“From this moment on, you’re my wife. In this life and the next, we’ll never be apart. Don’t even think about making me let go of your hand.”
But now?
Now, he had forgotten every single word of that promise.
And he didn’t even bother fighting me on it.
Instead, he just said, “Fine. But don’t worry, Elise. No one can replace you. No matter what, my wife's position will always be yours.”
Once upon a time, I used to feel proud when people called me Mrs. Westbrook. It made me feel secure, loved, and like I belonged somewhere.
Now?
Now, it felt like a cruel joke.
Ever since Hayes started making headlines with one woman after another, the whispers around me never stopped.
Some people pitied me.
Others… they mocked me.
“Mr. Westbrook’s going through women like a revolving door. Do you really think you’ll still be his wife for much longer? If I were you, I’d get pregnant while I still had the chance—might help you cash in when he finally divorces you.”
“Five years, and she hasn’t had a baby yet? Maybe she can’t have kids. No wonder she can’t keep him.”
What they didn’t know—what no one knew—was that I had been pregnant.
In our first year of marriage, I carried our child.
But then, there was that night.