Tyler had severe sensory issues. After his car accident, Tyler couldn’t stand even the slightest noise. To accommodate his illness, I wore noiseless slippers at home. I even held my breath whenever I walked past him. One night, I couldn’t help but sneeze. Tyler lost his mind, relapsing instantly, and kicked me straight out of bed. That kick cost me our five-month-old unborn baby. Yet right now, Tyler was sitting in a deafening VIP lounge at a downtown club. The heavy bass was vibrating through the floorboards, shaking my chest. Instead of throwing a tantrum, Tyler was watching my adopted sister, Polly, with pure adoration as she danced wildly to the music. The moment he saw me walk in, Tyler’s face iced over. “What are you doing here, Alyssa? Don’t ruin Polly’s graduation party. Go wait for us outside.” “And remember to whip up a hangover cure the second you get home. Polly’s stomach gets sensitive when she drinks.” I didn’t say a word. I just threw the divorce papers right in his face.
The noisy VIP lounge went dead silent. Tyler frowned, brushing the papers away. The white sheets scattered all over the sticky club floor. “Alyssa, what kind of childish stunt is this?” “Look at yourself. Is this how a decent wife behaves?” The sheer disgust in his eyes was blinding. It was as if my very existence was a chore to him. I took a shaky breath, a sharp pain radiating from my chest. I couldn’t help but ask: “And how is a ‘decent wife’ supposed to behave? Like Polly?” “Since you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t we just get a divorce so you can put a ring on her finger? That way, I won’t be standing in your way anymore.” Tyler didn’t expect me—the girl who had always been submissive—to humiliate him in public. He stared at me, his gaze resembling that of an owner looking at a pet throwing a sudden tantrum. He let out a heavy, patronizing sigh and reached out to grab my hand. I took a step back, dodging his touch. His hand froze in mid-air. Slowly, his expression darkened. “Alyssa, do you still think you’re the pampered heiress of the Franklin family?” “Look at you. Aside from me, what man would ever want to marry a ruined woman like you?” The moment those words left his mouth, my eyes went wide. I stared at him as if he were a complete stranger. Before I turned eighteen, my life was perfect. But maybe my happiness was too loud, and fate decided to silence it. On my eighteenth birthday, I was kidnapped. I was tortured, broken, and left wishing for death. It took a whole year before the police finally rescued me from that basement. I foolishly thought I could just go back to my old life. But the ugly scars all over my body and my heavily pregnant belly were constant slaps to my face. My old friends, who used to kiss the ground I walked on, gave me pitying looks. But behind my back, they whispered. They treated my trauma as juicy gossip over brunch. Even my parents, who used to worship me, started treating me like the family’s dirty little secret. Eventually, they adopted Polly—the nanny’s daughter. They didn’t want a broken daughter anymore. They wanted a clean, shiny new one. I was so exhausted back then. I wanted to end it all, but Tyler saved me. He dragged me back from the edge. He spent months telling me it wasn’t my fault. He told me not to be afraid, that he would protect me forever. But in just five years, the man who once rebuilt my entire world had turned into a monster. I stared at him, tears blurring my vision. Seeing my tears, Tyler seemed to realize he had gone too far. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone softening a bit. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up…” “But today is Polly’s high school graduation. You’re her older sister. Can’t you just let her have her moment for once?” For once? Hadn’t I let her have every single moment over the past few years? Ever since she entered the Franklin estate, she had made it her mission to throw her perfect life in my face. She constantly reminded me of how much our parents loved her. How they were a “real” family. She made sure I knew that my presence was a stain on the family name. But I was too tired to fight her. So I stood by and watched her steal my parents’ love, my inheritance, and my place in the family. Yet, she only grew greedier. Even after I married Tyler, she refused to let me go. Whenever she ran into sketchy guys, twisted her ankle, forgot her umbrella… or just felt sad, she would call. She always had a million emergencies to drag Tyler away from me. In the past, I lied to myself. I told myself Tyler only cared about Polly because she was my sister. But now, the illusion was shattered. You can’t hide love. His endless excuses, his protective instincts, his constant favoritism—it was all glaringly obvious. The woman Tyler loved was never me.
