I Left My CEO Husband, and He Went Mad

Everyone says Scott Kennedy, the young heir to one of California’s most influential families, married a fool.

Unfortunately, I’m the so-called fool they can’t stop talking about.

I never truly understood the meaning of "first love" until someone said, "Scott’s first love is the love of his life. And you? You’re just the fool he was forced to marry."

I couldn’t hold back. I broke down, bawling my eyes out and throwing myself onto the floor like a tantrum-throwing child.

Because, really, what else could I do?

I am a fool—or at least that’s all anyone seems to think. But even after all that, he still brought her back.

"You’re so pure and kind-hearted," he said, almost pleading as if he were asking for a favor. "Please, let her stay. Okay?"

Everyone calls me a fool, but even a fool like me knows one simple truth—my husband is supposed to belong to me.

If Scott starts falling for someone else, then… I don’t want him anymore.

...

During dinner, Scott Kennedy kept serving plate after plate to his first love, Jessica Smith.

For the past month, this had become our routine—him lavishing attention on her while I remained on the sidelines. Despite witnessing it repeatedly, I couldn’t stop myself from admiring her. Jessica was breathtaking—sparkling eyes, flawless teeth, and jet-black hair that flowed like a waterfall.

Every smile, every slight frown, seemed to captivate everyone around her. As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, Jessica noticed me staring.

She smiled warmly, her voice as light as a breeze. "Nadia, why aren’t you eating?"

Then Jessica looked at Scot, who was sitting beside me, and said, "Don’t worry about me, Scott. I’ll get something if I need it. You should take good care of Nadia. What if she doesn’t eat enough?"

Scott glanced over at Jessica and said, "It's fine, Jessica. She can’t handle spicy food. She’ll just stick to her small bowl."

Then he turned back to me, the same indulgent look on his face, and ruffled my hair like I was a child. "Nadia, is something wrong? Don’t you like today’s dishes?" Scott asked gently, his voice tinged with concern. "If you don’t eat well now, there won’t be any desserts tonight, okay?"

The tone he used—soft and coaxing, as though speaking to a child—stung more than it should have. I kept my gaze fixed on the small bowl of food in front of me, the sadness in my chest growing heavier with each passing second.

There was a time when I didn’t mind the way Scott spoke to me. Back then, I found his care and attention comforting, even sweet. But now? Now it grated on me.

I didn’t want to be treated like a child anymore.

Ever since Jessica moved into this house, everything seemed to revolve around her, including the meals. The table was always filled with her favorite spicy foods that overwhelmed my palate.

I had grown up eating light, mild foods, and my stomach couldn’t handle anything too intense. Although we all sat at the same table from that day on, my meals were separate from theirs.

The sight of my small, plain bowl next to their vibrant, aromatic dishes only deepened the divide I felt between me and the rest of the household. It was as if the table itself mirrored my place in their world—apart, isolated, an afterthought.

Jessica raised an eyebrow, smiling playfully. "Auntie, you really don’t have to go all out for me. Nadia’s not used to this kind of food." She turned to Scott’s mom, Martha, and added, "Let’s keep it simple for Nadia. I like mild dishes too, so it’s no trouble."

Martha shot me a glance before looking back at Jessica. "You’re too kind, Jessica. What does a fool like her know, anyway?"

Then, with a sigh, Martha’s tone softened further. "I’ve always liked you, my dear. Seeing you with Scott makes me so happy." She let out a small laugh, dripping with thinly veiled affection. "I still don’t know what his grandfather was thinking, making Scott marry her…"

Scott slammed his utensils on the table with a loud clang, startling everyone.

"Mom," he addressed her sternly, his voice cutting through the room. "I’ve told you—stop calling her a fool. She’s my wife."

He then turned his attention to me, his gaze gentler. "And stop making vague comments. Nadia and I are married. That’s the end of it."

I bit down on my lip, fighting back tears. Without a word, I pushed back my chair and moved to the sofa, not wanting to stay at the table any longer. Martha’s dislike for me wasn’t new. I’d always known she didn’t approve of me.

But honestly, it wasn’t just her. Everyone around Scott said the same thing—that he married a fool. A genius and a fool. That’s how they saw us—a mismatched pair in every way.

And unfortunately, I’m the fool.

There was a time when Martha hid her disdain, at least in public. After all, my marriage to Scott was arranged by his grandfather, Donald Kennedy.