No Longer Yours, Ex Husband
Chapter 1
“Miss, are you absolutely sure you want to cancel your ID, passport, everything?”
Anthony Harris had spent six years proving that I was his everything. His love consumed him, and for a time, I believed I was his entire world. He cherished me in ways I thought would last forever.
But forever did not last long. Four years into our marriage, Anthony betrayed me. He cheated, and the cruelest part was that everyone around us knew, everyone except me.
That was the moment I decided to erase every last trace of who I was.
The clerk's words carried weight, but I did not flinch. I slid the form across the counter with steady hands.
“That’s the point,” I said softly. “I need to disappear so I can start over.”
Later, I learned from my friends that after I deregistered my identity and left, Anthony frantically looked for me.
——
Since my request to erase my identity required a week to process, I returned home with a sigh.
But as I reached the front door, I noticed Anthony was already home. He walked over with that dazzling smile and pressed a kiss to my forehead before hugging me tightly.
The scent of his body odor hit me first, it was warm, familiar, almost comforting like always. But then another fragrance lingered, faint and floral, sharp like a thorn, definitely not mine.
Something inside me cracked, and my heart felt as if it sank a little lower.
“Where have you been? Why are you home after me?” His question, casual on the surface, made tears well up in my eyes unexpectedly.
Four years of marriage and I had never given him a reason to ask that, since I had always been the obedient wife, staying home, ensuring his world was steady and perfect.
A far cry from the girl I once was, one who loved spending time outside to escape the suffocating pain of my broken home. The reason why marriage and divorce were two things I had always wanted to avoid.
But Anthony never seemed to understand that. He did not realize why I made him wait for two long years before I finally accepted him.
It was not because I did not care for him, but because I was terrified of giving someone my heart only to have it broken.
And yet, after I spent four years loving him, trusting him, and building a life together, he cheated on me so easily, so carelessly. As if the years I gave him meant nothing.
I also suddenly started to be aware that Anthony had been coming home late, claiming to be swamped with work. The classic excuse of a husband with a mistress.
And Julie Osborn, his secretary, was more than just his mistress.
That afternoon, I had wanted to surprise him. I spent hours preparing his favorite dish, imagining the warm smile he would give me.
Instead, I was the one surprised, by the sight of them locked in a passionate kiss when the lift I wanted to take opened its door.
He had her pressed against the elevator wall, his back to the door.
They did not even stop their activity, even when I stepped into the elevator or the other employees, as if they had done that a hundred times before.
I could see Julie glanced at me, a triumphant gleam in her eyes, as though daring me to react.
Some employees who started to notice me too, shifted their expressions from calm to surprise.
It hit me then. Everyone knew. Everyone except me.
By the time the elevator reached the top floor, I had left. I threw the lunchbox into the nearest trash can and headed straight to town hall to begin erasing my existence.
So, when I was standing before Anthony, wrapped in a hug that once felt like home but then carried the shadow of another woman, I could not stop the flood of emotions.
The heartache and disappointment cut so deep that my tears betrayed me before I could even find the words.
Since I stayed silent, he loosened his embrace, his brow furrowing in concern when he noticed my tears.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle, almost panicked. “Did someone hurt you before?”
I swallowed hard, pushing the truth deep down where it would not surface. “No, I… I’m fine. I lost track of time reading at the café. The novel was sad, and I guess I got caught up in it.”
Relief softened his features. He leaned in, pressing his cheek against mine, his warmth a mockery of the cold reality I then lived in.
“How about you stop reading sad stories, hmm?” he murmured, his tone tender. “Didn’t I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world?”
His words, once sweet, that time felt hollow.
Since in the eyes of others, my life in London seemed the epitome of perfection.
Married into a billionaire family with generational wealth, my only responsibilities were to take care of myself, oversee the sprawling Manor, and bask in the adoration of my husband.
But perfection was fragile. Especially when a third person wedged themselves into a world meant for two.
So, I would step aside. I would let Anthony find happiness with his new woman, even if it meant erasing my place in his life.
After all, saying goodbye to the luxury I had enjoyed for four years was not the hard part.
The hard part was staying under the same roof with a man who no longer loved me, a man who was already building a future with someone else.
“All those heartbreaks in those stories aren’t real,” he continued. “But our happiness is.”
But Anthony, if only you knew. The heartbreak I felt was not fiction. It was real, so real until it suffocated me more than any sad story ever could.
Chapter 2
Freedom from Anthony still felt agonizingly out of reach. Another week tethered to this life, another week of pretending.
We, once again, spent another night lying in the same bed, but the warmth of Anthony’s embrace felt like a distant memory.
Instead of comfort, his touch made my skin crawl as images of his hands exploring another woman filled my mind.
Sleep eluded me as my thoughts spiraled, replaying the scene in the elevator. How casual it was for him and Julie, how the employees barely reacted as if their affair was an open secret.
When morning came, Anthony woke me as he always did, teasingly lifting me from bed.
It was a ritual that had once made me feel cherished. But then, it only made me feel sick.
‘Could they have done this, too? Shared these same intimate moments behind my back?’ I wondered.
However, Anthony, oblivious to my coldness, brushed it off.
He had grown used to pursuing me during the early days of our relationship, back when I kept my walls high.
