My Husband Fell For Her Lies, Now He Regrets

Spending time with Lucia was a breath of fresh air. For once, I felt like myself again… seen, heard, even happy. The moments stretched out like a soft lullaby, the kind you wish would never end. But time, cruel as ever, kept ticking, and eventually, I had to leave.

I drove back to the house, the place that no longer felt like home. When I got there, I honked at the gate, expecting the gate man to open like he always did. But nothing happened.

I was confused, I got out of the car and knocked. Still no response. That’s when Dana emerged from inside the compound, a grin spread across her face like she’d just won a trophy.

“You didn’t cook,” she announced, smug and loud. “You left the house without a word, left me and my unborn child to starve, you forgot your duties, didn’t you?”

I stared at her, exhausted and frustrated. “Dana, cut the nonsense,” I said. “I’m tired.”

But she only stepped closer and hissed, “You will never be enough, Cynthia. Not for a man. Not for a baby. Not even for yourself.”

I didn’t react. Not with words, not with anger. I just told her again to open the gate. Instead, she stepped back, smirking, and said, “Go back to wherever you came from.” Then she slammed the gate and locked it before I could get to her.

I gave up. The clouds were already dark, and the wind smelled like rain. I climbed back into my car and drove away, heart heavy and spirit crushed. I ended up at a nearby inn.

Surprisingly, I managed to sleep well that night. Sleep had been a rare luxury lately. Most nights, Dana would play baby cries from her phone, turning the silence into a twisted horror show.

“Pregnancy insomnia, huh? Rough,” she’d smirk. “I sleep like a baby, personally. But you can’t.”

That night, though… away from her and the chaos, I finally rested. And when I woke up, I felt… lighter. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to return. I knew what waited for me behind that gate. The insults, the manipulation and loneliness.

So I stayed.

One day turned into three. I didn’t call anyone, I didn’t tell a soul where I was. And no one noticed I was gone. My phone sat silent, no buzzing, no missed calls, no frantic messages. It was quiet, and maybe that was the clearest sign of how invisible I had become.

On the third morning, a knock came at the door. I figured it was room service, but when I opened it, there stood Daniel.

I froze. “How did you…?”

He stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the room. His jaw clenched, and his voice was loud. “What the hell, Cynthia? You deleted your number from my phone so I couldn’t find you? That’s stupid.”

I blinked, confused. “I didn’t delete anything.” Of course, Dana.

She must have gone through his phone and erased my number. Another one of her games. But the bigger question lingered… why did Daniel come looking for me? Did he actually care?

He took a deep breath and said, “Get ready. We’re leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I replied. “I need a few more days.”

He shook his head. “I need you at the house. I’m hosting a party and I want you there. You’re my wife.”

Then, without warning, he kissed me, soft at first, then desperate, like a man trying to remember how it felt to love. One thing led to another, and we ended up making love. It had been so long since he touched me that way. So long since I felt… wanted.

And, God help me, I missed it.

******

Back at the house, Dana’s eyes found me the moment we stepped in. The look she gave me could’ve set a city on fire… burning jealousy mixed with disbelief. I almost smiled.

I wouldn’t have come back if Daniel hadn’t asked me to, hadn’t insisted that I stand by him as his wife. It meant something, even if only a flicker. Maybe I wasn’t completely forgotten after all.

I took charge of the event, making sure everything was perfect. The caterers arrived, the decorations were flawless. The guest list, tight and prestigious. People started to pour in, dressed in their best.

The party had just begun when Dana decided to strike again, pretending to forget my name.

She walked over to a small crowd and gestured toward me. “Carla, right? Or… Cathy? Whatever. You get it.”

She said it with the kind of fake confusion that fools no one just loud enough for everyone to hear. As if I were some hired help, a nameless, forgettable errand girl.

My spine straightened, and my fists clenched, but I didn’t react… not then and not because I didn’t want to. But because when a snake strikes, you don’t hiss back.

You wait, and then you crush it under your heel.