The Football Star’s Ruined Second Chance

"Hey, you! Move out of the frame!" a cameraman shouted.

"Sorry," I muttered. I stepped behind a massive lighting rig.

The training base crawled with media today. I hugged the heavy cardboard box to my chest and hurried toward the private villas in the back. Inside the box sat Kai's custom electrolyte drinks and muscle relaxants. He always needed them right after a heavy session.

"Did you see Kai's interview?" a makeup artist whispered to her friend as I passed.

"Yeah, he looks amazing. Single and rich. What a catch."

"I heard he is dating someone famous."

I kept my head down and walked faster. If only they knew the truth.

Three years ago, my younger sister Luna collapsed in our kitchen. Severe blood disease. The doctors handed me a medical bill I could never hope to pay. Then Kai offered me a deal.

He paid for Luna's treatments. In return, we signed a marriage certificate.

"No public announcements," he had told me on our wedding day. "You live in my house. You take care of my needs. Outside those doors, we are strangers."

I gave up my painting studio. I became a ghost in his life. The invisible caretaker.

I accepted the terms because I loved my sister. I learned to cook Kai's favorite meals. I memorized his schedule. I thought, over time, he might see me as a real wife.

I reached Villa Number Four. The glass patio doors stood wide open.

"Kai, wait," a woman's voice giggled from inside.

I stopped in my tracks.

Kai pressed a woman against the leather sofa. His hands gripped her waist. She tangled her fingers in his dark hair.

Iris. The actress starring in the new action movie filming next door.

They kissed passionately.

My fingers went entirely numb. The cardboard box slipped.

It slammed onto the patio stones. Glass bottles shattered. Blue liquid sprayed across my sneakers.

The loud crash echoed through the villa.

Kai pulled away from Iris. He turned toward the window.

Iris did not jump. She leaned against his shoulder and trailed a manicured nail down his chest.

"Who is that?" Iris asked. Her voice sounded overly sweet.

I stared at Kai. My husband.

Tell her, I prayed silently. Tell her I am someone important.

Kai smoothed his shirt collar. His expression did not change.

"The caretaker."

The words punched all the air from my lungs.

"A caretaker?" Iris laughed softly. "She looks like a stray dog."

"She helps out around the base," Kai added smoothly.

"Well, she made a huge mess," Iris complained.

Kai looked at me.

"Pick that up. Then go make Iris a glass of fruit tea and a salad."

"I brought your recovery drinks," I said. "The doctor said you need them right after practice."

"I said make the tea."

My sneakers stood in a puddle of blue sports drink.

Iris reached up. She hooked her finger around the silver chain on Kai's neck and pulled the pendant out from beneath his shirt.

"This is cute," she purred. "Did a crazy fan give this to you?"

My jaw tightened. I bought that pendant with the last paycheck from my art gallery. I gave it to him three years ago.

"Kai," I said. My voice trembled. "That necklace."

Kai grabbed Iris's hand. He gently pulled the pendant away from her.

"It is just a cheap trinket."

"Cheap?" I asked. "You told me you loved it."

Iris raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me? Why are you talking to him like that?"

"Because he is my—"

Footsteps crunched on the gravel path behind me. Staff members were approaching.

Kai's eyes turned into ice.

"Sylvia," he warned. His tone dropped low. "Remember your identity."

The threat hung in the air. If I caused a scene, he would cut off Luna's medical funds.

I dropped to my knees. The rough stones dug into my skin.

"Do you want me to call security?" Iris asked Kai.

"No need," Kai answered. "She knows her place."

I picked up the broken glass. A sharp edge sliced my thumb, but I ignored the sting.

"Make sure the tea is warm, not boiling," Iris ordered from the sofa.

"I will handle it," I replied softly.

I carried the dripping box into the kitchen.

A junior assistant stood by the fridge, grabbing a water bottle.

"You made a mess out there, Sylvia," the assistant sneered. "Try not to embarrass the boss on media day."

"I slipped," I muttered.

"Just make the tea," the assistant said, walking out.

The silence in the kitchen felt suffocating. I chopped strawberries and peaches. I boiled the water.

I poured the hot tea into a glass mug.

My hands shook. I had spent three years believing we had built a quiet companionship. I cooked his meals. I massaged his injured shoulder. I stayed up late waiting for him to come home from filming.

Today, he shattered it with three words.

I walked back into the living room, holding the tray.

Kai stood by the window, typing on his phone. Iris sat on the sofa, filing her nails.

"Put it here," Iris commanded, tapping the glass coffee table.

I lowered the tray.

"The tea is fresh. It is very hot."

"I know how to drink tea," Iris sneered.

She reached out. Instead of grabbing the handle, she pushed her palm flat against the rim of the mug.

She shoved it directly at me.

The boiling tea vaulted through the air. It splashed entirely over my right hand.

"Ah!" I screamed. I stumbled backward.

The mug hit the floor and broke into pieces.

My skin turned violently red. The pain burned deep into my nerves.

Iris jumped onto the cushions.

"What