The Soccer Star’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 04

The Soccer Star’s Forgotten Wife Chapter 04

The next afternoon, Adrian came home.

Not in a good mood.

I knew that before he even walked through the front door.

The airport driver had apparently gotten lost.

His preferred protein shake hadn’t been available on the flight.

And the team had lost their game in Chicago.

Normally, I would’ve heard every detail within five minutes of him getting home.

Today, I was sitting in my office reviewing a sponsorship proposal for a sports media company.

A company that had offered me a consulting position.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

For years, I’d been doing this work for free.

Now strangers wanted to pay me for it.

The front door slammed downstairs.

A few seconds later, I heard Ryan’s excited voice.

“Dad!”

Then Adrian.

“Hey, buddy.”

The familiar sound should’ve comforted me.

Instead, I kept reading.

A minute later, footsteps approached my office.

Adrian appeared in the doorway.

His eyes immediately landed on the laptop.

“What’s this?”

“Work.”

He frowned.

“You have work?”

I looked up.

The question irritated me more than it should have.

“What exactly do you think I do all day?”

His expression hardened.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Silence.

Adrian leaned against the doorframe.

For the first time in years, he actually looked at me.

Not through me.

At me.

“You’ve been acting strange.”

I almost laughed.

Strange.

Not hurt.

Not exhausted.

Not humiliated.

Strange.

“I’ve been acting like a person.”

His jaw tightened.

“Claire.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“That tone.”

“What tone?”

“The one you use when you think I’m being unreasonable.”

His expression darkened.

“We’re not doing this.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Exactly like always.

The conversation ended the moment it became uncomfortable for him.

An hour later, the doorbell rang.

I wasn’t expecting anyone.

Neither was Adrian.

Ryan raced to the door before either of us could stop him.

A second later, his excited scream echoed through the house.

“OLIVIA!”

My stomach dropped.

I stepped into the hallway.

And there she was.

Olivia Hart.

Standing inside my home.

Smiling.

Beautiful.

Effortlessly polished.

Her long dark hair fell over her shoulders.

Designer sunglasses rested on top of her head.

She looked like she belonged on a movie poster.

I looked down at myself.

Sweater.

Jeans.

Hair pulled back.

No makeup.

The comparison was almost embarrassing.

Ryan launched himself into her arms.

Olivia laughed.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

She hugged him like she’d done it a hundred times before.

That bothered me.

Because maybe she had.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Ryan asked.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Then she looked up.

And finally acknowledged me.

“Oh.”

A soft smile appeared.

“Claire.”

The way she said my name felt strange.

Like she was meeting an employee.

Not a wife.

Not the woman whose husband she was publicly attached to every day.

Just Claire.

Adrian appeared behind me.

For the first time all week, he actually smiled.

A genuine smile.

“Olivia.”

My chest tightened.

I hated that I noticed.

I hated that I cared.

But I did.

Because I couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked that happy to see me.

Olivia handed him a gift bag.

“I brought something for your parents.”

“Thanks.”

Their fingers brushed.

Tiny.

Meaningless.

Yet somehow intimate.

The kind of familiarity that comes from history.

Ryan grabbed Olivia’s hand.

“Come see my room!”

She laughed.

“Lead the way.”

And just like that, they disappeared upstairs together.

Leaving me standing there.

Adrian moved toward the kitchen.

I followed.

The silence lasted exactly ten seconds.

Then I said:

“How often does she visit?”

Adrian stopped.

“What?”

“Ryan seems very comfortable with her.”

His expression immediately cooled.

“What’s your point?”

“No point.”

I folded my arms.

“I’m asking.”

“You’re jealous.”

I stared at him.

Of all the things he could’ve said.

That was somehow the worst.

Because it implied I was competing with her.

That this was some petty female insecurity.

Instead of a wife watching another woman walk through her front door like she belonged there.

“I’m your wife.”

“Exactly.”

His answer came instantly.

Like that should’ve settled everything.

