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My Husband’s Mistress Wore My Bracelet with Pride Novel Cover

My Husband’s Mistress Wore My Bracelet with Pride

Believing her husband Julian's lavish gift of an overseas trip is a sign of his devotion, a wife's world shatters when an explicit text exposes his true agenda. He plans to move his mistress into their home the second she leaves. Devastated by this cruel betrayal, she secretly secures a five-year consulate transfer abroad. As she prepares to slip away forever, she must navigate the painful fallout of his deception and reclaim her freedom.
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Chapter 1

“My wife will be away for six months. Plan to move in three days.”

I trembled as I scrolled through my husband Julian’s phone, my heart aching as I read a message he’d sent to another woman: “Remember, keep this quiet. Bring the ‘extra’ toys I bought; I need to blow off some steam.”

When I found out I’d be spending six months abroad for an academic conference, my husband Julian spared no effort to make my stay as comfortable as possible. He hired a personal nutritionist to accompany me and bought a spacious apartment in the city, ensuring that every detail of my life overseas was taken care of.

Despite his other commitments, he paused and, with a touch of hesitation in his voice, said, “Honey, I’m going to miss you so much. Being apart from you is going to make it hard to eat or sleep.”

I forced a tired smile and suggested he freshen up before dinner.

Just as I turned away, his intimate text messages began popping up on my screen—one that was clearly not meant for me.

Shaking, I wiped away my tears and sent an email to my boss, requesting a transfer to the consulate.

His response came swiftly, full of surprise:

“The consulate contract is five years, and I’m sure Julian would be upset to see you leave. Please think this through carefully.”

....

I was about to reply when Julian came bounding out, his face etched with panic, tentatively asking, “Darling, did you just happen to receive…?”

His expression said it all; he realized he had sent the message to the wrong person.

I closed my phone and pretended not to understand. “What was that?” I asked.

He gave me one last suspicious look, then visibly relaxed, and with a forced smile, said, “Nothing, I just thought you were engrossed in your phone. Let’s eat.”

Instead of joining me at the table, he stayed in the living room for quite a while. I watched as he surreptitiously unlocked my phone, his face tense as he fussed with it. Approaching, I realized he was frantically trying to delete the message he'd sent earlier. As I came closer, he quickly explained, “I haven't updated my phone wallpaper in ages. I wanted some photos from your phone."

His voice was steady, but his hands shook slightly. Just moments ago, he was full of sweet promises about flying to the Alps to see me, playing the role of the perfect husband that duped everyone. Yet as soon as my back was turned, he messaged his lover. If I hadn't seen him type it, I wouldn’t have believed him capable of such deceit. His desperate attempt to erase the evidence only confirmed his betrayal.

My heart felt shattered, suffocated, as I stared blankly at the image on his phone. It was from when we were dating, meant as a promise to show everyone his commitment to me. He proudly introduced me as his wife to every client and colleague who asked about the picture. I held back my tears and coldly said, “I see, let’s eat first.”

Realizing I hadn’t caught those messages, he returned to his usual cheerful self, flipping through the photos. “Which one do you like, honey? I’ll set it as the wallpaper.”

He swiped through, each picture a memory of our life together.

Suddenly, an inappropriate screenshot appeared. It was a receipt for condoms and other intimate items. Julian and I had been trying for a baby for a year; we didn’t need these. I couldn’t believe that the usually gentle Julian would find such things appealing with another woman.

A sharp, searing pain gripped my heart. My fingers clenched into my palm as my vision cleared, finally making out the delivery address. It was Rowena Cox, my junior colleague.

I recalled asking Julian why he took so many pictures of me. With a smile, he had said he wanted to capture every moment of my joy and happiness to cherish as we grew old. Now, amidst what was once love, something unforgivable had crept in.

Julian noticed my gaze fixed on the phone and hurriedly glanced at it. Seeing the incriminating screenshot, his smile froze, and he quickly deleted it. “That was a mistake. You know I’m not like that.”

But his face betrayed a flicker of guilt. I laughed bitterly, turned away, and said coldly, “Yes, I know you’re not like that.”

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