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MISTAKEN GROOM Novel Cover

MISTAKEN GROOM

After the devastating loss of her baby, Aisha watches her husband Karl drift back to his ex, Tanya. Enduring his cold neglect, she attempts one final, desperate battle to reclaim her rightful place, only to realize he never truly loved her. Determined to escape this painful cycle of betrayal, Aisha chooses to leave Karl behind. Abandoning her marriage and his supernatural world, she steps into the wild alone, ready to embrace her own strength and navigate the untamed werewolf life on her own terms.
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Chapter 1

I was three months pregnant when the disaster struck. I had been driving back from the clinic when a sudden jolt sent the car skidding off the road. The world tilted violently, and before I knew it, I was spinning out of control.

When I woke up,the hollow emptiness in my abdomen told me what I already feared—I had lost the baby.

Panic clawed at my chest as I fumbled for my phone, my fingers shaking as I tried to dial Karl Cooper, my mate and husband. Over and over, the line rang, but no one answered.

The silence on his end felt like a betrayal, but it wasn’t until I saw the post that everything shattered. There it was—clear as day on social media—Tanya Miller, Karl’s first love, smiling brightly beside him. The caption made my blood run cold.

The caption read: [My boyfriend canceled all his work to watch the sunrise with me. He loves me so much!]

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, followed by a wave of nausea that I barely managed to keep down. I wiped away the tears that blurred my vision.

While I hovered between life and death, he was out there... with her. Watching the sunrise. The irony was like a knife twisting in my heart. I forced a bitter smile, the pain in my body nothing compared to the agony tearing through my heart.

With shaking hands, I dialed my professor’s number. “Professor Garrett, after careful consideration, I’ve decided to study abroad. I can leave soon.”

***

Three days passed after my miscarriage. Three days of silence from Karl, and I had never felt more alone. When he finally returned, his face held the slightest flicker of guilt. But behind it, there was something else—a smugness, like someone who had just come back from a grand adventure.

I didn’t explode. I didn’t cry or shout as I might have in the past. I had nothing left. Instead, I stood there, gazing at him with quiet calm, holding back the torrent of unspoken questions swirling in my mind.

“Aisha,” he began, his tone measured, too smooth like a rehearsed script. “I had to be at the Pack border to handle some emergencies, especially with some rogue wolves that keep trying to encroach the border. So, I couldn’t respond to your messages or call.” He smiled as though that would make it better. “Don’t be mad. I won’t do it again, okay?”

I gave him a small, faint smile, though disbelief simmered beneath my calm exterior. What kind of project could keep him from answering his phone for three days? Especially knowing I was pregnant? It felt like a lie. A weak, transparent excuse.

But I said only one word. “Okay.” my voice flat.

There was no energy left in me to shout or demand answers; the icy grip of reality had already drained me.

Karl blinked, taken aback by my lack of reaction. I knew what he expected. In the past, I would’ve been furious, storming through the house demanding answers. But now, after everything, I was too tired to fight.

“Aisha Brooks, are you still mad at me?” His voice was lighter now, as if this whole situation were nothing more than a slight misunderstanding. “Please, don’t be upset. I even bought you flowers.”

He pulled out a wilted bouquet of roses—cheap, like the kind sold at roadside stands. Their edges were brown, and the scent of decay clung to them. He looked at me expectantly, as if this pitiful offering would make everything right.

Looking at the bouquet of wilted roses, their once-vibrant red petals drooping pathetically. A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Ten years, Karl. Ten years of marriage, and you still don’t know I’m allergic to pollen?”

He blinked again, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

The brief flicker of shame that crossed his face was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual indifference. “Sorry, Aisha. I’ve been working day and night these past few days. I guess I forgot.”

As if that would make it better.

He shifted awkwardly before pulling out something else from his bag. A light pink scarf with a designer logo on it, neatly folded. “This scarf, though, I bought it just for you. Do you like it?”

I stared at the scarf, tears stinging my eyes. It was beautiful, no doubt, but it wasn’t the gift itself that crushed me. I had seen it before—just days ago on Tanya’s social media. She had posted it alongside a box of gifts with the caption: [My boyfriend is always randomly buying me things. Most are fine, but this scarf is just ugly! I’d rather tie it to the dog!]

And now here it was, passed down to me. Like I was the second choice. Like I had always been the second choice.

“What’s wrong, Aisha? Don’t you like it?” Karl asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, tucking the scarf away as I forced another smile. “I like it.”

He seemed to relax, oblivious to the pain simmering beneath my skin. It was the same as always.

“By the way, Aisha, you kept calling me these past few days. Was there something urgent?” he asked, his eyes flicking briefly to his phone.

Urgent? The word hung in the air, mocking me. My fingers tightened around the edge of the couch as I held back the storm brewing inside.

“No,” I said, my voice icy, the weight of what I concealed pressing down on me.

“It was nothing.” Nothing, except a car accident, a miscarriage, and the hollow ache where our child had once been. But clearly, all that paled in comparison to watching the sunrise with his first love.

Just as I prepared to say something more, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it and immediately left for his study. “Aisha, I need to take care of some work,” he said, his tone casual, and without waiting for my response, he strode to the study, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud.

And just like that, he disappeared into his study, leaving me standing there, my pale reflection staring back at me from the window.

The cold seeped into my bones as I watched the door close. The weight of his indifference settled like a stone in my chest. But this time, I wasn’t going to let it crush me.

Determined, I pulled out my phone and redialed my professor’s number.

“Professor Garrett,” I said, my voice firm despite the turmoil inside me, “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to study abroad to further my art education.”

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