From Neglected Wife To Empowered Heiress

ed him, until I saw him tenderly caress another woman-his ex-girlfriend, Annis. When I was later left bleeding on th

elp. He just looked at me with disgust and said,

he truth: Corbin only married me for my family's

wife; I was a

ght was a template for a friend. It was our divorce agreement. He's about to find out he's not just sin

pte

edy

o touch me because of his severe mysophobia and OCD. But that lie shattered today,

nce" of the Manhattan DA's office, a man whose cold precision in the courtroom was legendary. I was Kennedy Pitts, a socialite a

e, preceded by three years of dating,

fabric, and season, each hanger precisely one inch apart. My side was... well, it was a closet. We had separate bathrooms, s

ourly. He wore gloves to handle the mail. He never touched doorknob

er, ever t

ked in Central Park. Our wedding kiss had been a brief, sterile press of his lips to my foreh

had tried. Oh,

in were poison ivy. "Kennedy, please," he would murmur, his voice tight with a discomfort that I mistook for a s

to watch him politely decline, explaining he could only eat food

oks. They would be accepted with a cool, "Thank you, Kennedy," and then d

inely tuned instrument and his phobias were the unfortunate side effect. I believed that beneath the l

s a

certainty of a lightning strike

Corbin was supposed to be in court, delivering the closing arguments on a high-pr

wasn'

ity that seemed to command protection. Corbin's entire posture, which was usually ram

Corbin immediately shrugged off his tailored suit jacket-a jacket I knew cost more than

ring his customary gloves. His bare fingers, long and elegant, gently brushed a wisp of her dark hair from h

he cameras, but a genuine, soft smile that reached his

tilted o

at had defined our entire relationship... it was a lie. Or, at the very le

focus. I zoomed in, the image pixelated but undeniable. Corbin, my husband, care

ic

like a gunshot in the

ped me back to reality as she slid into the chair

t swiveled my phone and

hot up. "Whoa. Is that... Corbin? Who's

Who was she? Who was the woman

raw whisper.

.. she looks familiar. Hold on." She pulled out her own phone, her thumbs flying across the s

Corbin stood with his arm around the same woman, both of them beaming. The c

ar, a blank space in the six years of

ce gentle. "They were... intense. The 'it' couple of

?" I asked, my

's ancient history, Ke

cold washing over me. He had

as this one time, during a mock trial competition, she got a paper cut. Just a tiny little thing. Corbin stopped the entire proceeding, carried her out of the room, and

t. He had thrown away a schola

haking with pain and fear. He' d been in the middle of a deposition. "Kennedy, I'm busy," he had said, his tone

rm raging inside me. "I think her family moved away. No one ever knew the real

the same af

as at a charity ball. He stood alone by the French doors, a drink in his hand, exuding an aura of such profound lon

ragedy. I fell f

e refused. I left notes on his car, which he ignored. I once waited for him outside his office in a downpour, just to offer him

that made him so distant. I thought my love

ory party for him, inviting all his colleagues. He showed up, but he stood in the corner, looking uncomfortable. When I we

it around me. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low.

me from the public humiliation, a calculated move to preserve the decorum

riety for a flicker of warmth. I t

ver thawed. He would explain his aversion to touch was a clinical diagnosis. "I

rms couldn't possibly be faking it. His condition was real. I had seen the endle

ed I was the germ h

devotion, my patient waiting, my endless excuses

s the pu

thing that made her laugh, a light, tinkling sound that carried on the w

resolve settl

had t

r scraping against the pavem

ny,

n and fury. I walked blindly, bumping into people, n

us of shouts erupted from above. I looked up to see scaffolding on

pounding, when someone col

familiar, fragi

Annis

g shudder and a large metal pole brok

bed Annis by the arm and shoved her hard, sending

ain exploded in my leg as the pole crashed do

ps. A figure knelt, not beside me, but beside An

as C

terror I had never heard before. He frantically checked her o

pointing a trembling finger at me. "

eyes was instantly replaced by a glacial fury. He strode

was okay. He didn

r morgue. "Why did you push her?

ty. He was asking if I understood

saving the life of his true love, and all he saw was a t

heart finally cracking into a million irreparable pieces. "Corbin,"

. "Corbin, it's not her fault! She saved m

know, I know. But we can't risk you getting hurt." He glanced down at me, his expression one of pure

ority

h sentence to the las

on the dirty concrete. But the physical pain was no

ne, away from me. He paused, pulling out his phone. H

nds of the city, the shouts of concerned on

as Corbin Franco's back as he walked away, leaving me