My Anniversary, His Secret Wife

On my first wedding anniversary, I woke up pregnant and thrilled, waiting for my husband, Carter. But a trending TikTok video shattered my world. It showed Carter celebrating the same anniversary with a famous influencer, Kenley Mendez. He had lied to me for an entire year with a fake marriage certificate while being legally married to her. When I confronted him, he spun a story about Kenley dying of cancer, begging for my sympathy. But his lies quickly turned to violence. During a fight, he struck me so hard that I collapsed, and later that day, I miscarried our baby. To protect his perfect public image, Carter' s company then released a statement branding me as a delusional mistress. The internet exploded with hate, and I became the villain in his tragic love story. I had lost my baby, my husband, and my reputation. The man I had loved and supported for eight years had not only betrayed me but systematically destroyed my life. Lying in that cold hospital bed, with nothing left to lose, I picked up my phone. I turned off the beauty filters, looked straight into the camera, and hit 'Go Live.'

Chapters

Chapter 2

Alicia POV:

The giggle reverberated in my head, a cruel echo that froze me solid. I stared at my phone, numb, then frantically redialed Carter's number. It rang and rang, then went straight to voicemail.

My chest tightened, a crushing weight. My heart hammered, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. A sharp, searing pain shot through my lower abdomen. I gasped, doubling over. No, not now. Not this.

My legs gave out. I crumpled to the floor, my phone clattering beside me. The pain intensified, a relentless tearing sensation. I tried to push myself up, but my body wouldn't obey. Black spots danced before my eyes. All I could think of was my baby. My precious baby.

With a desperate surge of adrenaline, I crawled towards the door, my fingers scrabbling for my keys. I had to get to the hospital. Now.

The next few hours were a blur of blinding pain and frantic voices. I remember being wheeled through bright corridors, the cold efficiency of the emergency room. My fingers still clutched my phone, repeatedly trying Carter' s number, each attempt met with silence. Where was he?

"Alicia? Alicia McClure?" A familiar voice broke through the haze.

I blinked, trying to focus. A kind face, framed by dark hair and gentle eyes, peered down at me. Dr. Benji Davenport. My high school friend. He looked older, more tired, but still had that same reassuring presence.

"Benji?" My voice was a raw whisper.

He squeezed my hand. "It's me. What happened, Alicia? You're in a lot of pain."

I couldn't form the words. The pain was too overwhelming.

He nodded, already understanding. He glanced at my chart, his brow furrowed. "We're doing everything we can. There's a risk of miscarriage, Alicia."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Miscarriage. No. Not my baby.

Tears streamed down my face, silent and hot. Benji handed me a tissue, his touch gentle. He prescribed something for the pain, his voice soft, explaining what was happening.

"Where's... Carter?" he asked, his gaze searching.

I just shook my head, unable to speak. The humiliation burned hotter than the pain.

Benji didn't press. He just squeezed my hand again. "It's okay. We'll take care of you. I'm here."

As I was slowly being discharged, still weak and numb, a car screeched to a halt outside the ER entrance. The door flew open, and Carter rushed out, his face a mask of manufactured concern.

"Alicia! Baby, I'm so sorry! I just got your messages. How's the baby? Is everything okay?" He enveloped me in a tight hug, his breath smelling faintly of cheap perfume.

I stiffened, pushing him away slightly. My gaze fell to his pristine white shirt. A faint, smudged pink stain bloomed on his collar. Lipstick.

My blood turned to ice. Kenley's favorite shade.

"Where were you?" My voice was dangerously low, laced with a venom I didn't know I possessed.

His eyes darted, his face blanching. "I told you, babe. An emergency meeting. So important for the company."

"Oh, an emergency meeting." I laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "Was it with Kenley? Did you have to kiss her to finalize the deal?"

His jaw tightened. "What are you talking about? Are you delirious from the pain? You're not making any sense."

I grabbed his collar, my fingers trembling as they pointed to the pink stain. "This. This is what I'm talking about. And this." I pulled out my phone, Kenley's anniversary video already queued up. I shoved it into his face.

He flinched, his eyes wide. "Who is that? I don't know her. Maybe someone with the same name?"

His words were a pathetic lie. Even as he spoke, Kenley Mendez herself appeared at the hospital entrance, a beaming smile on her face. She held a small, elegantly wrapped cake box. Our eyes met. Her smile morphed into a triumphant smirk.

"Happy anniversary, darling!" she trilled, walking towards us. "I know you said to keep it quiet, but I just had to bring you a little something." She held out the cake box.

Carter' s eyes widened in horror. He snatched the cake box, roughly shoving it back at her. "Kenley! What are you doing here?" His voice was a harsh whisper, laced with barely concealed panic.

Kenley's eyes welled up, her lower lip trembling. She looked like a wounded fawn. "Carter, why are you so mad? It's our special day."

"Your special day?" I stepped forward, my voice rising. "Kenley Mendez, the girl who sent love letters to my boyfriend for years? The one who publicly declared her love for Carter Burks at every school event, even when he was holding my hand?"

Carter spun to face me, his eyes blazing. "Alicia, stop! You're hysterical. You're pregnant, your hormones are-"

My hand connected with his cheek with a resounding smack. The sound cracked through the sterile hospital air. Then, with all the strength I had left, I pulled out my "marriage certificate" from my bag and flung it at him. It fluttered to the ground, landing at his feet.

