"Thank you so much," Rosalie said as she collected the bag of medicine from the pharmacist, who gave her a brief nod and a slight smile. She could have easily sent the driver, but she didn't want to take any risks—what if he brought back the wrong prescription?
She glanced down at the bag. The medicine belonged to her husband, William. He had been in a wheelchair for two years now after a terrible accident. As his wife, it was her responsibility to take care of him.
With a sigh, she hurried back to the car and instructed the driver to take her home
She had left William alone with Stephanie—her best friend who'd come visiting after a long time—because she was worried something might happen to him while she was gone.
William despised it when the servants touched him.
As soon as they arrived, Rosalie rushed inside, eager to give him his medicine. But when she stepped into the living room where she had left them earlier, she froze.
They weren't there.
A frown creased her forehead.
'Where could they have gone?' She wondered.
Thinking Stephanie might have taken William outside for some fresh air, she quickly checked the garden, but it was empty.
A strange, unsettling feeling curled in her stomach, making her feel uneasy.
She spotted one of the house servants walking by and quickly stopped her. "Where's my husband and Stephanie?"
The servant lowered her head, avoiding eye contact. "They're in the room."
Rosalie's frown deepened as something made her stomach twist uncomfortably. It was as if the servant had more to say but couldn't bring herself to say it.
Dread pooled in Rosalie's chest, but she forced herself to push it aside.
'What could William and Stephanie possibly be doing in the room together?' She wondered.
She excused the servant and walked toward her bedroom, her heart hammering with every step. Her grip tightened unconsciously around the bag in her hand.
As she neared the door, she heard faint noises coming from inside.
Her breath hitched.
She quickened her steps, panic clawing at her insides.
'No. No. There was no way.'
Taking a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and her world instantly shattered into pieces.
On her bed—her matrimonial bed—Stephanie was on top of William, moaning uncontrollably. William's hands gripped her waist, guiding her movements as he groaned in pleasure.
They were so lost in their own world that they didn't even notice Rosalie standing there.
For a moment, Rosalie couldn't breathe.
The bag of medicine slipped from her trembling hands, landing on the floor with a dull thud.
That was when they finally noticed her.
Stephanie gasped and scrambled to get off William's body, but he held her still, stopping her from moving.
"William," Rosalie choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.
William's head snapped toward her, his expression darkening with irritation. "Don't you know how to knock?" he snapped. "It seems you've forgotten your manners."
Rosalie could only stare in disbelief.
Without another word, William pulled Stephanie back down and resumed thrusting into her.
Rosalie felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.
Her vision blurred as pure rage and devastation coursed through her veins. Unable to stand the sight any longer, she stormed toward them and yanked Stephanie away from William.
"How dare you?!" she screamed, her voice breaking as she slapped Stephanie hard across the face. "I trusted you!"
Before she could say anything else, pain exploded across her cheek.
A sharp sting.
A coppery taste filled her mouth as blood dripped from her lips, but she paid no attention to it.
William had just slapped her.
Her own husband.
Her head snapped to the side, her cheek burning from the impact.
She turned back to him, eyes wide with disbelief. "William…?"
His gaze was cold, filled with nothing but contempt. "How dare you barge in here and interrupt my time with Stephanie?" he growled.
Rosalie couldn't recognize the man standing before her.
Standing.
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down at William's legs.
He was standing.
Her eyes darted to the wheelchair beside the bed, untouched.
Two years ago, William had been in an accident—one that had supposedly completely paralyzed his legs. That day, he had been on his way to file for their divorce.
All because she had miscarried their third child.
The doctor had warned against any sexual activity for a few months, but William hadn't cared. To him, she was a useless woman—one who couldn't carry a pregnancy to term.
He'd always pampered her when he'd been courting her, kissing the ground she walked on and worshipped her like a goddess. Him and his entire family, including her fans she'd left behind for him all for this?
Coming from a reputable family, he needed an heir, and she had failed to give him one, and then all the pampering stopped.
However, on the very day he planned to finalize their divorce, fate had intervened.
His accident had changed everything, and for two years, she'd devoted herself to taking care of him.
For this?
Her throat tightened.
"When did you start walking?" Rosalie whispered, her voice barely audible.
William's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Why do you sound so surprised?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Oh wait… You were too busy being a fool to realize you were being used."
A cold chill ran down Rosalie's spine.
"I regained my ability to walk six months after the accident," he continued, his tone devoid of remorse. "But I decided to keep it a secret. I wanted you to keep serving me, waiting on me hand and foot—until I found someone better."
His gaze flickered to Stephanie, filled with admiration.
Stephanie blushed.
Rosalie's stomach twisted violently.
Tears welled in her eyes. "You… you lied to me all this time?"
William let out a sharp breath, clearly growing impatient. "Let's not drag this out. I love Stephanie. And now that you know the truth, I don't see any point in keeping this marriage going."
Rosalie's heart pounded. "What are you saying?"
William's next words shattered whatever was left of her soul.
"Let's finish what we started two years ago," he said coldly. "Let's get a divorce."