Unwanted Wife

It was night, but the huge mansion of the Illustrious remained bright. Despite the luxurious decorations, expensive furniture, and sparkling chandeliers, the surroundings were lifeless. Cold. Very quiet. Samantha stood in the middle of the vast dining room. She stared alone at the long table where Ethan's favorite dishes were served. The soup was cold. The glass of water was already fogging up from the long wait. Four hours had passed since Ethan's secretary had said he was going home. Samantha sighed and slowly sat down at the end of the table. She held her own hands—also cold. In their two years of being together as a couple, she should have gotten used to them. But why did every time nights like this come, it still hurt? They didn't choose each other. This marriage was the result of an agreement between their respective families—a business alliance to save Samantha's family company in exchange for the power and protection of the Ilustres. To Ethan, Samantha was an obligation. A chain forced upon him by his father. Samantha heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, followed by the heavy footsteps of shoes on the marble floor of the foyer. Samantha immediately stood up. She adjusted her clothes and forced a small smile. Ethan entered. Tall, formal in his dark suit, and with eyes that seemed emotionless. His handsome face bore traces of fatigue, but when their eyes met, it was replaced by a cold expression. "I cooked dinner, Ethan," Samantha began softly as she approached to take her husband's suit jacket. "Do you want me to warm up—" "I'm going out to eat," Ethan cut in coldly and curtly as he pushed the jacket out of Samantha's hands. Samantha was stunned. She slowly lowered her hands. "Ah... is that so. Okay, I'll just put it away." Ethan placed his briefcase on the table and stared at Samantha with slight irritation. "I told you, don't wait for me. Don't make being a wife a job, Samantha. We have maids for that." Every word was like a dagger slowly stabbing Samantha's heart. She wanted to say that she was doing it not because it was a job, but because she was his wife and he loved her—even though the man had never reciprocated that. "I just want to take care of you," Samantha replied in a whisper as she bowed. A deep silence fell between them. Ethan faced her, his necktie slightly loosened. "Do you want to take care of me, or do you want to make it seem like I'm tied to you?" Ethan asked coldly. "Let's not fool around, Samantha. We both know why you're here. Your family has gotten the help you need. Stop pretending that there's anything better than that." Samantha looked up and met her husband's eyes. There was not a trace of pity or tenderness in them. Only anger and rejection. Before Samantha could speak, Ethan's phone rang in his pocket. Ethan looked at the screen, and for the first time tonight, his hard eyes softened. He answered the call right in front of Samantha. "Chloe? Yes... I'm home," Ethan's voice was gentle. "What happened? Are you still feeling bad? Okay, I'll come see you there." Ethan hung up. He looked back at Samantha, not caring if she had heard the conversation or not. "I'm going out again. It's just an emergency. Don't wait for me," Ethan said quickly as he picked up his briefcase again. Samantha stood in the middle of the dining room watching her husband turn around and quickly walk out the door—the man ready to run for another woman, while she, the legal wife, was left shivering in the middle of the cold and enormous mansion. Samantha slowly brought her hand to her chest. There, beneath the intense pain, something slowly shattered and finally died.