To him, that was just another challenge to win me over again. But to me, the romance had soured beyond repair.
Even breakfast, once a cherished time, became unbearable. Every smile he gave me felt fake, every kiss a betrayal.
After he left for work, my phone buzzed with a message from the hospital, reminding me of my scheduled prenatal check-up.
It could very well be my last.
I decided to bring a box of doughnuts to the nurses and doctors who had supported me over the years.
They had worked tirelessly to help me, but in the end, I did not even want the child that Anthony and I had once dreamed of together.
“Miss Harris, that’s so thoughtful of you,” the nurse said as she accepted the treats. “Thank you so much.”
I forced a polite smile. “Anytime,” I said flatly.
As I turned to find a seat in the waiting room, my breath caught in my throat. There they were—Anthony and Julie.
They emerged from the gynecologist clinic together, Anthony’s hand resting tenderly on her flat stomach.
In Julie’s hand was a pregnancy book, her name printed clearly across the cover.
I froze, a thousand questions racing through my mind. ‘Was this their baby? But how?’
The irony was almost laughable. Anthony, the man who had introduced me to this very obstetrician, brought his mistress there, thinking I would not notice.
“So even the doctor knows about this?” I muttered under my breath, the ache in my heart intensifying. It felt like a thousand knives stabbing me all at once.
Did his family know, too?
Standing alone in the hallway, I wondered just how far their betrayal went. It was his family, after all, who had brought Anthony into my life in the first place.
I had never imagined becoming part of the Harris family. I was just an ordinary girl, fresh out of college, interning at the prestigious Harris Group to save for my dream of becoming a beauty content creator.
I needed the money to fund my equipment, so I focused on my work, staying out of office politics.
But fate had other plans.
On my first day, I found myself alone in the elevator with an older man who seemed unwell. His right hand clutched his chest while his left gripped his walking stick tightly.
“Sir, are you okay?” I asked hesitantly.
Before he could answer, he collapsed. Panic surged through me as I pressed the emergency button and dropped to my knees to perform CPR.
The basic training I had learned in college became a lifeline, and when the ambulance arrived, the EMTs told me that my quick response had saved his life.
Only then did I learn his identity—Anton Harris, the founder of the Harris Group.
The incident changed my quiet internship into a whirlwind of attention. The Harris family showered me with gratitude, but none more so than Anthony.
He pursued me relentlessly.
At first, I felt burdened by his attention. He helped me with difficult tasks at work, drove me home when I worked late, and sent gifts to my apartment despite my protests.
When I fell ill, Anthony even showed up at my doorstep, carrying me to the hospital.
I tried to dissuade him. “Mr. Harris, please don’t do this. I didn’t save your grandfather expecting anything in return. It was just the right thing to do.”
His response startled me. “I didn’t pursue you because you saved my grandfather,” he said softly, his eyes unwavering.
Confused, I frowned, but he quickly continued. “I liked you long before that. I first saw you on campus when I was in my final year. I watched you from afar because I couldn’t find the courage to approach you. When I found out you applied here, it felt like destiny finally gave me a chance.”
“But….” I hesitated, overwhelmed by his words.
“You don’t have to worry about my family,” he interrupted gently. “They’ve already given their blessing. We could get married right now if you wanted.”
I shook my head, trying to stay rational. “That doesn’t seem right, Mr. Harris. We haven’t even gotten to know each other properly yet.”
He smiled warmly, unfazed. “Then let me prove myself to you. Give me two years. By then, I’ll propose properly, and you can decide. In the meantime, let’s use this time to get to know each other. Please, give me that chance.”
Believing in the sincerity of his words, I nodded.
For the first time in my life, I experienced a kind of affection I had only ever dreamed of.
Still, I carried doubts. Growing up, I had seen love fall apart so easily, leaving only pain and regret behind.
But those two years felt like enough time to convince myself that maybe, just maybe, he was the one.
And so, I said yes.
Our wedding was everything Anthony had promised—a grand affair that captured the envy of everyone. He even bought an entire building and named it ‘Fortune Daisy’ as a tribute to me.
The announcement went viral, and strangers online praised me for “living the dream.”
But that dream had come at a cost.
To protect his family’s privacy, Anthony convinced me to give up my dream of becoming a beauty content creator.
He did not want our lives exposed online except for carefully curated moments, like grand banquets or public appearances.
At first, I felt disappointed, but I told myself it was for the best.
I could not have been more wrong.
My thoughts returned to the hospital. Julie had noticed me standing there, but instead of acknowledging me, she smirked with smug satisfaction.
Her smile and the triumph in her eyes were trying to provoke me.
Chapter 3
The moment Anthony’s gaze followed hers, she skillfully redirected his attention, walking in the opposite direction. That cunning fox had mastered her game.
Seeing them together had been unbearable, but not as painful as the first time I saw them in the elevator.
I left the hospital and went home, heading straight to the closet to sort through my belongings.
As I packed, I regretted not spending the day preparing my departure instead of going to the hospital. But maybe fate had intervened to show me how far their betrayal had gone.
My eyes landed on the wedding photo. I froze, all I felt was a suffocating bitterness.
Four years ago, we were so happy, or so I thought. But in just a few years, everything had unraveled.
