I'M JUST HIS WIFE

Chapter 1

Rigella's POV

I put a hand over my mouth to contain my tears. I had just witnessed my husband enjoying a romantic lunch with his mistress at a posh eatery. Their table was right in front of the glass wall, so I could clearly see how sweet they were to each other—without a doubt. He doesn’t even like dining at places like that—unlike me.

I wiped my tears away and looked away before entering the restaurant. This was where my closest friend, Roxanne, and I had planned to have lunch. She promised to meet me since she missed me terribly—it had been over a week since we last saw each other.

I entered carefully, covering my long hair. I smiled when I saw Roxanne already seated at our usual table. I had missed her—terribly. She was more than just a friend; she was like a sister to me. When she saw me, she stood up with a warm smile. I hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek.

As soon as we sat down, she called the waiter and placed our lunch order. Then, she arched an eyebrow, looked at me, and asked, “How are you, best friend?”

I instinctively hid my right arm as she kept staring at it. I had failed to cover it properly. Ivan had gotten upset with me the last time he came home drunk.

Roxanne scowled and got out of her chair. She came over and gently took my hand off my arm. When she saw the bruise, she bit her lip tightly and gave me a serious look.

She stopped and asked angrily, “What’s this? What did he do to you?”

I quickly pulled my arm back and bowed my head. I looked up at her and forced a smile as I came up with an excuse.

“It’s not that bad, Roxy. I slipped in the kitchen yesterday and hit my arm on the table.”

She interrupted me before I could continue and sat back down, still giving me that serious look. My palms were already sweating with anxiety. I knew what could happen to Ivan if Roxanne found out the truth.

I turned to face her and tried to change the mood. I smiled and scooted my seat closer.

“Roxanne, I’m telling the truth. I’ve never lied to you, right? Trust me.”

Her brows arched. “Are you sure?”

Just then, the waiter approached with our food.

“Yup,” I replied quickly. “Oh, the food’s here! I’m really hungry.”

We started eating as soon as Roxanne’s orders arrived. We chatted while eating, and we even talked about my son, Ice. It hurt me that I had left him out of today’s plans. He was in first grade and had school.

After we finished our meal, Roxanne ordered dessert and even got takeout for Ice. I excused myself to use the restroom—I’d been holding it in for a while. As I left, Roxanne was speaking to someone on her phone.

But to my surprise, as I stepped out of the comfort room, someone suddenly dragged me back inside. My eyes widened when I saw who it was—Ivan.

He slammed the door shut behind us. My heart dropped.

“Ivan, you're hurting me!” I cried, his grip on my arm growing tighter. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“I don’t care! Maybe you followed me here!” he spat. “I told you before—you’re just my wife on paper. You have no right to watch all my movements!”

My sobs turned into broken breaths. I couldn’t breathe properly from crying.

“It’s just a coincidence. This is also where Roxanne and I were supposed to meet...”

Before I could say more, he slapped me hard. My back hit the cement wall. I sank to the ground, covering my mouth to stifle my sobs.

“Remember this, Rigella—I’ll hurt you again if Lara ever sees you. Now, get out!”

I quickly stood up and ran out of the comfort room. As I approached Roxanne, I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket to wipe my tears. Her expression changed to a deep scowl when she saw me.

“Ella—” she began, but I cut her off, grabbing my bag with trembling hands.

“Let’s get out of here, Roxy. Please, let’s go.”

She asked, alarmed, “What happened?” But I didn’t answer.

We took the other exit, avoiding the chance of running into Lara or Ivan. I couldn’t stop questioning myself. Was it still right? Was it still proper for me to cling to a marriage that had no hope?

---

We were now in Roxanne’s car, still parked. It was getting late, but we weren’t going anywhere. I was still crying, still shaken, and not ready to talk. But the pain was unbearable.

Ivan was right—I was merely his wife on paper. But why? Why did he continue to treat me this way even after seven years? Had he come to hate me so much that he now hurt me physically?

Maybe I was to blame.

We got married too young—me at eighteen, him at nineteen—just because I told his parents he got me pregnant. At that time, he was in love with Lara... the woman he still loved.

It was painful—unbearably painful.

Roxanne broke the silence. “Rigella, we’re not leaving until you tell me what happened.” She only used my full name when she was serious.

I wiped my tears and looked at her. I knew she was right. My parents were in the U.S., and my older brother didn’t care. Roxanne was the only one I had.

I sniffled before I began. “Ivan was there earlier... at the restaurant. He dragged me into the restroom... then he hit me. He told me not to go near his girlfriend, Lara.”

As I finished, she slammed her hands against the steering wheel, blinking back tears. I saw the sympathy—and the rage—in her eyes.

“Is that why your cheek was red?” she asked, voice trembling.

I nodded silently, tears flowing again. She hugged me and gently stroked my back and hair. I cried harder from the comfort she gave me.

At least I had one person left. I didn’t know what I would do without Roxanne. I might’ve ended my life already... if not for Ice.

My son.

He wouldn’t let me go. I wanted him to still have his mother. I had thought about ending it all, many times, but I couldn’t—not while he needed me. I imagined him crying, confused, because I was gone.

He was my strength. Roxanne and my parents were my strength, too. They gave me a reason to keep going, to survive everything Ivan did to me.

“He’s not worth your precious tears,” Roxanne said gently. Her voice was calm and soothing. “Please stop crying.”

After we calmed down, I invited Roxanne to visit my condo. She insisted that I stay at her place for now. I didn’t want to see Ivan either—not in my condition.

Everything was just too much.

---

I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t. I still loved Ivan. But I had every right to leave him.

What stopped me was Ice. I didn’t want him to grow up without a complete family. I had experienced that pain myself when my parents split up because of my mother’s gender identity. Thankfully, they reconciled by the time I was in senior high.

I wanted Ice to grow up with both parents—even if it meant I had to carry the pain.

When we got to Roxanne’s condo, I called Ice’s nanny using the landline. I couldn’t help but worry about him.

After a few rings, she answered.

“Hello?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s me, Rigella.”

“Rigella, where were you?” she said, sighing. “It’s already late. Ice has been looking for you. We’re worried.”

“I’m at Roxanne’s condo for now. I’m... I’m not going home tonight.”

There was a pause. She knew what that meant.

“Daughter, maybe you should come home. Ivan is already back, and he’s very angry that you didn’t pick up Ice. He picked your son up himself.”

“But Nanny, I already told you—I’m not going home tonight,” I said, crying again.

She sighed audibly. “Then come home tomorrow, okay? Ice won’t go to school if he doesn’t see you. But... if you need to stay, that’s fine.”

I smiled weakly. “Yes, Nanny. I’ll be home early tomorrow. Please tell Ice I love him... and read him a bedtime story.”

“All right, daughter. I’ll take care of it and prepare dinner for them.”

“Thank you, Nanny. Good night.”

---

After the call, Roxanne asked me to help her cook dinner. We ate together, and when she joked that crying made me hungry, I genuinely laughed. It felt good, even for a moment.

After dinner, we settled in the living room and watched a romance film—just like old times. But soon, we heard a knock at the door.

It wasn’t just a knock—it was loud, forceful, like someone was trying to break in.

Roxanne stood up to check. I felt anxious, a cold shiver running down my spine.

She returned quickly, her face uneasy.

She didn’t have to say anything, but she did.

She groaned, “It’s... It’s Ivan. He’s outside.”

My heart began to pound.