He Called Me A Housewife While I Gave Him Everything Chapter 03

He Called Me A Housewife While I Gave Him Everything Chapter 03

The house was saturated with Damian, his scent, his presence, and saturated with lies.

I pulled open the closet and started packing. At the very bottom, my fingers hit a box.

I opened it. Inside lay a white shirt, stiff with dried blood the color of rust. Damian’s shirt.

Five years ago, that animal of a professor cornered me in his office. Damian burst in like a man possessed. He beat the professor so badly the man suffered multiple fractures. Damian took five stab wounds in return. He nearly died.

I had kept the shirt all this time. I kept it to remind myself that he once loved me enough to give his life.

Now all I felt was the bitter sting of the irony.

My phone rang. Damian.

His voice was electric, crackling with excitement. “Nora! The pitch killed. We just landed the biggest investment in the company’s history. I’m calling the specialist right now, your dad’s getting his surgery. We’re gonna save him.”

I listened to him riding that high, and I let out a hollow, bitter laugh.

Then I hung up without a word.

The phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor. The screen lit up. A live-stream notification pushed through.

The profile picture showed a woman’s silhouette. I’d recognize Chloe Sinclair’s face anywhere, even burned to ash.

I clicked.

The account was called “Chloe’s Secret Garden.” It documented five years of hidden love between her and a man whose face she never showed but whose presence saturated every post.

A photograph. A man’s wrist wearing a watch, my anniversary gift to my husband.

A video clip. A man’s low laugh, the same laugh I’d heard for five years.

Hundreds of thousands of followers swooned in the comments, calling them soulmates, calling their hidden romance divine.

So a man who spent nearly every hour by my side still managed to carve out enough time to nurture a love story celebrated by tens of thousands of strangers.

I was about to swipe away when Chloe’s voice spilled out of the live stream.

“I saw this news story recently about a college girl getting harassed by a professor. Made me think about what happened at our school back then.”

My fingers went cold.

“Honestly, I almost felt bad for that girl. Until I heard she was so broke she threw herself at the professor for, like, five hundred bucks.”

“He used her up, wrecked her insides, she can’t have kids now. But honestly? She got what she deserved. Women like that, messy, unclear boundaries, what other ending is there?”

She touched her stomach, her smile soft and vicious.

“If I have a son, I’ll teach him to protect himself. Don’t ever let a woman like that sink her claws into you. And if I have a daughter? She’d never stoop to something that pathetic.”

Something inside my skull detonated.

Damian told her. He told her about what happened to me, and he let her twist it into filth, let her broadcast it to hundreds of thousands of people, let her turn my deepest wound into her afternoon entertainment.

I was shaking so hard I could barely type. I poured every ounce of rage into a single comment. [　　You’re the one who’s the shameless home-wrecker.　　]

I was blocked and muted within a second.

Then the messages started. Phone calls. Texts. Strangers. Hundreds of them.

[Professor-chasing whore, and you’ve got the nerve to call someone else out?]

[You can’t have kids? That’s karma.]

[Just die already. The world’s better off without your pollution.]

The hate drowned me. I hurled my phone at the wall, watched it shatter, and slid to the floor. The sobs ripped out of me like something tearing.

Damian didn’t know.

That professor never succeeded. I went to that monster and begged him to sign the settlement agreement, so Damian could keep his degree, so his future wouldn’t be destroyed.

And the sick old bastard hurt me so badly during that encounter that the damage became permanent. I traded half my life for Damian’s spotless future.

And he turned it into pillow talk with another woman.

I pulled myself up using the wall, found the backup phone, and typed out a message to Damian.

“I know about you and Chloe. We’re done. Divorce.”

Less than three minutes after I hit send, the front door was kicked open.