I could not help crying while sorting through my belongings. Each item carrying its own story, a bittersweet memory of my life with Anthony, so I decided to sell it.
After all, I had brought so little with me when I first moved in. Everything else like the jewelry, the designer clothes, and the extravagant décor were gifts from Anthony, tokens of a love I then knew was conditional.
Piece by piece, I packed them into boxes, pausing occasionally as memories threatened to overwhelm me.
Once I finished packing and upload the items to sell, I dropped them off and returned to the sofa to rest.
Idly scrolling through message, I switched to my second account and searched for Julie’s page.
I hesitated before pressing enter, bracing myself for whatever I might find.
Her profile loaded quickly, and there it was—a fresh update from two hours ago.
My heart clenched as I tapped on Julie’s update, dreading what she had shared but unable to stop myself.
The caption hit like a punch to the chest, [Our love is complete now -AJ]
The ultrasound photo left no room for doubt. She had boldly displayed their initials, making it abundantly clear that Anthony was hers.
It was not enough for her to betray me behind closed doors; she wanted the world to know.
I wanted to slam my phone against the wall, to destroy the reminder of everything I had lost. But before I could act, the door flew open abruptly.
Anthony stood there, his face a mix of confusion and irritation.
“Daisy, what’s going on? Why did I see your stuff at the second-hand marketplace?”
Ah, so he finally noticed.
The items he gave me—rare, custom, and often one-of-a-kind—were unmistakable.
A year ago, for our anniversary, he had even given me shares in a beauty brand, claiming it was a way for me to be involved in the industry since he did not want me to become an influencer.
“Even if you can’t promote beauty, you can own it,” he had said with pride.
But Anthony never understood what I truly needed. It wasn’t stocks, it wasn’t things—it was support for my dreams.
So, I replied coldly, “I don’t think I need them anymore,”
“Don’t joke, Daisy,” he snapped, his voice hard. “If I see you sell anything again, I won’t give you anything else. Do you even know how hard I worked to collect those for you? They’ll be back here by tomorrow, so take care of them.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity. He had gone and repurchased everything, as if that would solve the problem.
Before I could retort, Anthony crossed the room and scooped me into his lap effortlessly. His playful tone clashed with my simmering anger.
“So, tell me why are you acting like that? Are you still upset because I forgot your birthday last month?” he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.
That had been the first time in six years he missed something important to me. It was the time he had been in Hawaii with Julie, opening a resort—and, as I later discovered, making a baby.
“I’m not upset,” I started, but he silenced me by pressing a finger to my lips.
“Shh… I know I messed up,” he whispered, leaning closer. “But I’ve got a surprise for you. It’s been approved today, and I think you’ll love it. Guess what it is?”
I rolled my eyes, uninterested in his games. “A beauty brand again?”
Anthony chuckled, clearly unbothered by my lack of enthusiasm. “Oh, you’re sharp. But no, not this time. You’ll just have to pack so we can go and pick it up.”
Before I could respond, he hoisted me into his arms and carried me to the closet. But the sight of my packed suitcases stopped him in his tracks.
“Wow, baby girl, you’ve outdone yourself! You’ve already packed for the trip? I’ll get the maid to pack my stuff too. Let’s head to the airport.”
I sighed, utterly drained by his obliviousness. Even as he saw my things packed away, he assumed it was for his plans.
Still holding me bridal-style, Anthony carried me down the stairs, ignoring my protests.
I bit my tongue, knowing it would be futile to explain. But that would be my last trip as Daisy Harris, and I would not let him take that away.
Curious about where we were headed, I stared out the window of the private plane. But my thoughts were interrupted as Anthony slid closer, his hand wandering suggestively.
“We haven’t done this in the sky for a long time,”he whispered.
I felt the bile rise in my throat. How many times had he used that same tone, those same words, with Julie?
Chapter 4
"I’m not in the mood, Anthony," I said firmly, rejecting his advances.
Anthony crossed his arms, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face before he replaced it with a softer tone. “So, you are sulking,” he muttered. “I swear, you’ll be happy with this one, trust me.”
When I did not respond, he simply stroked my head gently and dropped the subject, for a moment.
After we landed, Anthony revealed his plan to make up for missing my birthday. He had brought me to Paris. The city of love. The city was full of memories of our first trip together.
“Let’s have dinner first,” he said, smiling warmly. “I’ve booked a table at the Eiffel Tower.”
I could not deny that Paris once meant the world to me. It had been the first country I visited outside of London, and Anthony had gone all out to make that trip magical.
But returning to the place only deepened my heartbreak. I could not enjoy it anymore, knowing the truth.
During dinner, I barely touched my food, pushing it around the plate aimlessly.
“You used to love Tuna Steak,” Anthony said, frowning slightly. “Does it not suit your palate this time?”
“I’m just not hungry,” I replied flatly.
Anthony leaned closer, his face lighting up with excitement. “Then let’s go. You’re going to love this.”
He led me to the boutique of a luxury brand, where we were greeted by a manager and a secretary. As the secretary handed me a contract, Anthony’s enthusiasm spilled over.
“Babe, I’ve bought you a luxury brand now. Please sign it,” he beamed, clearly expecting me to be thrilled.
I signed the papers without looking at him.