Before I could say anything, Polly pushed her way through the crowd. She smiled sweetly at me, looking genuinely thrilled by my arrival. “Alyssa! You came to celebrate with me after all?” “It’s all Tyler’s fault. He kept saying you hated loud places. I’m so happy you’re here!” With her bright eyes and bubbly tone, anyone would think she was just an innocent, sweet girl. But I didn’t miss the cruel gleam of triumph in her eyes. A wave of nausea hit me. I was done playing nice. I let out a cold laugh. “Aren’t you tired of acting after all these years, Polly?” “You already took my parents, my friends, and my status. Is this pathetic little game still fun for you?” Polly’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. She looked incredibly hurt. “Alyssa… how could you say that about me?” “I know I’m just adopted. I’ve never forgotten my place. I would never try to steal anything from you.” I ignored her act and took a step toward her. “You want Tyler too, right? Fine. He’s yours. Consider him my graduation gift to you. Do you like it?” Before the last word left my mouth, a glass of red wine was splashed directly over my head. Tyler quickly pulled Polly into his arms, shielding her, and glared at me with pure rage. “Alyssa! That is enough!” “Just because you’re a useless failure doesn’t mean you get to drag down everyone who is better than you!” “She’s your sister! There’s a limit to your jealousy. And now you’re throwing a tantrum about divorce? You’re pathetic.” A sneer curled on his lips. He was entirely convinced that I could never survive without him. He thought this was just another desperate attempt to get his attention. I wiped the dripping wine from my face, blinking back the burning tears. A failure? Useless? So that was what I was to him. A pathetic, disgusting burden. Then why did he go through all that trouble to save me five years ago? Why did he insist on marrying me despite all the rumors? When he was teaching me how to love myself again, was he laughing inside? When he kissed my scars with tears in his eyes, was he secretly holding back vomit? What an incredible actor. “Tyler, let’s get a divorce. I’m not playing games.” The smirk on Tyler’s face slowly faded. He stared at me. Then, he let out a harsh laugh, as if he had just heard a hilarious joke. “Divorce? Where would you even go? Back to the Franklins? They don’t want you.” “Look at you. Every single thing on your body was bought with my money.” “I’ve clearly spoiled you too much. If you’re so independent, stop using my credit cards.” “Even the clothes you’re wearing right now are paid for by me. You want a divorce? Fine. Strip right here, give them back, and leave!” The lounge gasped. All eyes locked onto me. The whispers, the mocking grins, and the sudden clicking of phone cameras filled the air. Polly tugged at Tyler’s sleeve, pretending to be shocked. “Tyler, stop! Calm down!” “Alyssa, why do you have to be so stubborn? If you hate me, I’ll stay away from you. Why are you taking it out on Tyler?” “Just apologize to—” Before she could finish, I unzipped my jacket and let it drop to the floor. I didn’t stop. I reached for the buttons of my shirt. One, two… “Fuck!” Tyler cursed, lunging forward to wrap his own coat around me. He gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing. “Alyssa, you’re a psycho!” “Are you trying to make me a laughingstock?!”
Without caring about the crowd, Tyler grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. He dragged me out of the club, threw me into the passenger seat of his car, and slammed the door shut. A second later, he climbed in, leaning over to pin me against the cold door. His hand wrapped tightly around my throat. His eyes were wild with fury, his grip tightening as he growled: “Fine… you win!” “Throwing a tantrum like this just because I forgot our anniversary? You really are desperate.” It was pathetic. Even now, he genuinely believed this entire meltdown was just a twisted game to make him pay attention to me. Looking at his furious face, I actually laughed. I laughed at his arrogance. I laughed at his stupidity. Five years ago, when Tyler’s outburst caused my miscarriage, I had begged for a divorce. But the Franklins refused to support me. They told me I should be grateful that a man like Tyler was willing to overlook my “baggage” and marry me. They blamed me for ruining my marriage over an “accident.” Tyler had knelt by my hospital bed back then, sobbing and shaking. He told me that ever since he witnessed my kidnapping, he had suffered from terrible nightmares. He said he could still hear my screams every time he closed his eyes. He hated himself for asking me out that day. He hated himself for letting go of my hand to help a stranger. Over time, his PTSD and anxiety grew worse. The slightest noise triggered his fight-or-flight response. He couldn’t control himself. He held me tight, crying so sincerely. But my heart was already dead. That was my baby. That was my only hope for a fresh start. How could he murder my child and then casually ask for forgiveness? How was I supposed to just live happily ever after with him? But what choice did I have? My life was already a trainwreck. What was the point of fighting? So, I went home with him. I never mentioned the baby again. But soon, I realized something. His “uncontrollable PTSD” disappeared the moment Polly was around. He could tolerate any noise, any chaos, as long as Polly was the one making it. That was the moment I realized. He didn’t hate the noise. He hated me. Since we both despised each other, there was no point in dragging this out. From now on, we were both free. Seeing my face turn red from the lack of oxygen, Tyler finally let go of my throat. He turned his head away, refusing to look at me. He slammed on the gas, driving us home in tense, suffocating silence. The moment we got back, Tyler went straight to the shower. I walked into the study to print out a fresh copy of the divorce papers. The moment I turned on his laptop, his SnapChat started flashing. He had forgotten to log out. I clicked on the chat. The screen was filled with messages between him and Polly. I watched him apologize for ruining her graduation night, making promise after promise to make it up to her. He sounded like a teenage boy head-over-heels in love. Then, I saw his text: Tyler: [Ugh, I don’t know what kind of crazy episode Alyssa is having today.] Tyler: [I’m hiding in the bathroom right now. Honestly, just the thought of having to touch her tonight makes me want to throw up.] Polly’s reply was quick, dripping with fake innocence: Polly: [Tyler, please don’t say that. Alyssa is your wife. It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have let myself fall for you.] Polly: [It physically hurts thinking about you two together, but there’s nothing I can do.] The flirting, the mocking, the casual way they ripped my dignity to shreds—it made my blood run cold. My heart hammered against my ribs. I placed my fingers on the keyboard, typed a quick message, and hit send: [You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m out.]
