Five years of love, two years of marriage… and Isabella Reed thought she had it all—until the night she walked in on her billionaire husband, Ethan Walker, tenderly holding another woman. Pregnant and heartbroken, Isabella discovers Ethan’s “innocent” childhood sweetheart Sophia Miller has always been the true owner of his heart. To Ethan, Isabella was nothing more than a convenient wife and a womb for the Walker heir. But Isabella has had enough. She files for divorce, vanishes from his life, and leaves behind a secret that will shatter his world. Months later, Ethan realizes too late what he’s lost. He’s desperate to win her back… but Isabella has returned stronger, colder, and utterly out of his reach. "You already buried our love, Ethan. Why would I ever come back to dig up the corpse?"
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01
Rain lashed like whips, driven by a howling wind that soaked me to the bone. I stumbled towards home, every step a battle against the storm.
Just two hours ago, kidnappers had played me for a fool. They’d taken my shoes and dumped me on the highway – I’d nearly been roadkill. Four months pregnant, I’d pushed through the terror, driven by sheer will to protect the life inside me. I finally made it home, only to walk straight into a deeper betrayal.
The mansion was eerily silent.
The master bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Through the crack drifted the cloying scent of jasmine, mixed with the low murmur of a man’s voice – a sound that pierced my ears like needles. That perfume… I knew it instantly. His assistant, Sophia Miller.
Ethan Walker was massaging Sophia’s back, his hands slick with oil. His movements were practiced, effortlessly effective. Sophia whimpered like a kitten, a sound that curdled my blood.
“Oh god, yes... right there…”
The sight stabbed into my heart like an ice pick.
My calves throbbed dully, swollen from the long walk back. Pregnancy leg cramps had become my nightly torment, jolting me awake in pain. Just last night, I’d begged him for a massage.
But he hadn’t even looked up from his phone. “Stop it, Isabella. I’ve got an online meeting. Deal with it yourself.”
Deal with it myself. Yet here his fingers were, gliding over another woman’s skin.
A tidal wave of hurt crashed over me. I gripped the doorframe, knuckles white.
He was the one who pursued me in college. In those early days, I’d even teased him into washing my feet. I’d splashed him, ruining an obscenely expensive suit. He hadn’t gotten angry. He’d just tapped my nose, calling me his “little mischief-maker.”
Now, standing drenched and freezing in my own home while the storm raged outside, that memory felt like ash.
“You’re a lifesaver, Ethan,” Sophia sighed. “Haven’t slept this well in ages.”
“Ethan… she’s still not back. You don’t think she’s throwing a fit because she found out I’m staying?” Sophia’s voice was honeyed.
“Sophia, we’re not at the office anymore. Call me Ethan. Like you used to.” His voice was warm, intimate.
“Ethan,” she purred. “I just didn’t want Isabella getting the wrong idea. Dad insisted I intern at Walker Holdings, but I didn’t want anyone thinking I got special treatment. That’s why Ethan kept it quiet.” She paused. “Honestly, I hate causing trouble.”
Ethan’s hands stilled for a second. A frown creased his brow, as if the mere mention of me was distasteful. “Forget about her. She can stay out all night for all I care.” His tone shifted, becoming low, intense. “It’s you I’m worried about. That ex-boyfriend chasing you from London all the way here… harassing you. That’s when you finally remember your Ethan?”
“Oh, Ethan, that was nothing!” Sophia cooed, twisting to look up at him. “Just a silly fling. He could never hold a candle to you. Not a single finger.” She nestled against his chest.
Every word was a knife. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood.
The day he brought her to the office… Strutting in head-to-toe designer labels, makeup flawless, chin lifted like a princess surveying her domain. He’d introduced her as the “new secretary,” completely green, needing my guidance. And like a fool, I’d believed him.
That client dinner… Sophia had offended a major account. Ethan wouldn’t let her drink. “Sophia’s allergic,” he’d declared, then turned to me. “You take it, Isabella. You can handle it. Sophia’s fresh out of college, pure as snow. She doesn’t do the drinking thing.”
I’d swallowed my pride and downed ten shots of baijiu. I could barely stand. Later, Sophia wrinkled her nose at my reek of alcohol. Ethan ordered an assistant to drive me home alone. As the cars passed, I saw Sophia asleep in the passenger seat of his car, looking like an untroubled angel. Me? I was retching by the roadside, a pathetic, stinking mess.
No green secretary. They’d grown up together. Childhood friends. He’d always protected her like a little sister.
So what was I?
When he shielded Sophia, when he forced the drinks on me… did it cross his mind for even a second that I was pregnant? Carrying his child?
Not for one damn second.
I’d dragged myself home through hell, desperate for answers.
Now? It didn’t matter anymore.
Numbly, I turned to leave. Footsteps sounded behind me.
Ethan stood in the doorway.
“Isabella?” Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by unease. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.” My voice was flat.
“Good. Saves explanations.” He brushed past the awkwardness, all business. “Sophia’s staying for a few days. Go make up the guest room.” He said it like it was the most natural request in the world.
I didn’t respond.
