The Third Year of Secret Marriage with the Movie Emperor

4

When we got home, I handed Jaxon the divorce papers. I couldn’t understand why he publicly called me his wife and acknowledged our marriage in front of Sloane. But it didn’t really matter—I was planning to leave anyway.

In the car, I sent Sloane a message, but I didn’t get the chance to read his reply later. The moment we got in the car, Jaxon snatched all my electronic devices at lightning speed.

Jaxon took the divorce agreement from me, his lips pressing, and his expression instantly went cold. I just shrank back, heading to my room where I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

The next day, I finally got my phone back. With dark circles under my eyes, I opened up my social media apps. Sure enough, yesterday’s drama was at the top of the trending headlines.

#Jaxon’s Secret Marriage Revealed

#Jaxon’s Wife

#Aurora, the Assistant

I clicked on one of the tags, and three trending posts made my blood run cold, like my heart had stopped beating.

[Jaxon: Married for three years. She’s my wife, please wish us well@AuroraTheAssistant]

[AuroraTheAssistant: He’s my husband @Jaxon]

[Sloane: Congrats @Jaxon @AuroraTheAssistant]

The comment section was chaos—like a circus gone mad. Some people were furious at Jaxon for hiding his marriage, others felt bad for Sloane, and some attacked me, saying I wasn’t good enough for him. There were even people digging up our history from high school through college.

Panic set in as I opened my contact list and found the conversation thread with Sloane. Because Jaxon had taken my phone, the conversation was still stuck on yesterday afternoon.

[Me: Sloane, it’s not what you think. Let me explain.]

[Sloane: It’s okay, no need to explain.]

[Sloane: Congratulations to you guys~]

5

The posts from both Jaxon’s account and mine were all made by Jaxon yesterday while we were in the car. I was overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions I couldn’t even begin to describe.

Then Jaxon’s voice broke through my thoughts, sounding rough, like he hadn’t slept well either.

“Aurora, I’ve been thinking all night,” he said, his tone serious. “You slept with me, so you can’t just leave. You’ve got to take responsibility.”

“Tell me what I did wrong. Can I change?”

I looked up, stunned, and met his gaze. His eyes were dark, glistening with unshed tears, as if they would spill over if I said no.

We’ve been living together for three years. He’s always so cold and distant in public, but at home, he’s gentle. Yet, I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable before.

In all the time we’ve been married, Jaxon and I have only slept together once, that night we drank too much. Since then, we’ve kept our distance, even though we share a home. And in these three years, he’s only called me his wife three times: once yesterday, once today, and once two years ago.

Two years ago, my grandma passed away. My parents died in a car accident when I was in elementary school, so my grandma was the last family I had left. I cried for three days and three nights holding her body and another day and night in front of her tombstone until I passed out.

When I woke up, Jaxon was sitting by my bedside, looking worried and unshaven. All my grief and bitterness came rushing back, and for the first time, I reached out and hugged him.

“Jaxon, I have no one left. I’m all alone now.”

He said, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m still here, and I’ll always be here.”

I have to admit, my heart definitely skipped a beat then.