A second later, the account was force-logged out from another device. Within minutes, Tyler burst into the study with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his panic with anger. “Why the hell were you snooping through my SnapChat? Where are your manners?” He raised his voice, desperately trying to cover up his betrayal. I was too exhausted to fight. I tried to walk past him to go to the bedroom. Thinking I was backing down, he reached out to wrap his arm around my waist. I flinched away, dodging his touch, locked myself in the bedroom, and went to sleep. It was the best sleep I had in years. At dawn, a loud crash woke me up. The bedroom door was kicked open. Tyler marched in, his face contorted with rage. “Alyssa! Did you post anonymous threads calling Polly a homewrecker?” “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Stripping at the club to get clout, and then leaking lies about Polly to ruin her reputation?” “I didn’t realize you could be this calculating.” My head was pounding. I groaned, turning away. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t care enough to.” My indifferent attitude only pushed him over the edge. Tyler lunged forward and slapped me across the face. The loud crack echoed in the quiet room. The force of the blow knocked me back onto the mattress. My head spun, and I had to swallow the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. Tyler froze, staring at his own hand, realizing what he had just done. “Alyssa… I…” “Get out!” I wiped the blood from my lip. The very last trace of affection I had for this man died right then and there. Tyler opened his mouth to explain, but his phone started ringing. He glanced at the screen, muttered “stay put,” and rushed out of the room. I dragged myself out of bed, forced down some breakfast, and grabbed the suitcase I had packed weeks ago. When I arrived at the airport terminal, I noticed people staring at me. Whenever I caught their eyes, they quickly looked away, whispering furiously to their friends. “So tragic…” “The kidnapping…” “Oh my God, is that her?” A chill ran down my spine. My grip on my suitcase tightened. My heart beat so fast it felt like it was going to burst through my throat. With trembling fingers, I opened Twitter. The top trending hashtag in New York was: #Tyler’s Wife: The Kidnapped Heiress and the Secret Pregnancy.# The article leaked highly confidential photos from five years ago. Staring at the screen, my head felt like it was splitting open. Through the static in my mind, I was dragged back to that horrifying day five years ago. I saw my eighteen-year-old self—naked, bruised, and pregnant under the blinding flashlights of the paparazzi after being rescued. Even though the Franklins had spent millions to scrub those photos from the internet back then, the humiliation was permanently branded into my soul. There was no way Tyler hadn’t seen this. And yet, he let them drag me through the mud just to protect Polly. With shaking hands, I called Tyler. He picked up almost instantly, his voice filled with a tenderness I hadn’t heard in years. “Alyssa, don’t be scared. I’m here.” “Just stay home. Don’t look at your phone. I’ll be back to hold you as soon as I finish this meeting.” I paused, my voice barely a whisper. “Why did you do it, Tyler?” There was a long, agonizing silence on the other end. “Alyssa, I’m sorry. By the time I found out, the leak was already viral. I couldn’t stop it.” “But you’re my wife. As long as I don’t care about your past, what does it matter what public thinks?” “Besides… this leak successfully buried the threads exposing Polly. It was the only way to save her. It’s a win-win, right?” I couldn’t hear whatever else he said. The world went cold. My legs gave out, my vision turned black, and I collapsed onto the hard airport floor.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “436638”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster
Leave a Reply