"This," I screamed, tears finally blurring my vision. "This piece of paper. It's fake, isn't it? Our marriage. It's a lie!"

Continue to next part

The blue glow of my monitor cast harsh shadows across my face as I squinted at the code that had consumed my evening. My eyes burned, and the office around me had long since emptied, leaving only the soft whirring of servers and the occasional squeak of the cleaning staff's cart wheels against the polished floor. Eleven forty-five PM. Another late night at Sterling Dynamics. I rolled my shoulders back, feeling the familiar ache that came from hunching over a keyboard for fourteen hours straight. The proposal for the Morrison account needed to be perfect—Alexander had made that abundantly clear this morning when he'd dropped the files on my desk without so much as a "please" or "thank you." "Just get it done, Emma," he'd said, already walking away. "By tomorrow." Ten years. Ten years I'd been hearing variations of that phrase, always with the unspoken promise that this time—this project—would be the one to finally earn me a permanent position. I'd started believing it less and less with each passing year. A notification popped up on my screen, temporarily diverting my attention from the proposal.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.2

Bound To The Ruthless Wall Street Butcher

8.2

I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling’s hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him. Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur—Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"—and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils. I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past. I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison. We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase. "Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to."

Action Modern Romance

9.6

Caught Between Her Legs and My Love

9.6

Ten years ago, I believed I’d found a miracle. I was the girl who learned to walk again, the wife whose husband gave up everything to stand by her side. Our love was the story I told myself in the dark—until the night of our tenth anniversary, when I opened a door and heard the truth spoken in someone else’s voice. In a heartbeat, my marriage shattered. The devoted man I’d worshipped revealed himself as a stranger—faithless, manipulative, and hiding a secret that rewrote the worst night of my life. The accident that broke my body? It was his sin. My recovery? His penance. Our decade? A lie threaded through with betrayal. Now I’m done being the miracle he performed for an audience. This is the story of the hours that followed: the humiliation I refused to swallow, the evidence I gathered, the fury that steadied my hands, and the cold, clear choice to walk away with my head high. It’s about what happens when a woman stops asking to be chosen and chooses herself instead. I am Emma. I am not his redemption arc. And tonight, the lies end with me.

Modern Mystery Romance

8.4

Heart's Silent War

8.4

Elena runs a small bookstore and lives a quiet life after losing someone she loved. One night, her shop is broken into, but nothing is stolen. A detective named Marcello comes to investigate. He carries his own pain, and Elena feels he understands her. As they search for answers, danger grows. Elena must face her fear, find her strength again, and decide if she can accept love.

Modern Mystery Romance

8.5

Her Heartbeat in His Chest

8.5

It was the fifth anniversary of my death, coinciding with the day Estrella Cole, Skyler Thomas's childhood friend, had her leukemia relapse. He finally remembered me because I was the only compatible bone marrow donor. "Izabella Bryant, you have one day to get to the hospital and donate your bone marrow." "Don't forget, this is what you owe Estrella!" "If you're late and something happens to her, don't blame me for cutting off your mother's medical funds." On the other end of the line, my mother, her hair as white as snow, listened quietly. After a long pause, she finally replied: "Izabella passed away five years ago, on the very day she donated her heart to you." Five years later, Skyler Thomas walked into my mother's hospital room again. She lay on the bed, pain etched across her face, and struggled to ask, "Skyler, why can't you just leave us in peace?" Skyler looked down at her with contempt. "Leave you in peace? Izabella did this to Estrella. How could I just let it go?" "I told you, as soon as Izabella donates bone marrow to Estrella, we can move on." "Is Izabella really so selfish, willing to watch Estrella suffer?" My mother's eyes widened, her voice hoarse and pained: "I've already told you over the phone!" "Izabella passed away! Five years ago!" Skyler frowned and slapped my mother across the face. "Enough!

Modern Mystery Romance

8.0

His Unwanted Wife: The Genius Artist Returns

8.0

On our fifth anniversary, my husband slid a black velvet box across the table. Inside wasn't a diamond ring, but a fountain pen. "Sign the separation papers, Aurora," Ethan said. "Ilene is spiraling again. She needs to see we are over." I was the wife of the Mafia Underboss, yet I was being discarded for the Family Ward. Before I could answer, Ilene stormed into the restaurant. She shrieked that I was still wearing his ring and threw a bowl of boiling lobster bisque directly at my chest. As my skin blistered and peeled, Ethan didn't rush to me. He hugged her. "It's okay," he soothed the woman who had just assaulted me. "I've got you." The betrayal didn't stop there. When Ilene pushed me down the stairs days later, Ethan erased the security footage to protect her from the police. When I was kidnapped by his enemies, I called his emergency line—the one meant for life-or-death situations. He declined the call. He was too busy holding Ilene's hand to save his wife. That was the moment the chain broke. As the kidnapper's van sped onto the highway, I didn't wait for a rescue that would never come. I opened the door and jumped into the dark. Everyone thought Aurora Bruce died on that pavement. Two years later, Ethan stood outside a gallery in Paris, looking at the woman he had destroyed, finally realizing he had protected the wrong one.

Action Modern Romance

My Anniversary, His Secret Wife

Chapter 2

You may also like