“Oh, I’ve already spoken with the brand. They’ve reserved some limited-edition designs just for you. They’re all your style,” he continued.
As I finished signing, I answered, my voice cold and distant. “Alright. Thanks.”
After the contract was completed, the manager ushered us inside to view their collection. Staff hurried to bring out the items Anthony had arranged for me.
As I stood beside him, I leaned in and whispered, “Anthony, you don’t have to do all this for me anymore.”
His face fell slightly, confused. “Daisy, you’re my whole world. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy—even for the years ahead, forever.”
Oh, Anthony, if only you knew. There were no more years for us. Not anymore.
“Just keep choosing,” he said abruptly, cutting off my train of thought. “I’ll wait for you in the dressing room, okay?”
Without waiting for my response, he stepped away, pulling out his phone as he walked.
I sighed and turned to the staff. “That’s all. Thank you.”
Reluctantly, I made my way to the dressing room, trying on a few items as quickly as possible.
Even when Anthony could not resist complimenting me, I offered him only a flat expression.
But he did not actually notice, since he was too busy with his phone, the screen lighting up repeatedly as he exchanged messages.
“I’m done, Anthony,” I said to snap him out of it.
He pocketed his phone and glanced at me, clearly surprised. “Oh, that’s all? That’s unusual. You look perfect in everything. Just take them all, so you can wear something new every hour if you want.”
The brand manager, who had been watching the entire exchange, chimed in with admiration.
“Mr. Harris, you really are the ultimate husband. I’ve never seen anyone dote on his wife like this. No wonder you’re such a successful young CEO.”
Anthony smiled graciously, returning the compliment. “That’s because your products are excellent. And, of course, my beautiful wife makes everything look even better.”
The staff around us sighed with envy, whispering about how this felt like a scene straight out of a romantic novel.
I wanted to shout, “Trust me, this is not a romantic novel!”
But I could not. I had to maintain the dignity of the Harris family. Instead, I turned to Anthony and said, “I’m exhausted. Let’s head back to the hotel.”
Anthony immediately wrapped up the conversation with the manager. “Send my wife’s picks to my address. I’ll have my secretary handle the payment.”
“Of course, Mr. Harris. Thank you,” the manager replied with a satisfied smile.
On the way to the hotel, I could not help but think, ‘So, since Julie became his secretary months ago, she has been handling his expenses these days. How much has she spent on herself while pretending to be professional?’
When Anthony went to take a shower, I seized my chance. Grabbing his phone, I searched through his financial records.
And there it was. The trip to Hawaii was not just about inaugurating the resort with Julie. Anthony had bought her an island.
An entire island. For her.
What was more, Anthony had named the island after her. ‘Lovely Julie,’ just like when he bought me a building and named it.
Curiosity burned inside me, so I scrolled through his Cloud storage, only to find countless romantic photos of them together, stored with care. My chest tightened in fury.
How shameless!
Anthony had always insisted on hiring male secretaries, claiming he felt uncomfortable with unknown women in close proximity.
I should have been suspicious when his longtime male secretary resigned and was swiftly replaced by Julie Osborn, a woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere.
I never thought a third party would be the reason for our separation. Yet here I was. Anthony had chosen his path, so then it was time for me to choose mine.
I sent all the incriminating evidence to my phone and uploaded it to a secure cloud folder, including screenshots of Julie’s posts hinting at their relationship. They were careful not to be overt, but the implications were clear.
As I finished, Anthony emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp, a towel draped around his neck. He looked at me with a teasing smirk, clearly mistaking the disgusting expression on my face.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice low. “After getting what you want, you seem ready for me to touch you.”
I forced a smile, walking closer to him. “Everything for you, my dear.”
I could not stop imagining Julie in my place. Did she feel the same thrill when Anthony held her?
What had made him turn away from me?
Was everything he said six years ago a lie?
Or had he simply grown bored that he had me and wanted a new, more challenging conquest?
These questions filled my head even as Anthony whispered in my ear, “Thank you, baby girl. I feel alive again now.”
When he finally fell asleep, I slipped out of bed and cleaned myself up before stepping onto the balcony.
The Parisian night sky, once magical to me, that night felt like a cruel joke—a bitter reminder of the evidence I had uncovered.
Unconsciously, I muttered, “In a few days, it’ll be our fourth wedding anniversary. What a gift you’ve given me, Anthony. I’ll make sure to return the favor.”
Chapter 5
The next morning, we returned home earlier than planned because Anthony needed to get back to work. Over breakfast on the plane, I decided to test him.
“Babe,” I began casually, cutting into my croissant, “what do you think about the male protagonist in the novel I’m reading?
“He cheated on his wife even though he was so devoted to her in the beginning. They had been together since childhood, but a new woman came along and… well, I guess she was more excited for him.”
Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s the shallowest reason I’ve ever heard.
“Babe, you’ve always been the most challenging woman I’ve ever met. Imagine how much you rejected me six years ago. It wasn’t easy getting you to say yes.”
I gripped my knife tighter, imagining it cutting into something more than just my croissant.
“Right,” I said, forcing a smile. “You pursued me so much back then. I can’t imagine you doing what the male protagonist did.”
Anthony gulped, sensing something in my tone, but quickly turned the moment around. He plucked a piece of croissant from my plate and brought it to my lips.
