THE CONVICTED SON IN LAW

A Husband in Name Only

Sunlight spilled through the wide glass windows of the Roland apartment, landing across the marble floor and the expensive Italian furniture that Michelle loved showing off to guests. The apartment was a world of beauty and wealth as everything screamed of luxury and perfection.

Everything except the man who lived in it.

Jayden sat quietly by the small dining table, a half finished cup of coffee cooling beside him. He wore a plain shirt that had lost its color after too many washes and a pair of trousers that didn’t quite fit right. His hands, rough from menial labor, were folded neatly in front of him as he waited for Michelle.

She had been gone for two nights. He’d stopped asking where she went. Every time he did, it only ended with her laughing at him full of disdain,or worse ignoring him completely.

The sound of heels clicked against the floor. Jayden turned his head, and there she appeared. Michelle radiant even in her carelessness, wearing a short dress and dark sunglasses though they were still inside. Her hair fell freely around her shoulders, slightly messy, but it only made her look effortlessly beautiful.

"Good morning,"Jayden said quietly, managing a small smile.

She didn’t reply. She walked past him as if he wasn’t there, grabbed a bottle of water from the counter, and took a seat while scrolling through her phone.

"I made coffee," Jayden said after a moment. There’s still some left if you want."

"I don’t drink coffee this early, she cut him off sharply, without looking up. Also stop acting like we’re some middle-class couple sharing breakfast in the suburbs. You don’t need to play the husband role."

The words hit harder than they should have. Jayden lowered his gaze. "I was just trying to....."

"Don’t try, she said flatly, finally turning to look at him. It’s pathetic and cringing."

She set her water bottle down and walked toward the hallway, her heels echoing through the silence.

Jayden watched her disappear into the bedroom, feeling that familiar hollow ache inside him. Once, he used to think silence between them was better than an argument. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

He stood up slowly and went to the kitchen sink. The coffee had gone cold, so he poured it down the drain. He washed the cup quietly, as if the act itself gave him something to hold on to. Something that made him feel human.

Moments later, Michelle’s voice came from the bedroom. "I will be going out for a few days."

He froze, the sponge slipping slightly from his hand. "A few days?"

"Yes, she said casually, emerging with a designer bag slung over her shoulder. It's a business trip you know..."

Jayden looked at her, his chest tightening. "Business trip? he repeated softly.

"With who?" he asked.

She shot him a cold glare. "What are you, my father?"

He said nothing in response as usual,he knows that he could never win her in a battle of words.

Michelle walked toward the door, paused briefly, and turned to glance at him. "Don’t call me while I’m gone. I will call you if I feel like it."

The door slammed, leaving him alone in the echoing apartment.

.........

Jayden stayed there for a long while, staring at the closed door. The silence felt heavier than ever. He could almost hear the faint laughter of the Roland family in his mind. Cassandra’s mocking voice, Roland Senior’s scorn.

A husband who couldn’t even keep his wife home.

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand across his face. The smell of Michelle’s perfume still lingered in the air, sweet and distant, a reminder that he was married only in name.

Later that afternoon, Jayden left the apartment and made his way into the city. He couldn’t stand sitting in those four walls any longer. The streets of Kreg City were alive with noise with cars honking, people shouting, the rhythm of urban life beating fast.

He wandered aimlessly, his hands deep in his pockets. His wallet was nearly empty. The money Michelle’s father had given him after the wedding "pocket change," he’d called it had run out months ago. Jayden had been surviving on small construction jobs and part-time labor at the docks. None of it paid much, but it gave him something Michelle could never understand . It gave him dignity and he is proud of himself.

Still, every time he returned home, the sight of her luxury handbags and diamond jewelry reminded him just how wide the gap between their worlds truly was.

He spent the next few days working at a small auto shop on the outskirts of town. The pay was low, but the owner, Mr. Grant, was kind enough to give him lunch every day.

"You’ve got good hands, kid," Mr. Grant said one afternoon, wiping grease from his palms.Have you ever done mechanical work before?"

Jayden shook his head. "No, sir. I just learn fast."

Mr. Grant smiled faintly. "That’s a good trait. Most people these days don’t want to learn. They just want quick money."

Jayden smiled politely. If only quick money were an option. But he was learning slowly that life didn’t hand out miracles to men like him.

When evening came, he returned home to the empty apartment. He cooked a small meal, ate alone, and cleaned up after himself. The silence was deafening.

He tried calling Michelle once just to ask if she was safe, but the call didn’t go through. Her number had blocked him.

Jayden sat in the dark living room afterward, staring out the window at the glittering city lights below. He wondered where she was, who she was with. Deep down, he already knew.

He thought of confronting her when she returned. But every time he imagined it, he saw Roland Senior’s cold face in his mind: "Don’t forget where you come from, Jayden. Men like you don’t question women like my daughter."

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. "Maybe one day, he murmured to himself. “Maybe one day I will be more than this.”

.......

Michelle returned on the fourth night.

Jayden had just finished washing the dishes when he heard the door open. She walked in quietly, but with Venny. A tall and confident man,, his expression smug as ever. Jayden froze mid-step, his heart pounding.

Michelle’s eyes widened slightly when she saw Jayden standing there. "You’re home?"

Jayden’s voice was low. "You brought him here?"

Venny chuckled. "Relax, brother-in-law. We’re just here to pick something up."

Jayden’s jaw clenched. "Brother-in-law, he repeated quietly. Don’t call me that."

Michelle stepped between them quickly. "Jayden, stop embarrassing yourself. Venny’s just helping me with a project."

"At midnight?"Jayden asked bitterly.

Her expression hardened. "Don’t you dare question me."

Venny smirked, hands in his pockets. "You should listen to your wife, Jayden. Know your place."

Jayden took a step forward before stopping himself. Every nerve in his body screamed to hit that smug grin off Venny’s face, but he didn’t. He knew how it would end. The Rolands would hear about it, and he would be the villain once again.

Michelle grabbed Venny’s arm and started toward the bedroom. Jayden stared as the door shut behind them.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two.

He sat on the couch, fists clenched, staring at the closed door, hearing muffled voices, laughter, whispers, something else he couldn’t bear to acknowledge.

When the door finally opened, Venny walked out first, buttoning his shirt. "Nice seeing you, Jayden, he said mockingly. You take care, alright?"

Jayden didn’t answer. His silence only made Venny laugh harder.

Michelle emerged moments later, fixing her hair. "Clean the living room before you sleep,"she said coldly, as though nothing had happened.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Do you even see me as your husband anymore?"

Michelle’s gaze met his empty, detached. "You’re just… convenient. Don’t overthink your role."

And with that, she walked away.

That night, Jayden sat outside on the balcony, the city lights glimmering below. The air was cool, but he didn’t feel it. His heart was burning, his soul hollow.

He had been a fool. Every bit of love he’d given her was nothing but a tool in her hands. A way to defy her father. A way to hide her sins. A way to have a name to cover her scandals.

He pressed his palms together, staring out into the darkness.