I Was His Wife, Never His Choice

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My husband, Aaron, and I were supposed to go on our honeymoon to Bali.

At the boarding gate, he suddenly stopped, his expression casual, and spoke. He said our love had received everyone's blessings, so he wouldn't be going on the honeymoon.

I froze, completely unable to process it, only able to stare blankly and ask him what he meant.

He smiled, took off the wedding ring from his ring finger, and gently placed it in my palm. He told me he had a "canary" he needed to tend to constantly and had already promised to be with her. He also said that marrying me had already made him indebted to that woman; I got the title of Mrs. Morris, and she got him, which he considered fair.

My head buzzed, my lips bit until they bled, and I tremblingly asked him when this had happened. His tone carried a hint of apology, yet he seemed innocent, saying it had been going on for half a year. He hadn't dared to bring it up because of my fiery temper. He said he'd wanted to marry me since he was a child, but a man couldn't possibly love only one person his entire life. He even suggested that if I felt wronged, we could each "play the field," and it pained him to see me upset.

The wedding ring in my palm still gleamed with a pure white light, but the pregnancy test tucked in my pocket felt searing hot, as if about to burn.

I smiled, though tears streamed down my face, and nodded at him. I said he was right; I shouldn't wrong myself.

Aaron paused for two seconds, then smiled and ruffled my hair, a relieved chuckle escaping him. "Good, glad you've come to your senses. With your temper, I was genuinely worried you'd go after Rosalie."

"Oh, by the way, where did you put your wedding dress? I was a little too rough with her last night; her nail caught the lace on the skirt lining. She's been meaning to fix it for you."

It felt as though someone had clamped their hand around my throat. A chill spread from the soles of my feet through my entire body. He, however, seemed oblivious, smiling apologetically. "She was crying, begging me to let her try on your wedding dress, wanting to be my bride just once. You're both women, you can understand, right?"

I looked at his flippant gaze, and three hours ago, I recalled how, supported by my best friend, I had been walked down the aisle, wearing this very wedding dress a symbol of happiness now stained with my husband's and his mistress's lust to be given to the man before me. A wave of sickening nausea instantly surged into my throat. The ring dug into my palm, and I trembled with pain.

He took off his overcoat and draped it over my shoulders, gently embracing me, soothing, "Why are you shaking? Mrs. Morris will always be you." Aaron's charming eyes still held an impossibly deep affection. It was as if he wasn't the one who had just casually mentioned messing around with another woman for a year, engaging in passionate embraces while she wore my wedding dress. A jarring sense of absurdity washed over me, leaving me gasping for air.

He sighed in resignation. "I know you're upset, but the young lady is willing to be with me without any status, and she's even generous enough not to contend for your position as Mrs. Morris. If I don't spend more time with her, what kind of man would I be?"

"Rosalie is different from other women, very pure and self-respecting. If she didn't truly love me, she would never be a 'canary.' She's sacrificed so much for me; I can't let her down. Even though you have a fiery temper, you've always been reasonable, you understand me, right?"

Love? I almost laughed until tears came. I loved him too. My temper was indeed fiery, yet in front of him, I softened, making myself humble and accommodating. I was reasonable, yet I would stubbornly hound paparazzi over a scandalous rumor about him, arguing with respected elders to clear his name. My love he ignored, another woman's love he cherished.

I curled my cold fingers, closing my eyes in self-mockery. "If you're so in love, then let's get a divorce."

Aaron paused for two seconds, then chuckled softly. "I just complimented you on your improved temper, and now you're going to make a scene?"

"You've been with me since you were eighteen, and you've had two miscarriages. If you leave me, what man out there would dare take you on?"

I stared at him, my heart feeling like a red-hot coal had rolled over it. Twenty-eight years. We'd escaped the orphanage together, slept under bridges, shared a single bowl of instant noodles. During our toughest times, we only had water to fill our stomachs. Because we had no money for birth control or abortions, I endured the freezing cold, climbing stairs only to fall down them, bearing the pain and crying until I was exhausted as I lost two children.

Aaron knelt by my bedside, stabbing himself twice. His blood-stained hand tremblingly covered my eyes, his words ringing in my ears, "Charlotte, I promise I'll give you a good life. If I ever wrong you, may I be struck by lightning."