“Don’t imagine it. I would never do that to you,” he said, brushing his thumb across my lips to wipe off some jam.
It hit me like a slap.
“Such a Casanova,” I muttered under my breath.
“What did you say?” he asked, glancing up.
“Oh, nothing,” I replied smoothly. “I was just saying how delicious this croissant is. Do you know where they bought it?”
“I’ll ask the flight attendant later,” he said with a grin. “You can have it every day if you want.”
“You’re so thoughtful.”
To anyone watching, we looked like the perfect couple. Anthony, the charming husband, and me, the devoted wife.
But perfection was a façade, and even the most perfect husbands like Anthony could cheat.
At the airport, Anthony excused himself, claiming he needed to go to the company quickly. But I followed him discreetly and saw him head to the parking lot, where Julie waited in a car.
They shared an intimate kiss before driving off together.
I also did not wait another moment. I went straight to the courthouse to have a divorce agreement printed.
I did not want his money, his properties, or any of the privileges his name offered. Even if the document was straightforward, outlining how I had been the one harmed by his affair.
“This will be both an anniversary and a farewell gift,” I whispered to myself as I signed it, sealing the end of the life I once thought was a dream.
Then, I spent the rest of my day at a quiet book café, refusing to return to the Manor after we arrived from Paris.
The thought of going back to that place, filled with memories of us and tainted by Anthony’s betrayal, was unbearable.
But in the late afternoon, Anthony called. His voice carried a mix of confusion and concern.
“Where are you? The butler said you haven’t returned home since earlier. When the driver came to the airport, he said that you have gone.”
I kept my tone casual, masking the irritation bubbling beneath. “Oh, I went shopping with a friend. Sorry, I didn’t tell you first. She’s the one who picked me up at the airport.”
There was a pause on the line, then Anthony laughed softly. “You must not have been satisfied with the shopping in Paris last night. No wonder you only chose a few things.”
“No, the items in Paris were lovely,” I replied smoothly. “I just bought some jewelry to complete them.”
“Ah, I see. Well, it’s perfect timing because I’m inviting you to my friends’ party tonight. Go home now; I’ve sent a stylist to the house to help you get ready,” he explained cheerfully, as if everything in our lives was picture-perfect.
I gave a brief, noncommittal answer. “Okay.”
Despite agreeing, dread settled in my chest. None of Anthony’s friends liked me. No matter how much effort I put into being polite and accommodating, I could always sense their disdain.
To them, I was the ordinary girl who had somehow ended up with Anthony Harris. They could not hide their envy, and some did not even try, often making snide comments disguised as jokes.
And worse, I knew some of them actively tried to introduce Anthony to other women.
‘Could Julie have been one of them?’ I wondered bitterly.
That question did not linger unanswered for long.
When I arrived at the party, the answer was painfully clear. All of Anthony’s friends seemed to know Julie. Their casual remarks about her being late due to traffic spoke volumes.
They were far too familiar with her, exchanging knowing looks and laughing like she was part of their inner circle.
It hit me like a slap—every single one of them knew about his affair.
My jaw tightened as I turned to Anthony, keeping my voice steady but laced with accusation. “So, your secretary is one of your friends?”
Chapter 6
Anthony’s eyes could not help shaking after hearing that. “She….”
But before he could respond properly, one of his friends interjected, laughing, “No, she’s my friend! But come on, if she’s at the party, we’re all friends, right?
“I actually introduced her to Anthony when his secretary resigned. She was majoring in secretary, so it seemed like a good fit.”
“Right,” another friend added, nudging Anthony playfully. “Having a secretary you already know must be fun, huh, Anthony?”
I caught the faint blush that crept across Anthony’s face, but I kept my expression neutral, feigning innocence.
“I see,” I said with a polite smile, “so she’s someone you can trust.”
The room erupted into laughter, as if I had no idea what was really going on. They thought I was clueless.
Then the door swung open, and someone announced, “Here she comes—our Julie!”
Julie entered, her laughter filling the room as she greeted everyone. It was like she was their star performer, the favorite child in a room full of admirers.
As she chatted with the group, Julie began boasting loudly about being pregnant. Her hand stroked her stomach in exaggerated motions, and everyone rushed to congratulate her.
I leaned in close to Anthony and whispered, “Who’s the father? I thought one of your requirements for hiring a secretary was that they couldn’t get married within five years of applying. Julie’s only been with you for a few months.”
Anthony shifted nervously. “Well… I changed the policy. I didn’t want to lose another secretary just because they wanted to get married.”
“Oh, so she’s married then?” I pressed, my voice calm but cutting.
“She….” Anthony stammered, searching for an answer.
But before he could finish, Julie approached us, beaming with delight.
“Oh my god, you’re Mrs. Harris, right? I’ve been such a huge fan of yours for ages!” she gushed.
Julie did not even wait for my response before sitting beside me, chatting animatedly.
“You know, everyone at the office is always talking about how you and Mr. Harris met. What a love story! So romantic.”
While Julie leaned in closer to me, Anthony shifted uncomfortably, choosing to busy himself with the others.
So, after seeing Anthony did not focus on us anymore, her tone turned conspiratorial as she said, “You know, I used to be so jealous of your love story. I mean, who wouldn’t dream of a husband like yours? But guess what—my dream came true!”