His gaze swept over me, taking in my soaked clothes, hair plastered to my skull, water dripping onto the marble floor. His frown deepened. “What the hell happened to you? Look at the state of you!” Disgust laced his words. “You’re not alone anymore, Isabella. There’s a child. My child. Walker bloodline. My mother is counting on this baby – don’t add to her worries!” He gestured vaguely towards the bedroom. “Look at Sophia. She’s four years younger than you. She’d never let herself get into such a state.”
The barrage of criticism left no room for reply. Everything I did was wrong. Once, I’d patiently tempered his impatience, helped him navigate people. Now, I couldn’t muster the energy to explain.
“You’re right,” I whispered, my voice trembling but clear. I lifted my head, meeting the eyes of the man I’d loved for five years, been married to for two. “It is my problem.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll go prepare the room.”
Before he could react, before he could reach out or say whatever half-formed thing hovered on his lips, I turned and walked away. Sophia’s soft call of “Ethan?” drifted from the room behind him.
I didn’t look back.
02
I woke the next day in the guest room. My mother-in-law had insisted on separate rooms months ago, sneering that my nighttime discomfort disturbed her precious son’s sleep. Out of misplaced concern for him, I’d agreed. Now, I was profoundly grateful for that distance.
After washing up, I walked into the living room. Sophia Miller was perched on the arm of Ethan’s chair, a piece of fruit held teasingly between her lips as she leaned towards him. With a fond chuckle, he bent forward and took it directly from her mouth, their lips brushing in the process. The thick, cloying intimacy froze the moment I entered.
My gaze landed on the kitchen island. The pristine white strawberries I’d specifically bought—my one reliable pregnancy craving that made breakfast possible—lay ravaged. Sophia had taken a single, tiny bite out of the sweet tip of each one before discarding them like garbage.
Feeling my stare, Sophia turned, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "Oh, Isabella! My apologies! I thought Ethan bought them for me." She gave a little sigh. "I’ve always adored strawberries. When they’re in season, Ethan used to air-freight me crates of them. This morning, they tasted so tart, I thought he’d gotten lazy." Her eyes flickered with undisguised triumph. "Back then, I’d eat the sweet tips and he’d finish the ends for me. You don’t mind, do you?"
Her words were a physical blow, dredging up a memory: college days, my love for the famous soup dumplings from the east side of town. Ethan would race across the city before his 8 AM class to bring them to me. I’d thought it was grand romance. Now I saw it for what it was: crumbs. Cheap gestures.
My silence stretched. Ethan’s expression darkened, assuming I was being difficult. "Isabella," he snapped. "Apologize to Sophia."
Behind him, Sophia flashed me a victorious smirk. See? He always chooses me. You’re nothing.
I expected tears, rage – remnants of the love I’d once felt. Instead, a chilling numbness settled over me. "Apologize for what?" My voice was eerily calm. "She simply stated facts." I turned and walked out before they could react.
I took a cab to the police station. The three young men who’d kidnapped me – opportunistic thieves who took my jewelry and cash – needed to be reported. Fear churned in my gut; handling this alone felt daunting. I remembered another time, back in college, when I’d faced harassment at my part-time job. Ethan had mobilized his security, hunted the man down, and put him in the hospital. He’d held me then, vowing fiercely, "Don’t be scared. If anyone ever hurts you again, I’ll cross the world to protect you." That promise had cemented my devotion, my foolish surrender of my whole heart. Now, that heart was just… broken.
Leaving the station with the case file receipt, a strange sense of relief washed over me. Taking that first step alone hadn’t been impossible after all.
The house was tomb-silent when I returned. Passing through the living room, I spotted Ethan’s old laptop on the sofa table. An ancient model he guarded fiercely, forbidding anyone – even me – from touching it. Respecting his privacy, I never had. Until now.
I opened it. The lock screen wallpaper was a picture of him and Sophia, younger, carefree. The browser was still open. A single click, and a webpage loaded. What I saw plunged me into an icy abyss.
It was a secret social media account. No pictures, just raw text posts.
"You left so suddenly. My words must have cut too deep. If I could go back... I'd stop myself."
"Regret eats at me. I never wanted to be just your brother."
"Met a girl today. Her smile... it reminded me of you." The date was the exact day I met Ethan Walker.
"Went to that London exhibit you always talked about. Shame you weren't beside me."
"The island breeze is warm, just like you said. No wonder you loved it here."
"If I could see you again... I'd do anything."
The cloying confessions, the yearning for Sophia after he'd rejected her, only realizing what he'd lost when she found someone else… they turned my stomach. I was nothing. A stand-in. A distraction.
An icy numbness spread from my feet, seizing my heart in a vise-like grip. A bleak, humorless laugh escaped me. No wonder Sophia was so confident. Every place Ethan had taken me, every moment I thought was ours… was just him reliving her memories. My happiness had been built on his longing for another woman. This wasn't some harmless childhood bond. It was years of hidden, desperate love.
My nails dug deep into my palms, the pain a faint echo of the devastation inside. I remembered defying my parents, sneaking out with just my documents to marry him in a strange city, ready to build a life, bear his children. And all that time, he was romanticizing his lost chance with Sophia. His mother sneered that I’d married beneath him, so I learned to drink at business dinners to prove my worth, forced myself to fit into the cold world of the Walkers. All for nothing. I’d never once touched Ethan Walker’s heart.
All those years of love and sacrifice.
Utterly wasted.