The promise was heavy. I believed it for half my life and was willful for half my life. The physical harm, the mental stress, the mundane drudgery of everyday life... all meant I couldn't always have a gentle temper. Until half an hour ago, when Aaron held me and solemnly promised our friend he'd be good to me forever, I thought following him had been worth it my entire life.

My phone rang. The ringtone was distinctive. It had appeared many times in the night, and Aaron always said it was a client. Because I trusted him so much, I never doubted. Now I realized how foolish I'd been.

He didn't answer immediately, his voice calm, as if placating an unreasonable child. "Why bother with a mere distraction? Are we really going to abandon our twenty-eight years together because of an outsider?"

"You're not young anymore, Charlotte. No parents, no job. Only I will support you. Any more drama, and it won't be appropriate." He handed his luggage to his assistant. "I'll have my assistant accompany you to relax. I'm going to be with Rosalie. Think carefully about what I've said."

The moment Aaron turned to leave, he answered the phone. "Baby, Daddy's on his way..."

That word, "Daddy," felt like a slap, sharply stinging my face. I ran to the restroom, gagging until my face was streaked with tears. Taking out the searing hot pregnancy test from my pocket, I pulled out my phone and made a call.

Aaron was right; I shouldn't wrong myself.

Too weak for a honeymoon, I dismissed the assistant and walked alone towards our marital home. Entering the password, I opened the door.

A faint, intimate gasp from a man drifted out.

"Could your uncle and aunt have been prescient? Naming you Rosalie is truly fitting."

"Ever since I've been with you, I've barely touched her. I told her I was 'sexually repressed,' except for that one time I tricked her into giving me the property deed to transfer the house to you."

"She's pitiable? The position of Mrs. Morris is hers. The one I need to compensate now is you."

"So kind-hearted. How about Daddy gives you his life?"

Each brazen, flippant word, laced with disdain, assaulted my ears. I stood frozen in the doorway, my body tingling as if shocked.

Six months ago, Aaron had shown me a diagnosis report for "sexual repression," his face full of apology. "Honey, our future marital life might be compromised. Please don't leave me, okay?" I felt sorry for him, trying every way to please him, but it was always fruitless. Until two months ago, when he suddenly came home drunk and we were intimate. I thought my efforts had finally worked, but it was just a reluctant act for him to set up a property for his canary... That's when I conceived the child.

Though it was the warmest part of early spring, I felt as if I were in a world of ice and snow.

An hour later, Aaron emerged from the bedroom, arm-in-arm with a strikingly beautiful woman. Seeing me in the living room, Rosalie reacted as if greatly startled, her eyes instantly reddening. "Sister, it's all my fault. This is your and Aaron's marital home. I shouldn't have come here, but I really loved this villa so much. I thought you were away on vacation and wouldn't run into me, but I didn't expect"

She suddenly pouted, bursting into tears. "Please don't blame Aaron, and please don't kick me out. I truly love Aaron, I'm not here to break you two up, I'm here to join you." With that, she dropped to her knees before me, kowtowing repeatedly.

Aaron's face instantly changed. He urgently pulled her into his arms, comforting and soothing her gently. "Didn't I tell you not to hurt yourself no matter what you do? Why don't you ever listen? It pains me."

"Oh, never mind. You're naturally kind and simple; you'll never change. I'll just have to protect you more."

He looked at me, a flicker of complexity and impatience in his eyes. "Charlotte, you've scared her. I should have known you wouldn't leave quietly. Now that you've caused a scene, are you happy?"

The sudden rhetorical question left my mind blank for a moment. I hadn't said a single word since I entered the house. This villa was Aaron's and my marital home. I was his legally wedded wife, Mrs. Morris. Yet, for his canary, even witnessing the culprit who destroyed everything was a mistake.

Seeing my sarcastic smile, Aaron's eyes flickered. He suddenly released Rosalie and walked towards me, his voice softening. "Alright, both of you are my darlings. You're both equally precious to me. From now on, the three of us will live in this villa together."

"This afternoon, there's a banquet. Come with me."

Just as I was about to refuse, Aaron interrupted me. "Rosalie is going too. It's her first time at such an event. You can help her with her dress and lend her some support."

