The Contractual Wife's Silent Comeback

ndure after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced

n her lip, she tearfully accused me of being a

g, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he ordered a gu

nothing. Say nothing," he comm

lobby of my own wellness retreat, a pub

ood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall.

camera I' d planted in the baby's room. And they had no idea that

pte

Walla

g him a new life with a woman whose lies were as polished as her social media feed. Now, he stood before me, openly kissing her, while I, his le

ready for our esteemed guests," I

His arm was wrapped around Jada Floyd's waist. She was a social medi

y of my postpartum wellness retreat. "This place better li

" Jake replied, a dismissive wave of his hand. It was a knife twist I had gro

? Elliot asked about you. I saw Jake reaching for the pen on the counter. My hand ins

then shrugged. He signed the document I slid across the polished mahogany counter. The contract, I' d

ng away his claim to me. He

st authorizing Jada's luxury. He was unknowingly signing his own ex

inkling. He pulled Jada closer. "Make sure Jada has everything she needs. Org

a kiss to his jaw. "Y

oded my insides. I offered them a tight, professional smile, picking up the signed pap

Jake's. It was a fleeting touch, barely there, but

ntorted with disgust. "Don't touch me,"

counter. A sharp crack echoed in the silent lobby. Pain exploded, radiating up

kles had gone white. But his eye

scrubbed furiously at the spot where my hand had touched his, as if my skin

red joke. A photo left "accidentally" on his desk. Each time, his amnesia-fueled rage would erupt. The punishments were swift and brutal. Once, I had dared to hum our college song. His fist had connected with my temple, leaving m

self to stand tall. "Of course, Mr. Foster," I man

nded, his voice returning to its u

ut I straightened my shoulders and turned. My face must have been ghostly pale, because even Jake, in his self-absorbed b

I can't wait to see the room! I need to do a live

ake remarked, his eyes narrowed. "No snide remarks

sional, Mr. Foster. And my past

Since when did you get so formal, little dove?" His voice was laced

he couldn't remember, a past he'd erased. I pushed the memory down,

wards the suite, d

know what? My fans love seeing me pampered. Come f

han the pain in my wrist. I glanced at Jake, a desperate plea

. "Consider it part of your 'dut

Not now. Not when freedom was so close. I walked back, my head bowed, and knelt by the

Audrey," he said, his voice dangerously low, "your obedience is

ribs. "I am merely fulfilli

gations, how about this? Record it. Record your little performance. And send it to me. I'll need s

bing the luxurious robe she was pulling from a box. Jake leaned back on

d. I tapped the record button, the red light a tiny, mocking eye. The camera

mind numb. The sounds of their forced intimacy, her coos, his low m

"That was amazing, Jakey!" she cried, throwi

t passionate fire you used to have... it's gone, isn't it? Doused by your own pathetic ambition." His words were a whip, cracking across my r

miliation, the years of silent suffering-it all converged into a single, explosive burst

ly missing his head, and shatte

only to be manipulated by a parasite who cares more about her follower count than her own child's well-being! And me? I stood by y

d dawning fury. His jaw clenched. He was about to expl

so impassive, contorted in a strange, pained exp

ice hoarse, laced with confusion. "