The Wife He Never Thought He'd Lose

I was Bellport high society's best-behaved laughingstock. While other wives checked their husbands' bills and chased off pretty young assistants, I took care of Alex Hawthorne's mistresses. I chose their birthday gifts, arranged their private flights, and even remembered what they liked to drink when they were sick. Moreover, if a gossip magazine caught him kissing another woman, I handled the press and asked reporters to leave that woman alone. This time, Alex had fallen for Lily, an art student, and lost interest in Scarlett, the model he'd been seeing for five years. Scarlett stormed into the estate with a photographer, smashed several antiques, then slashed her wrist and ended up in a private hospital. Alex didn't go. As always, I cleaned up the mess. In the hospital room, Scarlett clutched my hand, tears streaking her cheeks. "Evelyn, he used to treat me so well. How could he just walk away so suddenly?" I set her water within reach. "A man who never bends for anyone cooked for you and held an umbrella over you. Of course you thought you were special. You know, when he was pursuing me, he tried even harder. "When I first caught him cheating, I cried and fought too. He knelt beside my hospital bed and swore he'd never hurt me again." Scarlett stared at me, so I continued. "You weren't the first, and Lily won't be the last. Take the money and leave while you can. You have your whole life ahead of you. Why waste it on him?" "I don't want his money. I really love him," she protested. But under my gaze, her voice faded. After a moment, she took a tissue and wiped her tears. "$6 million, plus the riverfront penthouse." I handed her the agreement I'd already prepared. After signing, she gave a bitter laugh. "You only stayed because he gave you $6 million too, didn't you? The daughter of a gambler and a bartender, using him to climb all the way up here. You must be so proud of yourself." I lowered my eyes and gathered the pages. "I was never special to him either. I just came along a few years before the rest of you." When I returned to the estate, Alex wrapped his arms around me from behind. His shirt collar hung open, exposing a fresh hickey. He complained that Scarlett was unreasonable, then asked what jewelry I wanted for cleaning up after her. Everyone in Bellport believed I tolerated his affairs for money. Alex believed it too. As long as the jewelry kept coming and the bills got paid, he assumed I'd keep entertaining his guests and seeing off every woman who refused to leave peacefully. "As your wife, it's my duty to clean up your mess." I pushed his hands away and placed a stack of papers on the table. "Scarlett also wants the apartment where you two stayed. The lawyers have reviewed everything. Just sign." He didn't even read the heading. He signed every page, set the pen on top of the documents, then wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him. "Don't you want to know what I got you?" He nodded toward the jewelry box on the table, kissed the side of my neck, and murmured against my ear, "We've been married seven years, Eve. Give me an heir." If our daughter had lived three years ago, she'd be old enough to call him Daddy by now. I turned away. When my gaze settled on the hickey on his neck, I pressed a hand to his chest. He followed my gaze and touched the mark, then laughed. Lily reminded him of a young version of me, he said. She came from a poor background, had the same stubborn temper, and left all kinds of marks on him, afraid he'd lose interest in her. "You don't need to explain," I said. "I don't care." "You're the best, Eve. Sensible, and you always look out for me." He kissed my cheek and let me go. "I'm going to shower. Tonight, I'm all yours." I watched him go upstairs. Seven years ago, the faintest trace of unfamiliar perfume on his clothes had made me throw his pillow out of our bedroom. He apologized, tossed his jacket in the trash, and promised he'd never bring another woman's scent home again. Later, I found photos of him in bed with someone else on his phone. I smashed glasses, tore up our wedding pictures, and walked barefoot along the waterfront before dawn. But gradually, I learned to book hotel rooms for his mistresses, and he praised me for finally growing up. When the shower started, I returned to the table and pulled the divorce agreement from the bottom of the stack. I'd asked a lawyer to begin the process three months earlier. When Alex received notice, he assumed I was throwing another tantrum and left it all to his staff to handle. Now, his signature, the last piece, was in place. I waived every claim I could have made and asked the Hawthorne family for nothing. All those years, every cent of the $6 million had gone toward my grandmother's care. I only stayed because she still needed the best doctors. Three months ago, she held my hand and said she didn't want any more treatment. I arranged her final care and began preparing to leave. Yesterday, she died peacefully in her sleep. The cemetery arrangements were complete, and my lawyer was waiting for the documents. I photographed the signature page and sent it over, then opened the jewelry box on the table. Beneath the pink diamond lay a card. It read: To my most understanding wife. I slipped off my wedding ring and placed it inside as well. Today was my last day as Mrs. Hawthorne.