Private pictures of my swimming champion husband, Alden Crestwell and his stepsister, Celine Rathmore, were sent to my phone for the ninety-sixth time.
The first time was on the tenth anniversary of my relationship with Alden. In the video, Celine’s blouse was half undone and Alden’s head was buried in her chest.
The second time was at our engagement party. After the ceremony, he left in a hurry. Ten minutes later, I received a photo of him taking a bath in Celine’s bathroom.
***
The ninety-sixth time happened at our wedding.
I was waiting for him to say his vows. Instead, Alden looked at me with an apologetic expression and threw the ring at me.
A moment later, a message from Celine popped up on my phone.
In the picture, she and Alden were kissing passionately among a bed of roses, their hands already lost in each other's clothes.
I tossed the bouquet and wedding ring into the trash, wiped my tears and began ushering the guests out.
The crowd's sympathetic looks stung more than anything. After the party, I took off my wedding dress and clutched the stack of photos before jotting down another note in my journal.
Alden had no idea I had already recorded ninety-seven nasty things about him. Once I reached a hundred, I would leave for good.
After ten years together, he had proposed to me a hundred times. And I had given him a hundred chances.
So why was he the one crying and begging for forgiveness now that I had finally said yes to a marriage proposal and become Mrs. Billionaire?
As I watched Alden walk away without a second glance, I quietly wiped my tears and sent a message.
[I agree.]
The reply came almost instantly.
Looking around at the wreckage of our wedding, I turned and left.
That night, Alden did not return home until ten.
He held me gently, apologized again and again and coaxed me into bed.
My body gave in. At some point, my legs found their way to his waist.
He looked at me tenderly, kissing me deeper and deeper…
Until his phone rang.
"Alden, you said you’d be with me tonight. My chest hurts again."
Hearing this, Alden froze, then looked at me with guilt written all over his face. In a panic, he threw on his clothes and rushed out.
"Celine isn’t feeling so well right now. I need to check on her."
I watched him leave with a calm expression before closing my eyes.
Celine Rathmore was his stepsister. She moved here two years ago for school and ever since then, she had come between me and Alden.
I knew from the start that she had feelings for him.
At first, Alden never took it seriously.
However, she used her heart condition as an excuse to call him away at night, again and again. In two years, he had only spent the night at home a handful of times.
She claimed her roommates bullied her and moved into our home on the night of our engagement, no less.
That very night, she slept right between me and Alden.
In the beginning, Alden treated her coldly. But over time, he got used to taking care of Celine.
Eventually, her place in his heart far surpassed mine.
Whether it was our engagement party, our anniversaries, or even our wedding, every time Celine called, Alden would leave me without hesitation.
Even now, when I was three months pregnant, neither the baby nor I could compare to Celine.
After Alden left again, that familiar number sent me more photos.
The roses that once covered the bed were crushed. Alden and Celine’s eyes were glazed over, their lips locked, tongues tangled.
I swiped through the photos without emotion and accidentally tapped open the news.
Alden had just won a championship and was trending everywhere. But despite his rising popularity, he openly posted photos of himself with Celine.
Strangely, I did not feel the anger I used to. Instead, I felt calm. So calm, it scared me.
This was the ninety-seventh time. I noted it down in my diary.
I did not remember exactly when I stopped feeling hurt. The anger just faded, replaced by numbness.
However, I had already made up my mind. The diary had a hundred pages, so when I reached the last one, I would leave for good.
Alden and I had been together for ten years. Every year, he proposed to me ten times. On the hundredth time, I told him I was pregnant and finally agreed to marry him.
He was overjoyed, promising me that he would never put Celine before me or our child again.
I did not fully believe him, but I still held on to a shred of hope.
Now I realized that I was being naive.
Alden did not come home that night. I did not sleep either.
The next morning, he returned with my favorite breakfast, but the red marks on his neck were still fresh.
He hugged me gently and the scent of his shower gel hit me like a wave, making me nauseous.
He rubbed my back affectionately and said, "This baby is really troublesome."
I pulled away from him slightly as pain flared in my stomach.
Later, after everything had settled, Alden returned to the bedroom, smiling as he stared at his phone.
I knew he was talking to Celine.
I looked away and began to pack my things, but he came over and lifted me back onto the bed.
"Elara, I promise I’ll give you the perfect wedding. Don’t be upset. Celine’s health isn’t great. I have to take care of her."
An overwhelming emptiness filled my chest. I quietly removed the hand he had slipped under the blanket.
"My stomach feels off."
He paused for a second, breathing heavily, then bent down and kissed my belly.
That night, Alden disappeared again.
And once again, pictures came to my phone.
A pale body straddled Alden’s in the pool, the two of them floating together in the water.
I saw the pendant around Celine’s neck and closed my eyes.
I had spent days at the church, lighting candles and praying on my knees, just to get that pendant blessed for Alden.
I dialed his number, gripping the phone tightly, but could not find the words to say.
The line rang for a long time. I thought he would not answer.
But unexpectedly, it connected. Alden’s breathless voice came through.
"Alden, if you don’t come home now, your wife will get mad."
"Don’t worry about her. This is our time."
Then Celine let out a soft moan before the line cut off.
Tears blurred my vision. I could not see the screen clearly, but with trembling fingers, I still managed to dial the hospital.
Alden Crestwell, I don’t want this kind of life anymore.
