Six Years of Sexless Marriage, My Devout Husband's Hidden Family

Kierra's POV

If Francis wasn’t buying toys, he was in the study telling the kids stories and making them laugh.

“Daddy, do you think the family portrait I drew looks good? This is me, this is my brother, and this is mommy…” Ella’s childish voice echoed from the study.

Francis’s voice followed, warm and amused. “Ella, you’ve done a great job! You’re definitely my daughter.”

I froze, the sharp sting of a needle pricking my finger. A drop of blood quickly welled up.

Once upon a time, Percy had drawn family portraits. His were always the best, full of life and love.

Before he died, he had clung to my leg, his voice shaky as he murmured, “Mommy, do you think Daddy will like the family portrait I drew? He doesn’t seem to like me lately. He won’t talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”

Poor Percy. He was so careful, always worried about upsetting Francis.

A single look or a cold gesture from Francis would leave Percy silently heartbroken, and he would be sad for days. He shouldn’t have had to carry that burden.

The thought twisted my chest.

...

Later that afternoon, I fell into a light sleep on the couch. Then, a loud bang from the study, followed by the unmistakable sound of something shattering.

I didn’t think much of it at first, but when the nanny came by to clean the trash can, something caught my eye.

A broken urn.

I felt the world tilt. My heart raced as I rushed into the study.

“What are you doing?” My voice came out sharp, panicked.

In front of me, Ella and Noah were playing with Percy’s ashes, spreading them across the floor and using them like paint on a canvas.

Ella looked up at me with a mix of annoyance and arrogance. “We’re drawing. Can’t you see? Are you blind?”

I could barely process the scene in front of me. Percy’s ashes—the last piece of him I had left—were scattered, destroyed, scattered across the room.

“Put that down!” I snapped.

Ella didn’t even flinch.

She tilted her head defiantly. “No! This is my daddy’s house, and my daddy said I can do whatever I want.”

As if to prove her point, she poured water over the ashes, turning them into a muddy mess.

Something inside me broke. I lost control. In a rush of anger and pain, I slapped her across the face.

Noah, wide-eyed and frightened, cried out, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

Just as I turned to gather the ashes, Francis burst into the room.

He saw the scene and immediately shoved me to the ground, shielding the two children with his body.

“Kierra, what the hell are you doing?” he growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

I didn’t respond, tears streaming down my face as I desperately tried to salvage the ashes that were slipping away.

The weight of everything from Percy’s death to Francis’s betrayal was too much.

Francis stood there, confused and somewhat stunned, his brow furrowing. “It’s just ashes. Percy’s dead, Kierra. You should let it go. Now you’re the mother of these two kids, and you should focus on taking care of them.”

That was it. My restraint cracked.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Francis, do I owe you something? Or is it Percy who owes you something?” My voice broke, the words heavy with everything I’d been holding in. “You had Percy killed for your illegitimate kids! And now you won’t even let me have his ashes?”

The words hit Francis hard.

He stepped back, his face paling as he absorbed what I’d just said.

“What... what did you say? When did you find out about this?”

I didn’t answer. I just stared at him, every ounce of anger and betrayal swelling inside me.

“Kierra,” he said, stepping closer and grabbing my arm. “Listen, those are just rumors. I couldn’t stand seeing you in so much pain after losing Percy, so I adopted these two kids. You’re their mom now, and I thought—”

I looked down at his hand gripping my arm.

I couldn’t help it. I smiled bitterly, the coldness of the moment sinking in.

Six years we’d been married, and Francis had never wanted any physical contact with me. He wouldn’t hold my hand, let alone kiss me or sleep beside me.

On special occasions, I could only hold on to the sleeve of his jacket.

And now, here he was, desperate to explain himself, to cross all the boundaries he’d set for himself for the sake of keeping these two children.

I pushed his hand away and closed my eyes, blocking out the man I once thought I knew.