She giggled, her hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear in what she likely thought was a charming gesture.
“Oh, really?” I replied dryly, my patience running thin.
Julie lowered her voice, as though we were best friends sharing secrets. “Yeah, it’s a secret, but he’s as handsome as yours.”
The audacity of her words made my blood boil, but I refused to let her see me falter. Instead, I maintained a blank expression.
“Anyway,” she chirped, “can I add you on IG? We should totally hang out sometime—maybe get facials together or something!”
I handed over my username without protest. “Sure,” I said simply.
After adding me, she linked her arm through mine as if we were old friends, rattling on about her boyfriend who gave her an apartment, a company, and even an island.
She did not realize her careless boasting provided me with valuable evidence to strengthen my case for divorce.
Finally, I interrupted her, forcing a polite smile. “Can you excuse me for a moment? I need to use the restroom.”
Julie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, perfect timing! I need to go too. Let’s go together.”
Reluctantly, I let her follow me.
But, as we reached the restroom door, Julie accidentally dropped her bag, scattering its contents.
Among the items was an ultrasound photo. She bent down to gather her things, flashing me a smug smile.
“Oops, you saw my baby, right? Yes, I’m pregnant—with Anthony’s child.”
I knew it. She intended to mock me again.
But I did not give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Without a word, I stepped into the restroom, leaving her to pick up her things.
When I emerged, Julie was waiting at the sink, her voice as grating as ever.
“You are so lucky to have a husband like Anthony who is really romantic,” she said, as if we were gossiping about boys at a sleepover. “But unfortunately, you can’t give him satisfaction.
“Oh, and Mrs. Harris, didn’t you see us in the elevator? That’s actually our habit, so don’t act surprised by that when you find out later.
“And wasn’t that you at the hospital? Or did I mistake you for someone else? But we really checked on our baby there, it’s been 4 weeks.”
She leaned closer, her voice lowering mockingly. “What’s certain is that we’ll be a family soon, so can I call you Daisy instead of Mrs. Harris?”
Her words sent a surge of anger through me, but I kept my composure, clutching my bag tightly as I stayed at the restroom.
When I opened the door, she had gone, so I washed my hand on the sink angrily. I swear I would yank her hair if I saw her later.
But when I returned to the party, my blood ran cold. What I saw going on in the room from the door almost made me sick.
Chapter 7
Julie was perched on Anthony’s lap, her arms draped around his neck as she laughed mischievously.
I clenched my fists, my fury barely contained. Julie had no shame, and Anthony… he used any chance to get closer with her when I was not around, without considering I could be returned anytime.
Anthony’s focus was entirely on Julie. He did not even notice that I had returned and was standing in the doorway, watching them.
Some of his friends glanced at me, their expressions a mix of awkwardness and indifference.
But, none of them commented on my presence. Instead, they egged Anthony on, urging him to do a love shot with Julie.
“Come on, Anthony, show the world how happy you two are!” one of them teased, laughing as if this was all some grand joke.
Fueled by alcohol, Anthony complied, pulling Julie closer as the scene grew more intimate.
Laughter and cheers erupted, filling the room with a sickening camaraderie that left me frozen in place.
It was heartbreaking.
These were the same people who had never supported my relationship with Anthony, even after we were married.
Yet there they were, openly celebrating his affair with Julie, acting as though she was the rightful woman by his side.
I could feel my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. But I decided to turn and left the bar without looking back.
“Enjoy the night, Anthony,” I said, my voice low but cutting.
Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, drenching me almost instantly. It mirrored my mood perfectly.
I did not hail a taxi. Instead, I ran into the downpour, letting it hide the tears streaming down my face.
Mascara and eyeliner mixed with the rain, streaking my face in chaotic lines. My hair clung to my skin, and my dress was soaked through, but I did not care.
I looked like an insane person—crying, drenched, and disheveled. But at least the storm gave me cover to vent my anger, my heartbreak, and my despair.
Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.
[Anthony: Where are you?]
[Daisy: Going home, since I'm not feeling well. Just enjoy the party, don't mind me.]
[Anthony: Okay, take care. I think I will go home late, so just call me if you need something.]
I did not bother replying again. There was no need—after all, I already knew the real reason he would be staying late.
Once home, I drew a hot bath, sinking into the water as if it could wash away the storm inside me.
The heat wrapped around me, but my body, overwhelmed by heartbreak and the hours spent drenched in rain, began to falter.
I must have passed out in the bathtub. When I finally stirred, an IV was in my hand, and I was lying in a hospital bed. Anthony was sitting nearby, his face filled with concern.
But it was not just Anthony. Julie was there too.
I blinked several times, unsure if I was hallucinating. But no, it was her, sitting with feigned politeness, her presence a mockery of everything I had endured.
Anthony noticed I was awake and immediately took my hand. “Are you finally awake?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry.
I met his gaze coldly and sneered, “Are you actually worried?”
His brow furrowed, and he gripped my hand tighter. “You passed out all night and only woke up at 9 this morning. Imagine how worried I was!
“You said you weren’t feeling well last night, why didn’t you tell me it was this serious? I would’ve taken you here right away if I’d known.”
His words spilled out, leaving me no room to respond. Julie, seated nearby, rolled her eyes but said nothing.
