My Husband Chose His Secretary Over Me

At eighteen, Elaine Austin cut ties with her family for Jeffrey Jackson. In that gloomy basement, his tears fell onto her chest as he swore in a hoarse voice that he would never let her down in this lifetime.

Ten years later, Jeffrey had gone from nothing to a multimillionaire. Yet on what should've been a joyful anniversary celebration, Elaine found herself drenched in red wine—courtesy of Jeffrey's new secretary.

"Mr. Jackson's been sick of you for a while now. Why do you keep hanging on?" the secretary sneered.

Elaine didn't take the bait. She simply told security to escort the girl out. Ten years had taught her exactly how deeply Jeffrey loved her. There was no way he was tired of her.

But Lilian Hunter, the secretary, fought the guards as they dragged her off, shouting, "You're washed up, clinging to a man who doesn't want you anymore. Have you no shame?"

Elaine's face hardened. She grabbed a glass of wine and hurled it at Lilian. "Watch your mouth," she said, her voice razor-sharp.

"What's going on here?" That familiar deep voice sent a wave of relief through Elaine—mixed with something strangely close to sadness. She turned to him, her voice tinged with dry amusement as she played the unbothered socialite. "Jeffrey, darling, aren't you going to handle your staff?"

Before she could even finish, Lilian broke free from the guards, launched herself at Jeffrey, and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. Jeffrey didn't hesitate. He pulled her closer and kissed her back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The room went dead silent. Elaine stared at Jeffrey, feeling like her soul had just shattered into a million pieces, each shard carving a fresh cut somewhere deep inside her.

Lilian raised an eyebrow. "So, Jeffrey... who's it gonna be? Your wife, or your new girlfriend?"

Only then did Jeffrey turn his attention to Elaine. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped. Her wine-soaked clothes clung to her, cold and uncomfortable.

"Sorry." He draped his jacket over Lilian's shoulders. "I was going to tell you after today. You've been with me for so many years... I owe you at least one last dignified anniversary."

His gaze dropped to Lilian, softening with affection. "But Lilian is young. Exciting."

"So," Jeffrey continued, taking Lilian's hand and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her, "let me introduce you to my new girlfriend, Lilian Hunter."

Elaine felt a hollow ache as she looked at that face she knew so well—used to love so much. How many times had people asked if she was afraid Jeffrey would stray? If she worried he'd turn out like those men who kept mistresses on the side while swearing loyalty at home?

She always answered with total confidence: "He won't."

That unwavering belief now stung like a slap across her face. She clenched her fists. "Did she seduce you? Or did you go after her?"

Jeffrey stepped in front of Lilian, shielding her. "I fell in love with her. If you have a problem, take it up with me," he said, his brow furrowing. "Don't you dare touch her."

Tears blurred Elaine's vision, her voice trembling. "Jeffrey, I've been with you since I was eighteen. How could you do this to me?"

He snapped, irritation dripping from every word, "Wasn't that your choice?"

Elaine froze, unable to believe her ears.

"You cut off your family in a heartbeat, but I can't leave you when I find someone else?" he shot back. "No one ever said you're supposed to love one person forever. We've been together for ten whole years. I'm just... tired."

With that, Jeffrey scooped Lilian into his arms and walked out.

The room—painstakingly decorated with couple photos for their anniversary—now felt like a gallery of sneering reminders. Every shot of her and Jeffrey laughing together twisted into a mockery, taunting her utter defeat.

She let out a quiet, bitter laugh. One decision—her choice—had turned her devotion into blind indulgence. His boredom had reduced their love to some tired obligation.

When had her cherished relationship become so unbearable?

Elaine reached out to everyone she knew, digging into Jeffrey's life. By the time she got home, a pile of information was waiting on her phone.

All the small details she'd brushed aside now surfaced with ugly clarity. The business trips when Jeffrey didn't answer her calls? Those were actually vacations in the Alps with Lilian. The time he couldn't stay with her while she ran a fever? Lilian needed him for her eye surgery. The busy stretches when he skipped Thanksgiving with her? Jeffrey was meeting Lilian's parents.

He was her husband—but he'd been playing the devoted son-in-law to someone else's family.

Every moment he was absent from her life, he was fully present for another woman. The tears came then, hot and unstoppable, as her heart cracked open.

Her phone buzzed with new messages.

"Still not considering my offer? I'm already packed and ready, Laine."

"Don't block me, Laine. What's so special about that old guy? Just give me a shot. If you don't like it, you can always send me back."

Elaine hesitated, then decided not to block the sender. Her finger hovered for a moment before she pulled up the keyboard and typed.

"One month from now, JFK, Terminal 4. If you can take me away, I'll give you a chance."

"Until then, don't show your face in front of me."