His Wife, Her Stranger

Three weeks after the accident that nearly took her life, Charlotte was finally discharged from the hospital.

Fernandez had managed to cover her medical bills by borrowing money, despite his already strained condition.

Just as they were about to leave, the doctor walked in, holding a sheet of paper.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. Please, pick up these medications on your way out,” he said, handing it to her father.

Fernandez took it, then glanced at Charlotte.

Her hospital gown hung loosely on her frail frame, her face pale, her eyes distant—lost in thoughts she couldn’t seem to escape.

Michael never came.

Not once.

Not to see her. Not to ask about her condition. Not even to care about the bills.

“Ms. Charlotte,” the doctor called gently.

She looked up slowly.

“I believe your father has informed you that you’ll need to come in once a week for checkups.”

He had told her—but not why.

She felt fine… or at least, fine enough. So why the constant visits?

A flicker of suspicion crossed her mind, but she said nothing. If there was something being hidden from her, perhaps it was for the best.

She wasn’t sure she could survive another blow.

“It’s fine… I’ll come,” she said softly, sniffing as she held back the tears threatening to spill.

“Very well. You’re free to go.”

With that, the doctor turned and left.

Fernandez stepped forward to help her, but she shook her head lightly.

“I’m okay. I can walk.”

He didn’t argue.

Outside the hospital, they stood by the roadside, waiting for a cab.

“You’re coming home with me,” Fernandez said firmly. “You still need rest.”

Charlotte shook her head.

“I can’t. I need to see Michael… I need answers. And I have to get my things.”

“Charlotte,” he sighed, “don’t be stubborn. He didn’t come for three weeks. Do you really think he’ll care now?”

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she raised her hand and hailed a cab.

“Please… just pay the fare before I go.”

Fernandez hesitated, but in the end, he gave in. He told the driver her address and paid.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she got in. “I’ll see you at home.”

The ride was silent.

Charlotte stared out the window, her vision blurred with tears.

Memories flooded her mind—moments she once cherished, now twisted into something painful.

Five years of marriage.

Five years… and nothing to show for it.

Not even a child.

Her grip tightened in her lap.

Still… she had tried.

She had always tried.

The car slowed to a stop.

Charlotte looked up.

The mansion stood before her—unchanged, yet it felt foreign.

Cold.

Unwelcoming.

She stepped out slowly, her legs weak beneath her. For a moment, she hesitated.

Maybe… she shouldn’t have come.

But it was too late. The security let her in without question.

Inside, the house was quiet.

Too quiet.

She moved toward the stairs, thinking Michael might be upstairs, but then she heard voices coming from the kitchen area.

Her steps slowed as she followed the sound, brown arch, heart beginning to pound.

She pushed the door open.

And froze.

Norah.

Michael’s cousin.

Standing there like she belonged.

For a moment, Charlotte couldn’t move.

Then Norah turned.

Her eyes swept over Charlotte, filled with nothing but disgust.

“What are you doing here?” she sneered. “Who let this stinky, barren woman in?”

Charlotte’s chest tightened.

“You—” her voice shook. “I knew something was wrong about you. How dare you steal what is mine?”

Norah laughed.

“Steal? You have nothing worth stealing.” She folded her arms. “If I were you, I’d leave before I call security.”

“What’s going on?” Michael’s voice came from behind.

Charlotte’s heart leapt.

He was here.

Finally.

But before she could speak, Norah suddenly cried out and dropped to the floor.

“Ouch! My stomach—Michael, help me! She’s trying to hurt my baby!”

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

Baby?

Michael rushed in, shoving Charlotte aside as he went straight to Norah.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

“She tried to harm our baby,” Norah whimpered, clutching her stomach.

Our baby.

The words echoed in Charlotte’s head.

She stood there, stunned—unable to speak, unable to move.

“What are you doing here?” Michael snapped, turning to her. “And how dare you touch my child?”

Before she could respond—

Slap!

Her head snapped to the side.

Her cheek burned.

But she didn’t cry out.

She was used to it.

“Get out,” he said coldly. “Before I do something I’ll regret. There’s nothing between us anymore. I’ll send you the divorce papers.”

Charlotte’s chest tightened as she struggled to breathe.

“You left me in the hospital…” she whispered. “And now you’re throwing me out?”

Tears blurred her vision.

“What did I do wrong? Is it because I couldn’t give you a child?”

“Yes,” another voice cut in.

Charlotte turned.

His mother.

“Isn’t that enough?” she continued. “You’ve ruined him already. Must you destroy him completely?”

“I was in the hospital for weeks,” Charlotte said, her voice breaking. “None of you came,”

“You should have died,” his sister added coldly.

Charlotte froze.

“Even you…?” she whispered.

“Save it,” his mother snapped. “We would have buried you properly if you had.”

“Now leave,” the sister pointed to the door.

Charlotte didn’t move.

Her eyes went back to Michael, hoping, waiting to take her back.

Begging… without words.

“Michael… please,” she dropped to her knees. “I still want you. I can change, I’ll give you a child, I promise—”

But he didn’t even look at her.

Instead, he pulled Norah into his arms.

That was her answer.

“She’s not going anywhere,” his mother said, grabbing Charlotte’s arm.

They dragged her out.

And threw her outside.

The door slammed shut.

Charlotte collapsed where she stood, her tears falling freely.

Everything was gone.

Everything.

And yet…

A part of her still clung to him.

Still hoped.

Still refused to let go.

And that frightened her more than anything else.