His Forgotten Wife, His Greatest Mistake

​Iridessa’s POV ​The ballroom of the Wilder estate was suffocating, filled with the scent of expensive cologne and the sharp sting of champagne, but I stayed tucked into a shadowed corner behind a marble pillar so I wouldn't have to face anyone. My phone buzzed in my clutch for the tenth time tonight, and when I stole a glance at the screen, another photo appeared from an unknown number, showing Slade leaning close to Malani at a jewelry boutique earlier today. They looked perfect together in the grainy shot, just as they did now, standing in the center of the room under the crystal chandelier while guests whispered about how the CEO of Wilder Tech had finally found his match. ​"They really do look like a power couple, don't they?" a woman in a silk dress murmured to her friend just inches from me, and the other woman nodded while sipping her drink, adding, "It's a shame about that girl he's actually married to, the one who tricked the grandmother into the match, because you can clearly see who he actually belongs with." ​I gripped the edge of my glass so hard my knuckles turned white, because for three years I had endured these whispers while staying silent. When I first married Slade, I actually believed that if I worked hard enough, if I cooked every meal, handled the laundry, and anticipated every whim of his parents and sister, they would eventually see me as one of them. I had spent the first year acting like an unpaid servant, waking up at 5:00 AM to prepare the specific herbal tea Beatrice liked and staying up until midnight to finish the coding projects Slade’s company relied on, all while he treated me like a ghost in the hallway. I thought it was just a matter of time and effort, but then Malani returned from abroad two years ago, and the atmosphere in the house shifted from cold neglect to active worship of her. Suddenly, the family that claimed they were "too busy" for dinner were hosting grand banquets for Malani, and the sister who ignored my existence started calling Malani her "real sister" right in front of my face. ​"Iridessa! What are you doing lurking in the corners like a ghost?" a sharp, cold voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to see Slade’s mother, Beatrice, glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest. "The servers are falling behind on the East wing, so go and make sure the appetizers are being rotated properly instead of standing here acting like a guest." ​I looked at Beatrice, seeing the genuine disdain in her eyes, and I felt a sudden, hot spark of anger that I usually kept buried deep inside. "I am not a member of the catering staff, Beatrice, and I am certainly not a servant you can boss around at my own husband’s celebration," I said, my voice steady despite the way my heart was hammering against my ribs. ​Beatrice’s face paled with fury, her mouth dropping open as if she couldn't believe I had finally talked back, but I didn't give her a chance to respond as I turned on my heel and walked away. I needed to breathe, so I headed straight for the secluded restroom in the hallway, pushing past the heavy oak doors and leaning against the sink to splash cold water on my face. ​Just as I was reaching for a paper towel, two voices drifted in from the lounge area just outside the door, and I froze when I recognized the high-pitched giggle of Slade’s younger sister, Maya. "I honestly don't know how she has the nerve to show her face tonight, especially when Malani is here looking like a queen," Maya said, her tone dripping with mockery, and another girl laughed, asking, "Doesn't she realize Slade only married her because your grandmother forced his hand after that drowning incident?" ​"She’s a gold digger, plain and simple, and she probably jumped into the pool on purpose just to play the hero," Maya sneered, and the sound of their retreating footsteps left me standing in a silence that felt like lead. ​I walked out of the bathroom, my mind heavy with the weight of three years of wasted devotion, but as I rounded the corner toward the back stairs, a heavy weight suddenly slammed into my shoulder. It was Slade, his tie loosened and his eyes glazed over with a strange, unfocused intensity, and he groaned as he slumped against me, his entire body heat seeping through my dress. ​"Slade? What's wrong with you?" I asked, catching his waist to keep him from hitting the floor, and he mumbled something incoherent about a drink before his head dropped onto my shoulder. He was burning up, his breath ragged, and I realized with a jolt of panic that he had been drugged, though I had no idea Malani had been the one to slip it to him. ​I struggled to half-drag, half-carry him up the service stairs to our bedroom, my muscles aching under his dead weight, and when I finally got him through the door and onto the bed, I reached for my phone to call the doctor. But as I turned to leave, Slade’s hand shot out and gripped my wrist with a strength that surprised me, pulling me backward until I fell onto the mattress beside him. ​"Don't go," he rasped, his eyes dark and clouded by whatever was in his system, and before I could protest, he was over me, his lips pressing against mine with a desperation I had never felt from him in three years of cold, empty marriage. ​I knew I should push him off, I knew he didn't know who I was in this state, but a part of me that was starved for his affection stayed still, and for the first time since our wedding night, the distance between us vanished completely. ​The morning light was harsh when it broke through the curtains, and I woke up feeling a brief moment of warmth before the bed shifted violently and Slade stood up, clutching his head. He looked down at me, and instead of the softness of the night before, his face twisted into a mask of pure disgust and hatred. ​"You really never stop, do you, Iridessa?" he spat, his voice trembling with rage as he kicked a discarded pillow across the room. "I should have known you’d take advantage of me being out of it, just like you took advantage of my grandmother’s guilt after Maya’s accident. Did you put something in my drink? Is that the only way you can get me to touch you?" ​"Slade, I didn't drug you, I was only trying to help you because you couldn't even stand," I started to say, sitting up and pulling the sheets to my chest, but he cut me off with a harsh, barking laugh. ​"Help me? You trapped me into a marriage I never wanted by playing the hero, and now you’ve drugged me in my own house just to make sure your spot in this family is secure," he sneered, reaching for his shirt and throwing it on with jerky, angry movements. "You are the most calculating woman I have ever met, and I want you out of my sight before I say something we both regret. Don't think this night changes anything, it only makes me despise you more." ​I watched him walk toward the door, his shoulders tense and his rejection final, and I stayed there in the silence of the room that had never truly been ours, listening to his footsteps fade down the hallway. I looked at the ceiling and wondered why I had spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who genuinely believed I was a monster, and for the first time, the answer didn't matter because I knew I wasn't going to stay to hear it again.