I froze, finding it ridiculously amusing. Then, remembering the little time I had left, I didn't argue further.

Before the banquet, Rosalie claimed she had no suitable dress and picked out a unique couture gown and accessories from my wardrobe C the ones I had worn as Mrs. Morris for Aaron's company's IPO debut. She walked in, arm in arm with Aaron, while I held her train, becoming the center of attention. The guests' ridicule followed me like a shadow.

"Mr. Morris really knows how to manage a wife. His wife holds up his mistress's skirt and dares not utter a peep."

"They call her Mrs. Morris, but really she's just a glorified maid, worse than a dog."

"This Charlotte Price must be an idiot, used for over two decades and gained nothing. She might as well be dead."

I fled the banquet hall, wanting to hide in the restroom. Instead, a sharp slap landed on my face. Clutching my stinging cheek, I stared incredulously at the woman before me. Rosalie flexed her wrist, the facade of gentleness stripped away from her face.

"Aaron and I were like that right in front of you, and you still shamelessly cling to him. Aren't you pathetic?!"

"You garbage, born of no mother and raised by no one, divorce Aaron quickly, or one day, you might lose an arm or a leg, and that wouldn't be good"

My head buzzed. All I saw was the woman's sharp, vicious face, her mouth constantly opening and closing. I laughed in fury, but Rosalie didn't give me a chance to retaliate. She suddenly shrieked, tore open the chest of her gown, and fell backward.

"Charlotte Price!"

Aaron rushed over from the center of the banquet, helping Rosalie up and pulling her into his embrace. She cried, unable to stand, tears flowing instantly.

"Aaron, I know I'm the other woman, and I ruined your marriage with Miss Price. I already know I was wrong. I shouldn't have appeared. I'm a vicious wretch!"

With that, she repeated her trick, slapping herself twice hard across the face. Aaron grabbed her hands, his jaw clenched. "Who said those things?"

Rosalie bit her lip, clutching her clothes tightly. "Please, don't ask." But as her eyes swept over me, her body trembled. "Someone like me can't afford to offend rich and powerful ladies like you. Aaron, I was too naive, thinking love could conquer all. I'm not worthy of you. Please let me go. I don't want to be inexplicably killed one day."

Aaron's brows knitted tightly, his gaze fixed on me, hostile. "Explain!"

I lowered my hand, revealing my swollen, red cheek. "You should ask her what she said."

"Miss Price!" Rosalie shrieked, her voice sharp and piercing. "Yes, I slapped you, but that was because you threatened my parents' lives! They're just ordinary people. If you're still not satisfied, let me hit you back. Please, don't hurt them."

My eyes turned red with anger. "You're lying! It was clearly you"

"Enough." Aaron cut me off coldly, looking at me with disappointment. "Charlotte, I've spoiled you rotten."

"Do you think because you have no parents, I can't touch you?"

Perhaps I had expected it, or perhaps I had already grown disheartened. I offered a futile smile, my eyes burning with pain. "So, how do you plan to protect your darling?"

He slowly walked towards me, deliberately pulling off the good luck charm he had personally made for me, the one around my neck, when he earned his first fortune. He turned and instructed his assistant, "Call the police. Mrs. Morris has committed theft, caught red-handed."

I forgot how to move, my mind a blank. Aaron's path to success hadn't been easy; he was accustomed to ruthlessness. I was his only weakness. Regardless of right or wrong, he had always taken my side over what was logical. But now, he was the one plunging the knife into my heart.

Aaron caressed the good luck charm, his cold features growing increasingly unfamiliar in my blurred vision. "Charlotte, you've been a very naughty girl. Go inside and reflect for a few days."

"Don't worry, it won't be long. When you come out, I'll put the good luck charm back on you myself."

I gave a sarcastic twist of my lips. As the police officer walked in, handcuffing me, I expressionlessly pulled my hand from his grip. The sudden emptiness of the touch made Aaron frown uneasily. He stared at my retreating back, a nagging feeling that he could never hold onto me again. Just as he was about to step forward, Rosalie took his arm first.

"Aaron, thank you for sticking up for me. I was so scared just now."

Aaron clicked his tongue, playfully pinching her cheek. "What do you want as compensation?"

