/0/84985/coverbig.jpg?v=b01581b10ba2499387f76e79d516c7fc)
The heavy glass door of the city clerk' s office swung shut, sealing my fate. Today was supposed to be perfect, our third wedding anniversary, a day to celebrate the love Olivia and I had built. I clutched a small, official envelope, the certified copy of our marriage certificate, a simple gift. But the clerk' s flat voice still echoed in my ears: "There is no marriage certificate on file for an Ethan Miller and an Olivia Reed." My perfect life shattered. Olivia, my wife, the love of my life, was legally married to Alex Thorne, my protégé. The man who had filled in for me, the man she' d once dismissed. Every memory, every whispered promise, every intimate moment we shared, felt like a meticulously crafted lie. My heart pounded, a grotesque drumbeat against a hollow chest. How could this be? How could the woman I loved, the woman who promised me forever, be living a double life? How could I have been so blind? I walked into our apartment, the home I designed as a monument to our love, and heard her voice from the bedroom, low and intimate. "Of course, I miss you, Alex. Ethan doesn't know anything, he' s as clueless as ever. You know I can' t leave him, not yet. He' s too useful, his name still carries weight in this city, but you' re the one I' m married to, you' re the one I truly need." The words struck me like a physical blow, choking the air from my lungs. I wasn' t a husband; I was a prop, a stepping stone in her grand scheme. But the love I felt for her died in that hallway, replaced by something cold and sharp. I wouldn' t give her the satisfaction of a fight. I would disappear. And then, when she was comfortable in her world built on my back, I would return and take everything from her.