehe, that brooch? I threw it into the shallow waters by the shore. If someone were desperate enough to dive for it, maybe they'd find it."

Evren let out a low hum, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. His voice was deep and lazy.

"It doesn't matter. If I say it's real, then it's real. Analeia won't doubt my words. Now focus on me."

My knees buckled. I slid down against the doorframe, trembling, listening to the sickly sweet sounds from inside. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. Somehow, I forced myself to leave the house, made it to the underground garage, and drove away in one of Evren's cars.

By the time I reached the beach Rosette had mentioned, dusk had already fallen.

The beach was quiet, empty except for the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

With such a long stretch of coastline, finding that brooch was nearly impossible—but I searched anyway.

I waded along the shallow waters, combing the sand bit by bit.

Two days and two nights passed, and I still found nothing.

Eventually, I collapsed from exhaustion and was taken to the hospital.

While I lay there half-conscious, a message arrived on my phone—from Rosette.

[I heard you spent two days looking for that brooch and ended up in the hospital again. You'd better be careful, or you might lose the baby. Honestly, I lied that day. I threw the brooch into the sewer.]

My hands trembled as I read the message. Rage boiled in my chest, and I started coughing violently.

The doctor said he'd informed Evren—but he never came.

Not that day. Not the next morning either.

When I was finally discharged early the following day, I checked my phone again.

Evren had sent me a message.

[Rosette, today marks your 7,365th day with the Johnson family. I want to give you a surprise.]

A photo followed.

His bare chest filled the screen. Near his heart bloomed a freshly inked gardenia—Rosette's favorite flower—and beneath it was her initials.

He'd gotten a tattoo for her.

Once, when we were still in love, I mentioned wanting to get matching tattoos—to leave a symbol of us on each other's skin.

But he had rejected me outright.

He'd said tattoos were childish, pointless, and that he hated them more than anything.

Now, I finally understood.

It wasn't that he hated tattoos. He just hated the idea of having mine.

I stood at the hospital entrance, staring at the photo until my tears blurred it out of focus.

A bitter smile crept across my lips as I deleted his message.

...

When I returned home, Evren was waiting in the living room.

The moment he saw me, he stood up quickly and walked over, a trace of panic and guilt flashing across his face.

"You're back," he said, forcing a smile. "Did you... see the message I sent you?"

I lowered my gaze, my expression hidden in shadow, and shook my head slowly.

"No. What did you send?"

Evren's shoulders relaxed in relief.

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"Oh."

I turned calmly and headed to the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Evren came in carrying a glass of orange juice.

"Drink this," he said softly.

After he left, I poured it straight into the toilet. Obviously, he'd forgotten I was allergic to oranges.

Five minutes later, he returned to collect the glass. Seeing it empty, a faint smile curved his lips.

I lay down, pretending to sleep, when the faint murmur of voices drifted from the living room.

"Brother, are you sure she's asleep?"

"I put a sleeping pill in her orange juice. Since I promised to give you a surprise tonight, I won't let anyone interrupt us."

"Hmph. You sent the wrong photo. Aren't you afraid she'll see it?"

"Don't worry. She said she didn't get it."

Rosette giggled softly. "And what if she did?"

There was a long silence. Then Evren spoke, his voice calm and chilling. "Then we'll get a divorce."