Like having the title was enough.

As though titles mattered more than actions.

Before I could respond, Ryan’s voice echoed from upstairs.

“Dad!”

A few moments later, Ryan came running down the stairs.

Olivia followed.

Smiling.

Ryan looked directly at Adrian.

“Can Olivia come to Career Day?”

The room went quiet.

I already knew the answer.

Still.

Some stupid part of me hoped.

Adrian glanced toward me.

Then toward Olivia.

Then shrugged.

“If her schedule allows it.”

My heart sank.

Ryan cheered.

Olivia looked surprised.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t.”

Adrian smiled.

“Ryan wants you there.”

Ryan immediately wrapped his arms around Olivia.

“I do!”

Nobody looked at me.

Not one person.

As if my opinion didn’t matter.

As if I wasn’t his mother.

As if I wasn’t standing right there.

The humiliation burned through me.

Slowly.

Quietly.

The way deep wounds always do.

That evening, Olivia stayed for dinner.

Of course she did.

I cooked because nobody else offered.

Pasta.

Roasted vegetables.

Salad.

The same meal Ryan usually complained about.

Tonight he couldn’t stop talking.

Because Olivia was sitting at the table.

Every joke she made was hilarious.

Every story was fascinating.

Every sentence deserved his full attention.

Meanwhile, I may as well have been invisible.

Then Olivia smiled at me.

“Claire, Adrian told me you’re a huge fan of my show.”

My fork froze.

Across the table, Adrian didn’t react.

I looked at him.

He wasn’t looking at me.

Of course he wasn’t.

Because he didn’t remember.

The only reason he’d known I watched her show was because I’d told him.

Weeks ago.

During one of the rare moments I’d tried to start a conversation.

A conversation he’d barely listened to.

And somehow Olivia knew about it.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

“That’s right,” Olivia continued.

“I was so touched when Adrian mentioned it.”

My stomach turned.

Mentioned it.

He remembered enough to tell Olivia.

But not enough to answer me when I’d been talking.

I smiled politely.

“Congratulations on the ratings.”

“Oh.” Olivia laughed modestly.

“I’ve been lucky.”

No.

You haven’t.

You inherited opportunities someone else built.

The thought surprised me.

Because it was true.

I remembered recommending her name to a sponsor two years ago.

I remembered introducing her manager to one of Adrian’s contacts.

I remembered helping fix a minor scandal before it reached the press.

Olivia never knew.

Neither did Adrian.

Because I’d handled everything quietly.

The way I always did.

The way women like me always did.

Then Olivia said something that made the entire table go silent.

“You know, people online keep saying Claire and I look alike.”

Ryan immediately shook his head.

“No way.”

I looked at him.

My son continued eating.

Completely unaware.

“Olivia’s prettier.”

The room froze.

Adrian looked up sharply.

Even Olivia looked uncomfortable.

Ryan kept talking.

Because children tell the truth they’ve learned.

“She dresses better too.”

The silence became unbearable.

My heart felt strangely calm.

Not broken.

Not angry.

Just tired.

Very, very tired.

Finally, Adrian cleared his throat.

“Ryan.”

“What?”

“That’s enough.”

But the damage was already done.

Because nobody had taught Ryan to respect me.

Nobody had shown him that his mother deserved appreciation.

Not even his father.

Especially not his father.

I put down my fork.

“I’m finished.”

Adrian frowned.

“You barely ate.”

“I’m not hungry.”

I stood.

Collected my plate.

And walked toward the kitchen.

Behind me, dinner continued.

Conversations resumed.

Laughter returned.

As though nothing had happened.

As though I hadn’t just watched my own family choose someone else over me.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, I sat alone in my office.

The consulting contract remained open on my laptop.

I stared at the salary offer.

Then at the folder beside me.

The folder containing divorce papers.

For a long time, I looked between them.

A future.

And an ending.

Maybe they were the same thing.

Slowly, I reached for a pen.

And signed my name.