Anthony’s affection used to melt my heart, but at that moment, it felt like nothing more than an act.
I pulled my hand away sharply. “You’re squeezing me too hard. The IV pricked me.”
“Oh, right. I’m sorry.” He stood up quickly. “I’ll call the doctor to check on you.”
Then, turning to Julie, he added, “Please take care of Daisy for a moment.”
Julie responded with her usual saccharine tone, “Yes, Mr. Harris.”
As soon as Anthony left, I turned my face away, unwilling to look at her. Julie, surprisingly, kept quiet and simply sat beside my bed.
Perhaps she understood the need to maintain appearances in public.
Just then, a notification popped up on my phone, which was resting on the bedside table. My US visa approval had come through. Julie, ever curious, noticed it immediately.
“Well,” she said, her tone casual but probing, “we don’t need a visa to vacation in the US. Are you planning to stay forever?”
I snatched my phone from the table. “That’s none of your business,” I snapped.
Before she could respond, Anthony returned with the doctor, and I tucked my phone out of sight.
After a brief examination, the doctor informed me that I could be discharged the next day if my fever continued to subside.
Breakfast was brought in shortly after, and Anthony, in his usual overbearing way, insisted on feeding me.
“I can eat by myself,” I said firmly.
“Are you embarrassed because Julie’s here?” he teased, misreading my mood entirely.
Julie, ever the opportunist, smiled politely. “Oh, that’s right. I shouldn’t intrude. Forgive me. I’ll head to the office and handle your work for today, Mr. Harris.”
“Right. Please take care of things, Julie,” Anthony said, nodding at her.
She grabbed her bag and flashed me a sweet, insincere smile. “Get well soon, Mrs. Harris.” Then she left, her exit as calculated as her presence.
The moment the door closed, I suppressed the urge to confront Anthony.
I already knew the truth. They had been together when the maid called Anthony about my condition, and he had not left Julie behind.
The world might think it was normal for a secretary to accompany her boss, but I knew better. They could fool everyone else, but they could not fool me.
Anthony, oblivious to my thoughts, resumed feeding me. “I actually planned a vacation to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” he said, trying to sound thoughtful. “But with your health, it might have to wait.”
So, he did remember our anniversary. How ironic.
I smiled faintly, masking my disgust. “That’s okay. A gift is enough for me. We can vacation anytime.”
“Great. I’ll make sure it’s something luxurious,” he said, clearly satisfied with his plans.
I nodded, my voice soft. “I’ll have something for you too.”
His face lit up with childlike excitement. “Really? I can’t wait to see it!”
As he yawned, I asked, “Did you not sleep all night?”
“I’m fine. I’m used to staying up late for work,” he replied, brushing it off.
“No, no. You need to rest. After breakfast, go to sleep. I’ll be fine,” I insisted.
He hesitated but eventually nodded, “Then I’ll sleep on the sofa for a few hours.”
Within minutes, he was soundly asleep, his even breaths filling the room.
I glanced at him, ensuring he was truly out, and then reached for his phone. The more evidence I gathered, the sooner I could escape this nightmare of a marriage.
Just as I unlocked his phone, both our phones buzzed simultaneously.
It was making my heart leap.
So, I immediately glanced at Anthony, expecting him to not wake up. Fortunately, exhaustion kept him firmly asleep.
I checked his phone first.
Julie had messaged him, [You have to pay because last night we didn’t get to enjoy our time together as promised, okay?]
Accompanying her message were photos of tourist destinations in Japan.
[Julie: When I was scrolling through tourist attractions, Japan kept appearing on my homepage. It seems like a sign that we should go there. You said you wanted to celebrate my pregnancy, right? So how about a babymoon in Japan tomorrow?]
Since Anthony had not replied, Julie sent another message—a photo of her with a pleading expression.
[Julie: Please, our baby will love it too.]
The sight of her theatrics made my stomach churn. “That’s so disgusting,” I muttered under my breath.
Before scrolling further through their chat, I switched to my own phone. Julie had sent me several provocative messages.
Chapter 8
[Julie: You were sick on purpose to prevent me from being alone with Anthony last night, right? I didn’t expect you to be so cunning after I told you about our relationship.]
Attached were photos of her and Anthony, including one of him sleeping next to her.
[Julie: Our relationship has come this far, so you can’t even do anything about it, Daisy. We even have a baby, so I hope you’ll just accept it without causing trouble.]
She followed it up with a warning, [We’ll go to Japan tomorrow, so make sure not to disturb us anymore, or I’ll share proof of our affair online.]
How dare she threaten me!
Her arrogance burned through me like a flame, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing my anger. I kept my response short, [Just go.]
The moment I sent the message, Julie’s name lit up Anthony’s phone, her call coming through almost instantly. My stomach churned with disgust, but I forced myself to remain composed.
I quickly locked Anthony’s phone and reached over to wake him.
“Anthony, your phone is ringing,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “It might be something urgent from the office.”
Anthony stirred, groggily rubbing his eyes as he reached for the phone. He answered it, and within moments, his posture stiffened, his voice growing sharp and alert.
“I need to go,” he said abruptly, already grabbing his jacket.
I glanced at him, my expression unreadable.
