Everyone in London knows that Patrick McGrath adores his wife as if she were his entire world.
But secretly, he keeps an 18-year-old girl around, claiming she resembles me years ago. He insists he's just trying to preserve the essence of true love.
He even issued a strict order that no one should bring up anything that might upset me.
One day, overjoyed with news of my pregnancy, I rushed to his office to share it. But there she was—the young girl who bore a striking resemblance to me, sitting on his lap, feeding him wine mouth-to-mouth.
She looked at Patrick and asked, "Am I just her replacement?"
But he pulled her close and replied, "How could she ever compare to you?"
That same day, I booked an appointment for an abortion and called my aunt, who lived abroad.
"Aunt, I’ve made my decision. I’m immigrating to New Zealand."
——
On the other end, my aunt was momentarily stunned before exclaiming happily, "Lora Fletcher, you’ve finally decided! I’ll ask your uncle to handle the paperwork. It’ll take about ten days—wait for my update!"
After hanging up, I went straight home.
When I arrived, Patrick was already sitting in the living room, a rare look of nervousness in his eyes.
"You’re home late. Where have you been?"
I held up the bag in my hand and replied calmly, "Nothing much. Just some mild stomach discomfort. I went to the hospital for a check-up and picked up some Western medicine."
My health had always been poor, and getting pregnant was a challenge. After the abortion, the doctor had specifically advised me to take Western medicine for recovery.
Seeing that I appeared fine, Patrick finally got to the point. "Did you stop by the company for something today? Why did you leave so quickly after arriving?"
I assumed someone had reported seeing me outside his office. He probably wasn’t sure if I’d witnessed what happened.
In truth, the moment I saw them was brief. His assistant had only fed him a sip of wine and quickly got off his lap.
"I was just passing by your company," I said lightly. "I saw you busy with the assistant, so I didn’t stay long."
He visibly relaxed at my words, but my heart ached.
We had been married for seven years and were admired as a model couple by everyone around us. I had always thought we’d love each other for life, but his heart had changed so quickly.
"She was just reporting to me!" Patrick explained, stepping closer. "You know how young she is—she doesn’t know proper boundaries, so she stood a bit too close."
He gently placed his hand on my shoulder and continued in a soft voice.
“Wife, it’s been ages since we visited our alma mater. I happen to have some free time tomorrow—why don’t we go back and relive those memories from the past?”
He seemed more at ease as he brought up our alma mater, his mood noticeably lighter.
We were a couple who transitioned from school uniforms to wedding attire, and visiting our alma mater on our wedding anniversary had become a tradition. But this year, Patrick claimed work at the company was too hectic, so we didn’t go.
Thinking back now, he was probably preoccupied with his 18-year-old assistant.
I sighed softly and shook my head. “Let’s talk about it another time. The doctor prescribed me ten days of Western medicine, and I must boil it daily.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, reaching out to gently stroke my long hair.
I turned my head slightly, avoiding his touch without making it obvious. His hand froze mid-motion.
“Lora, is something bothering you? Why do I feel like you’re unhappy? Is it because Christy Barrett seemed too close to me while reporting her work earlier today?”
“She’s just a kid, barely 18. Surely you wouldn’t take it to heart, right?”
My chest tightened at his words. Once, I too had been an 18-year-old girl.
When I looked up again, my eyes were steady and calm. “No, I didn’t take it to heart.”
His expression softened as he murmured gently.
