Husband Chooses Secretary Over His Wife

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband finally agreed to take a trip with me. But during the journey, Blake abandoned me on a foreign street because his young secretary, Amaya, decided to go on a hunger strike.

I looked at the travel itinerary I had carefully planned over the past year and begged him not to leave, to spend this anniversary with me. He shook off my hand.

"Anniversaries come around every year, but if Amaya doesn't eat, it could be a big deal!"

"You think everyone is as resilient as you, like a workhorse that won't miss a meal."

Although impatience tinged his voice, he still brushed a kiss on my forehead when he saw my tear-streaked face.

"Wait for me. I'll be back once I calm Amaya down."

But as I watched him board his private jet without a backward glance, I knew he wasn’t returning. I glanced at my hands, swollen from pregnancy, and with a bitter smile, tucked the prenatal check-up report back into my backpack. I couldn’t continue this oppressive marriage any longer.

***

Seeing the two of them so close in the hospital room, I suppressed the fury rising inside me. I pushed the door open and stood at the foot of the bed.

Seeing the look on my face, Blake instinctively moved to block my view of Amaya. Amaya noticed I had something to say and sent Blake to fetch some coffee. As I watched him leave, glancing back at her every few steps, a wave of bitterness swept over me. When I was sick, he wouldn't even get me a glass of water, yet he willingly did it for Amaya.

A soft laugh from the bed drew my attention. I stared intently at Amaya. "You should know Blake has a family."

Amaya met my gaze without flinching, ambition glimmering in eyes eerily similar to mine. "Of course I know. Everyone says I look like a younger version of you. But I'm younger and here to take your place."

Her words ignited a fire within me, and I grabbed her hair. "Who do you think you are? What right do you have to replace me?!"

Amaya yelped as I tugged at her hair, but remained unfazed. Just as I was about to slap her, she collapsed, shrieking and clutching her cheek as if I had already struck her.

Before I could even process what happened, a kettle of boiling water was hurled at me, scalding my entire arm. The burning pain made me scream, and I looked at Blake in disbelief.

He was momentarily flustered by my cries but was quickly drawn to Amaya's act of weakness. He cradled her, soothing the few splashes that had reddened her skin with cool breaths.

Turning to where I sat on the floor, he yelled, “You ungrateful woman! Visiting Amaya was already more than you deserved, who gave you the nerve to hit her?”

He continued to comfort Amaya, not sparing me a glance. "Apologize to Amaya!"

"Sorry..." The apology slipped from my mouth, leaving Blake momentarily stunned. He frowned at my miserable state, then turned away impatiently.

"Go get yourself bandaged, don't let it scar."

I got up awkwardly, my sandals causing me to limp as the scalding water had burned my feet. I hobbled out of the hospital room, leaving a trail of broken blisters and bloody footprints.

The physical pain was intense, but it didn't compare to the emotional anguish he inflicted on me. It wasn't until the nurse dressed my wounds that the stinging pain brought me back to reality.

Halfway through the bandaging, all the nurses were suddenly called away. I overheard them mention that someone from the VIP ward had been burned and needed immediate attention. I let out a bitter laugh, sure Blake had once again caused a fuss over Amaya.

With my wound half-treated, I had to finish dressing it myself using the method the nurse had shown me. Blood seeped through the fresh bandages, and I felt helpless.

Just as I returned home, feverish and on the brink of collapse, the phone rang. I answered it reluctantly.

"Why are you calling me?" My voice cracked with pain and tears.

On the other end, Blake's tone softened when he heard my distressed voice. "Honey, Amaya wants your special pulled pork and root vegetable stew. Make some and bring it over to apologize."

His words left me cold. That stew was my specialty, a dish I'd brought to his office every Wednesday without fail for seven years, regardless of the weather. And now, he wanted me to give my heartfelt gesture to Amaya?

My silence made Blake impatient, his voice tinged with anger. "Is making stew that hard? You hurt Amaya, and her wanting your stew is a step towards reconciliation. Don’t be ungrateful."

"If you don't deliver it within the hour, there's nothing left between us."

The call ended, leaving me in silence.