The Wife Who Never Loved

For two years, my husband Hunter flaunted his affair, using his mistress's fake pregnancy to torture me. I endured it all for our daughter, trapped in a gilded cage where he expected me to mistake his strangling for passion.

Then his mistress whispered cruel lies to my six-year-old, telling her that her daddy would abandon her for the new baby. My daughter vanished.

While I searched frantically, Hunter was unreachable, still with her. When he finally appeared, he shielded his mistress from my desperate rage, his wedding ring glinting as he pushed me away.

With our daughter still missing, he pleaded with me.

"Krystal, she's pregnant, don't hurt her!"

The years of suppressed anger finally exploded. After our daughter was found safe, I looked him dead in the eye and told him the truth he'd been desperate to avoid.

"I want a divorce, Hunter. I never loved you. I hate you."

Chapter 1

I knew my life was a gilded cage, but when Hunter Walls flaunted his affair and then faked a pregnancy to provoke me, I realized he was slowly strangling me, expecting me to mistake the struggle for passion.

A sleek black car purred to a stop outside the mansion. My eyes, weary from a night filled with restless thoughts, barely registered its arrival.

Aubrie Pickett emerged, her silk dress rippling around her. She looked too young, too vibrant for this place.

Hunter Walls leaned against the open door of the car, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His gaze, even through the haze of smoke, found mine. It was cold, unsettling, a silent warning.

My eyes dropped. I felt Aubrie' s hand slip into mine, a gesture she probably thought was solidarity. I pulled away gently.

"He' s waiting for you," I said, my voice flat, almost devoid of emotion.

She wouldn' t find the reaction she craved on my face. No jealousy, no anger. Just a profound emptiness.

Aubrie' s lips thinned, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features. She bit her lip, then turned and walked towards Hunter.

The car door clicked shut. The engine roared, and they drove away.

I stood there for a long time, frozen, the chill from the night seeping into my bones. The silence of the empty driveway amplified the ache in my chest.

"Mommy?" a small, innocent voice chirped from behind me.

I spun around. Kaylee, my six-year-old daughter, stood at the open door, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Why did Daddy leave with that lady?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

My heart twisted. I picked her up, forcing a smile onto my face. It felt brittle, ready to crack.

"He just gave her a ride home, sweetie. You know, like a good friend would."

Kaylee nodded, her small arms wrapping tightly around my neck. I carried her back inside, the lie a bitter taste in my mouth.

Later that night, long after Kaylee had drifted into a peaceful sleep, Hunter still hadn' t returned. I wasn' t surprised. I knew he wouldn' t be home.

Then, a notification pinged on my phone.

It was Aubrie. A new post, a picture of her hand intertwined with Hunter' s. A lavish dinner spread in the background. Her caption boasted about their perfect evening, her "baby daddy" showering her with love.

The image hit me like a physical blow. It was a silent declaration of a happiness I could never have.

I remembered the night Hunter and Aubrie first got together. Aubrie, a budding social media influencer, had been so excited. She had accidentally posted a story about her "first time" with Hunter, thinking it was a private message.

That night, the carefully constructed facade of my calm life had fractured. It wasn' t a clean break. It was a jagged tear, bleeding slowly, but strangely, a sliver of light pierced through it.

The endless nights always brought back the deepest pains. I had borne Hunter a child, tying me to him forever. I had resigned myself to a lifetime entangled with him.

But now… Aubrie was pregnant. And Hunter was serious about her.

A desperate question sparked in my mind: Could I finally be free?