He Tricked Me With Fake Papers, So I Sued for a Million Chapter 01

He Tricked Me With Fake Papers, So I Sued for a Million Chapter 01

By the fifth year of sharing my husband with his mistress, he was still giving me only one day a year. Every other day belonged to her.

I stared at his back for a long time before I finally spoke.

“Could you stop seeing her for a while and focus on us—on the life we built together?”

Every crisis at home, every hospital stay for his mother, and every last responsibility had fallen to me alone.

He had never once asked how I was doing. All of his attention went to Vanessa.

After a long silence, he rubbed his brow, exhaustion and disgust thick in his voice.

“Home is nothing but the mortgage, bills, and pressure so heavy I can barely breathe. It doesn’t feel anything like it used to.”

“Vanessa is different. She’s gentle and considerate, and she understands how hard I work. Is it so wrong to want someone who can make me happy for a little while?”

I laughed bitterly to myself. Of course they seemed so compatible. Their relationship had never been tested by bills, chores, or the weight of everyday life.

Fine. I would let him go.

I had my own life to live, and I wasn’t going to waste it waiting for him to change.

***

He was still standing in the entryway, with no intention of staying.

I forced down the ache in my chest and swallowed my pride. “For my sake, could you come home and really try to make this work?”

If he had said yes, I would have forgiven everything.

But Adrian Mercer stood half-turned toward the door, impatience written all over his face.

“Vanessa and I can’t just walk away from each other anymore. Forcing us apart won’t do anyone any good.”

He opened the door, then paused. “And stop acting like you’re the only one suffering. You knew when you married me that I wasn’t the kind of man who’d spend his life tied down by domestic responsibilities.”

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

I stood there, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

Yet he was the one who had swept into my life, cared for me in every possible way, and taken every burden off my shoulders.

When had the home we built become the place he was so desperate to escape?

A notification pulled me out of my thoughts. Vanessa had sent me a message.

In the photo, she sat in the passenger seat with her fingers laced through Adrian’s.

Vanessa: [Five years, and you still can’t keep him for even one day.]

Vanessa: [Still, I should thank you for being so useless. We’re taking a road trip to the coast.]

I sank onto the couch and set my phone facedown.

The date on the calendar had been circled again and again. Suddenly, I started laughing.

But as I laughed, tears slipped down my cheeks.

Today was our wedding anniversary—the one day every year he came home.

I had been up since four that morning, cooking all his favorite dishes and putting on the dress he had given me, my heart full of hope.

All I wanted was for him to have a change of heart and start caring about our life together.

But he had left to go to the coast with Vanessa.

My phone rang again. This time, it was a video call from Mom.

I sniffed, then answered.

Mom leaned toward the screen and looked around the empty living room. “Adrian didn’t come home? He went to see that homewrecker again?”

I said nothing, which was answer enough.

After a few seconds of silence, she sighed.

“Men are all the same. You’ve been married for five years, so don’t make a fuss. Stay and keep your marriage together. Sooner or later, he’ll see how good you’ve been to him.”

She paused. “The Dawsons’ daughter next door got divorced last year, and people around town are still gossiping about her.”

In the corner of the screen, Dad sat silently on a stool, taking slow pulls from his pipe.

I was about to tell them I couldn’t take it anymore, but I swallowed the words.

After the call ended, I changed out of the dress and dumped all the food I had made into the trash.

Five years of humiliating myself, waiting for him, and suffering through this twisted triangle ended here.

I was done with this so-called home, too.