He Was Never My Prince
The first time my husband wrapped his hand around my throat…
…I apologized.
Not because I had done anything wrong.
But because I had learned that apologizing was the fastest way to survive.
His fingers tightened just enough to remind me who was in control. My back slammed against the bedroom wall, my wedding ring glinting beneath the dim light as tears blurred my vision.
“You looked at him,” Joel whispered, his voice calm.
Too calm.
“I-I didn’t.”
“Lying is ugly, Hope.”
“I swear, I wasn’t—”
His grip loosened, only to brush a strand of hair behind my ear with heartbreaking tenderness.
“There you are,” he murmured, smiling as if he hadn’t just stolen the air from my lungs. “That’s the wife I love.”
I stared at him, unable to recognize the man standing before me.
The same man who once carried me barefoot through the rain because I complained my heels hurt.
The same man who kissed my swollen feet every night when I was pregnant.
The same man who promised…
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
I never imagined…
…the person I needed protection from would be him.
⸻
Six months earlier…
“I hate men.”
Mimmy burst into laughter, almost spilling her iced coffee.
“You say that after every breakup.”
“I mean it this time.”
“You meant it the last four times too.”
I rolled my eyes and snatched one of her fries.
“I just don’t understand.” I sighed. “Am I really that hard to love?”
Her smile disappeared.
Hope.
That was my name.
A cruel joke, considering I was slowly losing every bit of it.
I had everything people dreamed of.
A successful career.
A beautiful apartment.
Supportive parents.
Money.
Freedom.
But every night, I slept with the same empty feeling in my chest.
I didn’t want expensive gifts.
I didn’t want luxury vacations.
I just wanted someone who would choose me… every single day.
Someone who wouldn’t leave.
Someone who wouldn’t lie.
Someone who would love me without making me beg for it.
“You’ll find him,” Mimmy said softly.
I forced a smile.
“I’ve been hearing that for years.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“When the right man comes, he’ll make all those heartbreaks worth it.”
I laughed.
“I think God forgot to write my love story.”
At that exact moment…
Someone walked into the café.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Sharp jawline.
A navy-blue suit that looked like it had been tailored just for him.
He smiled politely at the elderly woman struggling with the door before holding it open for her.
Simple.
Gentle.
Effortless.
Then…
His eyes met mine.
For one impossible second…
The entire café disappeared.
He smiled.
And my heart—so tired of being broken—
Made the biggest mistake of my life.
It smiled back.
