The Unwanted Wife

I sighed, watching him leave. This kind of life was incredibly dull. I had nothing to occupy my time, and the house remained eerily quiet despite the presence of four live-in maids.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?" Harper, one of the maids, asked as she entered the kitchen.

"I'm fine, Harper. And please, call me Abi. I've told you before," I replied with a small smile.

She returned the smile and joined me in washing the dishes. Harper, a 46-year-old widow, lost her husband just a year after their marriage—twenty-four years ago. She chose not to remarry, drowning in depression after her husband's death and feeling incapable of providing a stable environment for their child. Harper spent eight months in rehab, slowly regaining stability and remorsefully realizing her mistake in giving up her son for adoption. However, by then, her son had already been adopted by another family, and she had no idea of their whereabouts. The last she heard, they had moved to New York. Harper had never met her son again, burdened with constant self-blame for not being able to raise him. It pained me to witness her agony, and I wished I could help somehow. Harper had become a mother figure to me, caring for me and nursing me back to health whenever I fell ill—unlike Maverick, who displayed no care or concern.

"Harper, what time is Bennett coming here tomorrow?" I inquired, breaking the silence.

"Around 6, Ma'am. Mr. Turner has to leave for work at 7," she responded.

I nodded, contemplating my plans. "Alright. Could you please ask Bennett to drive me into town at 10?"

"Of course, Ma'am," she replied, her tone respectful.

I let out a sigh. "Harper, please, call me Abi. I'm not accustomed to this formal lifestyle. I want you to see me as your friend, not as your superior."

I despised being treated like a superior, especially by someone as kind and wonderful as Harper.

She smiled gently. "Abi, you're very different from Mr. Turner' previous wife."

I snapped my head towards her, astonishment etched on my face. "Wait, what? He was married before?"

Why had I not been informed of this earlier? I had been under the impression that Maverick had never been married.

Harper appeared taken aback by my reaction. "Oh, my apologies. I wasn't supposed to mention that."

"No, please, tell me. Was he married before me?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

Harper seemed nervous, her voice shaky. "Not exactly married, but he did have a fiancée, someone who was about to become his wife. However, she..." Her words trailed off as she hesitated to continue.

Before Harper could finish her sentence, Maverick walked into the room.

"Harper, could you please fetch my phone from my room?" he hurriedly asked.

Harper nodded in agreement. "Of course, Sir. I'll be right back."

She rushed upstairs, leaving Maverick and me alone. The revelation of Maverick's previous engagement lingered in my mind, leaving me lost in thought. He had been engaged before me, and yet, he hadn't deemed it necessary to inform me? To my knowledge, Brooklyn had insisted that Maverick had never been married. I had spent the past six months of our marriage completely unaware.

"What's the matter with you?" Maverick's voice broke through my reverie, his gaze fixed upon me.

I snapped out of my thoughts, meeting his gaze. Now he decided to speak to me?

"It's nothing that concerns you," I retorted coldly, averting my eyes from his.

He thought he was the only one capable of being cold, but he was mistaken. Two could play at that game.

"Whatever. I won't be coming back tonight," he declared, delivering a blow that stung me deeply.

He wouldn't be coming back tonight? Where would he stay? Would there be another woman by his side? I shouldn't have cared, but he was my husband, and these questions tormented my mind.

"Here's your phone, Sir," Harper returned, holding Maverick's phone in her hand before handing it to him.

"Thank you, Harper. By the way, I won't be returning tonight, so you can lock up after I leave," Maverick stated, showing no interest in bidding me goodbye.

Silence engulfed the room. I had tried to be civil, to care for him, to be a good wife. Yet, he refused to spare me a glance. He despised me, and that would never change.

Maverick's POV

Exhaustion washed over me as I finally returned home the next morning after a long and chaotic night at work. The desire to sleep overwhelmed me, and I was grateful that it was Saturday and I had no work to attend to. Finally, I could rest and take a break from the demanding job.

"Good morning, Mr. Turner. Your breakfast is ready," Harper greeted me as she caught sight of my arrival.

"Call Abi and ask her to join me. I'll go shower first," I instructed, making my way upstairs to my room.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but Mrs. Turner left earlier this morning," Harper informed me, causing me to pause in my tracks. Left? Where had she gone?

I turned around to face Harper. "Do you know where she went?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Sir. She only mentioned that she asked Bennett to drive her to town."

I nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright. Call Bennett and inquire about her whereabouts. Let me know once I'm back."

"Will do, Sir."

I entered my room and began undressing, preparing to take a much-needed shower. As the water cascaded over my body, my thoughts started to wander.