Rosalie smiled, taking the good luck charm from his hand and tossing it into the trash. Seeing his face change, she immediately pouted, her eyes reddening with feigned grievance. "Is it that important?"

Rosalie made a move to rummage through the trash. "Then I'll help you find it. After all, it's a memento from your childhood. Even if she hurt me, I don't want you to be troubled."

Aaron put his arm around her waist, completely softened. "You're much more important. Don't get your hands dirty. Here's my black card, buy whatever you want." Rosalie defiantly refused. "I don't want your money, I only love you."

"Yes, yes, I want to spend money on my darling. If you don't spend it, I'm not happy." Rosalie then reluctantly accepted.

Three days later, I was disoriented as I was led out of the confined room. I was escorted straight into a private room at a club. Pushing the door open, Aaron and Rosalie were sharing a grape in the center of the sofa. The grape dropped, and they leaned in, kissing passionately. The cheers and catcalls of the men and women around them almost blew the roof off.

I don't know how long passed before Aaron finally saw me standing in the doorway. He stared at my gaunt, pale face, his expression immediately darkening. "What's wrong? Did someone bully you in there?"

Before I could speak, Rosalie let out a derisive snort. "Sister Charlotte really knows how to manipulate men. With your relationship with Aaron, who would dare bully you? That sickly makeup you've put on looks so realistic; it must have taken you ages."

Aaron, who was about to stand up, settled back down at her words. He took out a cigarette, lighting it with the flame Rosalie offered. The smoke blurred his features; only his eyes, looking at me, showed suppressed impatience.

"Since you've reflected enough, come over and apologize to Rosalie."

Rosalie, dressed in white, sat obediently nestled in Aaron's arms, swirling a glass of unknown strength liquor. "Actually, I don't want to make things difficult for you either."

"But you insulted my parents and threatened to kill them. Anyone would be upset, right?" She paused, then, remembering something, let out a strange exclamation. "Oh, I forgot. Your parents abandoned you when you were little. If it weren't for Aaron, you would have starved to death by now."

I said nothing. Aaron's face was grim, and he remained silent. Rosalie placed her drink on the coffee table and smiled. "Drink up."

I lowered my head. "I'm sorry."

Rosalie shook her head. "Just saying it isn't sincere enough. This drink is 120 proof. You should drink it."

I stared at the bubbling green liquid, instinctively looking at Aaron. In the years I helped him build his empire, I had already developed a perforated stomach from drinking at business functions. Every time I drank, I ended up in the ICU. From then on, Aaron never let me touch alcohol again. But the man before me now merely exhaled a puff of smoke, his indifferent expression as if saying the weather was nice today.

"Charlotte, it's just one drink. Your tolerance isn't that bad."

I had long given up hope, but my heart still tightened uncontrollably. I picked it up and swallowed. The scorching pain seared from my throat down to my stomach. My lower abdomen sank, and I stumbled, doubled over in pain.

"Miss Price's alcohol tolerance is so good, then drink a few more glasses." Rosalie pointed to a row of colorful drinks on the table. My face went cold.

Rosalie looked at Aaron, her expression aggrieved. "Aaron, I was called a mistress, threatened with my parents' death, and suffered such immense emotional damage. Is it too much to ask for this small compensation?"

"Of course not too much," Aaron said, putting his arm around her, grinding his cigarette butt into the ashtray. "Charlotte, I want to help you too, but you went too far. Listen to Rosalie. Once she's appeased, you can atone."

I nodded calmly. Clutching my stomach, which felt like it was being twisted by a knife, I picked up the decanter on the table. "A few drinks aren't enough for atonement. I'll chug the bottle."

When the bottle hit the floor, I couldn't help but cough up blood, collapsing weakly onto the ground. Rosalie recoiled several steps in disgust. "Miss Price, it was just one bottle of wine. Do you really need to use a blood bag?"

Aaron was also convinced by this reasoning, his brow furrowing impatiently. "Alright, how long are you going to keep up this act? Rosalie has been merciful enough to you. Stop making a spectacle of yourself and get up."

I said nothing, looking up at him.

The woman closest to me suddenly shrieked, "Blood! Her pants are covered in blood! This is she's having a miscarriage"

I met Aaron's instantly bloodless face, revealing my most genuine smile of the day.

"Your child is also compensated to her. Is that enough?"