The Price Of Her Love: His Lies, Her Truth

I walked into the company like every other worker, blending in as if there was nothing special about me. No one knew the truth—I was Keith’s personal assistant, yes, but also his wife. Our marriage wasn’t public, and some days, it felt like even Keith forgot about it.

I am not here to work today. I came to tell Keith I needed a couple of days off. I wasn’t feeling well— both physically and emotionally. My chest still ached from last night, the image of Keith leaving me to go to Georgia playing on repeat in my head. How could he just walk out on me like that? It hurt. It made me angry. But more than anything, it made me feel small, like I didn’t matter.

I entered the elevator, keeping my eyes down, trying to block out the world. But I couldn’t block out the voices behind me.

“Did you hear?” one woman whispered to the other.

“What?”

“Georgia Dominic is back. You know, the boss’s true love,” she said in a hushed, gossipy tone.

I froze, but they didn’t stop.

“I wonder what’s going to happen to her now,” the first one continued.

“You mean the assistant? I heard she stole her cousin’s rightful place with the boss.”

“Right? But there’s nothing serious between them. Everyone knows he’s just using her to warm his bed.”

Their words were knives, sharp and cutting. My hands curled into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to turn around and tell them the truth—that I wasn’t just some assistant, that I was Keith’s wife. The rightful woman. Not Georgia.

But I didn’t. I kept quiet. Let them think whatever they wanted.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out quickly, needing to get away from their voices. My head was pounding as I made my way straight to Keith’s office. He was standing by the window, staring out at the city like he didn’t have a care in the world.

He heard me come in and turned around. His expression was calm, almost detached. “Is there a problem?” he asked casually, as if everything was fine, as if last night hadn’t happened.

I stared at him, waiting for something—an apology, an explanation, anything. But he didn’t offer one. He wasn’t even going to tell me where he went last night. Fine. If he didn’t want to talk, I wasn’t going to beg.

“I need to take two days off,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

He frowned slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Yes, I wanted to scream. Everything is wrong! I wanted to tell him how I had planned to share the news of my pregnancy with him last night, only for him to leave me for Georgia. I wanted to pour out everything I was feeling, the hurt, the betrayal, the anger.

But I didn’t. I swallowed it all and shook my head. “I’m just not feeling well,” I said simply.

He nodded, still calm, still distant. “Take the leave.”

That was it. No concern, no care. Just permission to leave.

I turned around and walked out of his office, my chest tight and my mind spinning. He wasn’t even treating me like his wife. Though I knew he didn’t love me, the least he could do was show me some affection.

I headed to the parking lot, my head still spinning from everything that had happened. My plan was simple—get to my car and leave. But then I saw her.

The last person I expected to see today.

Georgia.

She was there, on crutches, limping toward me. I froze for a moment, my eyes narrowing as I tried to process the scene. What happened to her? Why was she even here?

“Hey, cuz,” she called out, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Now we were standing face-to-face, and her eyes glinted with something I couldn’t quite place—mockery, maybe?

“How are you doing?” she asked, her tone making it clear she already knew I wasn’t in the best mood. She wanted me to know that she could see it, that she could feel it.

“You’re back,” I said flatly, not bothering to hide the lack of excitement in my voice. “What happened to your leg?”

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Are you feeling sorry for me now because I’m on crutches and limping around?”

I ignored her question. She wasn’t here for pity; I knew better. “What do you want?” I asked instead, keeping my voice steady.

She shrugged, leaning slightly on one crutch. “I just wanted to thank you for taking care of Keith while I was gone.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “It’s my duty,” I shot back. “After all, he’s my husband.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. It was the kind of smile that said she was winning, even though I wasn’t sure what the game was. “Of course,” she said lightly, but her words felt like a warning. She was telling me, without saying it directly, that my time with Keith was over and hers was starting.

Georgia turned to walk away, but one of her crutches slipped from her grip, clattering to the ground. She wobbled, trying to balance.

“Could you help me?” she asked, her voice softer now. “I mean, with my crutch?”

I sighed but bent down to pick it up, handing it back to her. But before she could regain her balance, she fell. Hard.

“Ow!” she screamed, clutching her leg as if she was in excruciating pain.

Before I could even process what had happened, Keith came rushing into the parking lot, his voice booming. “What’s happening here?”

He stopped, his eyes darting between Georgia on the ground and me standing there, stunned. Then his gaze turned icy.

“What have you done to her?” he demanded, stepping closer to me.

“Keith, it’s not what it looks like,” I started, my voice shaking. “She fell—”

But he didn’t let me finish.

“She’s in pain, and you’re just standing there!” he snapped, his voice filled with anger I had never heard before.

“Keith, I didn’t push her. It was an accident,” I tried again, desperate for him to understand.

He didn’t. Instead, he shoved me out of the way. The force caught me off guard, and I stumbled, falling backward. My head hit the side of a nearby car with a sharp thud. Pain exploded through me, radiating from where I’d hit.

Dazed, I watched as Keith bent down, scooping Georgia into his arms like she was the most precious thing in the world. He carried her away, bridal style, without so much as a glance in my direction.

And there I was, lying on the cold pavement, pain throbbing in my head and heart.

He had chosen her.

Not me.