“Just go,” I replied coldly, echoing the exact words I had sent to Julie earlier.
He paused for a moment, his gaze softening. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on my forehead.
“Make sure to rest and take your medicine,” he murmured before rushing out the door.
As the sound of the door closing echoed through the room, I released a breath I did not realize I had been holding.
I stared at the empty space he had left behind, the void a perfect metaphor for what remained of our marriage.
Later at night, just as I had predicted, Anthony did not return to the hospital. Instead, a message from him arrived.
[Anthony: Daisy, I have a business trip to Japan and have to leave soon. I’ll ask the butler to pick you up at the hospital tomorrow. Please take care of yourself, and I promise I’ll bring you the best anniversary gift.]
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. ‘The best anniversary gift?’ I thought darkly.
Well, his gift that year was truly best of the best if compared with the past one, so best until shocked me to the core.
Shortly after, another notification lit up my phone—my request to delete my identity had been approved and I could use my new identity.
The timing could not have been better. While Anthony was jetting off to Japan with Julie to celebrate their twisted affair, I would be erasing myself from his life for good.
**
The next day, I wasted no time. My body still felt weak from the fever, but my resolve gave me strength. I carefully prepared for my departure, ensuring every detail was accounted for.
Instead of selling my belongings as I had before, I donated them to an auction whose proceeds would benefit disaster victims. It felt symbolic—turning the remnants of my life with Anthony into something meaningful for someone else.
Among my belongings, I prepared a special gift for Anthony. A sleek, elegant box containing the credit cards he had given me, the keys to the luxury car parked in the driveway, and the divorce papers I had signed.
Inside, I also placed a simple handwritten note, [I wish you happiness with your new woman.]
Then, I left the box in Anthony’s study, knowing he would find it when he returned.
However, what I did not anticipate was the relentless buzzing of my phone throughout the day.
Notification after notification lit up the screen, each one a cruel reminder that Julie had no intention of letting me grieve in peace.
She sent photo after photo—pictures of her and Anthony in intimate moments, flaunted shamelessly as if to twist the knife deeper into my heart.
Each image was more audacious than the last: Julie laughing in Anthony’s arms, a selfie of them sharing a private dinner, his hand resting on her growing belly.
[Julie: You should see how happy we are together. This is why you should just give up, Daisy.]
Another messages were also relentless, filled with taunts and provocations, but they did not faze me anymore.
Instead of letting her words get to me, I calmly pulled out my SIM card and tossed it into the trash can in my bedroom.
I no longer needed it.
I no longer needed anything that tied me to Daisy Paul.
I took one final look at the social media accounts I had painstakingly built over the years, then deleted them all with a few taps.
“Goodbye, Daisy Paul,” I whispered to the empty room, feeling a strange mix of sadness and relief.
I was no longer her. I was Valerie Keith, beginning a new chapter of my life, untethered from the past.
Chapter 9
Anthony and Julie spent a week in Japan, indulging in their fantasy of a perfect life together.
Julie was radiant, posing for pictures at picturesque tourist spots and hinting at their growing family on social media.
But when they returned, Julie’s excitement reached a fever pitch.
“This is it,” she said, clutching Anthony’s arm as they walked up to the front door. “Our new beginning.”
Anthony pushed the door open, stepping inside, but froze in place almost immediately.
The house felt… empty.
The furniture was still there, but it lacked warmth. The air itself seemed hollow, stripped of the small touches that had once made the Manor a home.
The scent of the candles I had always lit was gone. The photos of us on the walls were gone. Even the garden, where I had lovingly tended to my collection of succulents, was barren.
Anthony took a few steps forward, his gaze darting around in confusion. “What happened here?” he asked, his voice rising.
The butler appeared from the hall, bowing slightly. “Welcome home, Mr. Harris.”
Anthony turned to him sharply, gesturing around the room. “Why does everything look so different? Where’s Daisy? What happened?”
The butler’s face twitched with discomfort. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harris, but Mrs. Harris tidied everything up before she left. She said she needed to move out.”
“Move out?” Anthony repeated, disbelief etched into his voice. “Move out to where? Who told her to leave the house?”
The butler hesitated, his gaze flickering toward Julie briefly before he continued. “She said… she said it was you, sir.”
“Me?” Anthony’s tone grew darker, his brows knitting together. “When did I ever say that? We were talking about rescheduling our anniversary before I left for Japan, nothing more!”
Julie’s grip on his arm tightened as she spoke softly, “Honey, maybe she misunderstood. You know how women can overthink things. Maybe she’s just upset.”
Anthony shook his head, his mind racing. “This doesn’t make sense. Why would she pack everything, leave the house, and…” His voice trailed off, realization creeping into his features.
Julie, sensing the shift in his mood, quickly tried to redirect his focus. “Well, it’s not all bad,” she said sweetly. “This just makes things easier for us, doesn’t it? Now we can truly start fresh.”
But Anthony wasn’t listening anymore. “Where is she now?” he muttered, his voice strained.
The butler hesitated again, finally saying, “She didn’t say, sir. Mrs. Harris only mentioned that she was… moving on.”
Anthony’s heart raced as he grabbed his phone and dialed my number.
When the call went straight to voicemail, dread gripped him. The number that had always been within reach was now disconnected.
