My Husband’s Second Wedding

Five years into my marriage, I received a wedding invitation from California.

The groom was my husband, Caspian Blackwood.

The bride was my own sister, Genevieve Valerius.

In disbelief, I flew to Napa Valley to see it for myself. But when I saw Caspian holding Genevieve in a passionate embrace, my world shattered.

Grand fireworks erupted in the night sky, spelling out a message—"Congratulations to Mr. Blackwood and Miss Valerius on their wedding."

In that moment, I felt an invisible blade pierce my chest. Watching them bask in the adoration of the crowd, I felt like a shameful interloper.

Love is a world built for two; a third person is always an intruder.

Rather than wait for him to discard me, I chose to leave on my own terms, preserving the last shred of my dignity.

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1

I hid on a terrace at the wedding venue, my heart pounding in my throat as footsteps approached.

"Congratulations, Blackwood. One wife at home and another on your arm. Some guys have all the luck," a business partner joked.

My heart clenched, the pain so sharp it was hard to breathe.

Then, I heard Caspian Blackwood's soft chuckle. "Don't be like that. Genevieve was there for me after the accident. That’s why I’m marrying her. She really loves me—she was willing to give up everything."

"But Scarlett will always be the one I love. Don't you dare tell her about this—ever."

His voice was gentle yet firm, each word a sharp blade carving fresh wounds into my heart.

He used to bring me my favorite Blue Mountain coffee every morning. On my birthdays, he would book an entire observatory just to watch a meteor shower with me, whispering how much he loved me under the stars.

Then, the crash happened. A horrific private jet crash damaged his nerves and changed everything.

As the ruthless CEO of a major tech company, he couldn't accept the possibility of being permanently paralyzed. Overnight, his personality became volatile and desperate. He started pushing me away, trying to force a divorce.

"Scarlett, I'm a broken man now. If you stay, you'll only be dragged down with me. Someone like me deserves to rot alone."

He threw a signed divorce agreement in front of me, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse with pain.

"Sign it. We're over. Go live the life you were meant to have."

But how could I leave him when he needed me most?

I squeezed his hand and told him firmly, "I'm not going anywhere, Caspian. Never. Don't you dare say that. I'm staying with you."

But it was as if he couldn't hear me, sinking deeper into a mire of despair. Sometimes, he would lose control and roar at me.

"Scarlett! What are you waiting for? Just sign the damn papers! What future is there for you, tied to a burden like me? Leave me, I'm begging you. If you leave, I'll have no reason left to live..."

I never signed the agreement. No matter how hard he pushed, I stayed by his side.

To help him walk again, I moved to Switzerland. For two years, I practically lived in the labs of a top research institute, developing a cutting-edge neurological treatment just for him.

I wore the diamond pendant he'd given me every single day, never taking it off. Caspian had hidden a micro-recorder inside it so he could hear my voice whenever he wanted.

This connection across continents was the only comfort that kept me going. And by some miracle, he finally recovered.

But now, here I was, watching him marry Genevieve Valerius. Listening to him speak of his "responsibility" to her.

So, this is what he was doing while I was gone.

While I was away, Genevieve had taken advantage of my absence.

Knowing full well that Caspian was my husband, she had shamelessly thrown herself at him.

And Caspian... even though he claimed to love me, he had still betrayed me. He'd even ordered everyone to keep it a secret.

The thought made my heart seize in a painful spasm.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to choke back a sob.

I don't remember how I left that place. All I know is that by the time I stumbled back into our penthouse, my face was streaked with tears.

I sat at the desk, staring at the divorce agreement Caspian had signed all that time ago.

I had wanted to tear it to shreds countless times, a reminder that we would never be apart.

But now, I picked up a pen and, without hesitation, signed my name.

The divorce was final.

A single teardrop fell onto the paper, smudging the ink and blurring my world.

I knew, in that moment, I had lost Caspian forever. The love we once shared had burned to ash.