Married to a Man Who Loved Someone Else

Chapter 3

When Hazel opened her eyes again, she was staring up at a cold, white ceiling. Her body felt heavy, every muscle resisting the urge to move. Strange, she almost felt relieved.

At least she was still alive.

The hospital door clicked open.

A man in a well-tailored suit stepped in, her lawyer, folder in hand. He approached the bed with quiet professionalism.

"Ms. Moore," he said evenly, extending the document toward her. "This is the divorce papers you requested."

He paused briefly before adding, "Once signed, there's a thirty-day waiting period. If neither party contests, the marriage will be dissolved automatically."

Hazel’s hand twitched. Her fingertips turned cold.

Seconds passed before she could speak, her voice barely surfacing: "…Thank you."

The lawyer hesitated, then produced another folder and set it beside her.

"Also," he said more quietly, "the investigation you requested, concerning Mr. Blake and the young woman."

He added, almost gently, "It's all in there."

Her heart seized. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then slowly, with trembling fingers, she opened the folder.

She read every page, every word. Her face grew paler with each line.

The girl’s name was Liora.

She had been Christian’s childhood friend, and his first love, buried deep but never forgotten. They say the love you find in youth is the purest, most consuming kind. Even Christian, always so composed, hadn’t been immune.

Liora had once been the brightest part of his world, the memory he held most dear.

But their families had torn them apart. She was sent abroad.

Christian fell apart after she left. He sank into a depression so deep that his parents grew desperate, then ruthless.

"If you keep this up," they’d warned, "don’t think we won’t make sure that girl never comes back."

Terrified they’d harm her, Christian buried his defiance. He became hollow, compliant. A son shaped by their hands, not his own will.

He accepted everything they arranged. Including his marriage.

Hazel had simply been his first political match.

He’d agreed without a fight.

The truth sat before her now, page after page, cold, unflinching. Each word carved into her like a knife laced with venom.

So that was it. It had all been a lie.

The man she’d loved, the man she thought had loved her, had married her only to keep the peace. Only to protect someone else.

Someone he could never have.

And Hazel… she had never been anything but a stand-in.

The irony crashed over her then, so sharp and absurd that a broken laugh escaped her lips.