Leaving Husband, Loving First Love

Leaving Husband, Loving First Love

Calista · Completed · 265.1k Words

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Introduction

My husband never wanted to make love to me—
until one night, I walked in and saw him… using his stepsister’s lingerie for his own pleasure.

Chapter 1

In the middle of the night, Harper Mellon got up and found her husband holding his stepsister, their faces so close they were a breath away from a kiss.

Rupert Getty’s eyes were full of affection, his voice unusually gentle. “Erin, this isn’t your fault. The real culprit is Harper. If it weren’t for her, you’d be my wife right now.”

His voice trembled, his anger almost impossible to hold back.

Erin Getty nodded shyly and tugged at his sleeve. “Rupert, I’m sorry we didn’t get to marry, but it’s already come to this. I’m just worried that moving in with my son will make Harper unhappy.”

Rupert’s gaze turned icy. “She doesn’t get to decide that.”

Harper slammed on the lights, and the harsh glare instantly flooded the entire living room.

Rupert shoved Irene away on instinct. Then his face turned cold.

He frowned. “Why are you sneaking around this late at night?”

Harper’s lip twitched. “If I hadn’t walked in, the two of you would’ve been screwing right here.”

“Shut up.” A flash of embarrassment crossed Rupert’s face before he snapped, “Harper, watch your mouth. Irene just arrived at the Getty house. I was only comforting her.”

Harper almost laughed. “Comforting your stepsister by holding her and kissing her?” Her voice shook with anger. “Don’t forget, Rupert—you’re married.”

If she hadn’t interrupted them, who knew what they would have done next?

Rupert’s voice turned icy. “Harper, don’t push your luck. If it weren’t for you, Irene would never have married that abusive bastard. She wouldn’t have suffered at all.”

He yanked up Irene’s sleeve, revealing dark purple bruises all over her skin.

“Irene was beaten black and blue,” he said sharply. “What’s wrong with me comforting her? You came in here with that tone and that look on your face—you're the one going too far.”

Irene jerked her arm back and lowered her voice. “Rupert, don’t be mad at Harper. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have come back.” Then she turned as if to leave. “I’ll take my son, Jared Carter, and go right now.”

Before she could move, Rupert pulled her into his arms, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Ignore that crazy woman.”

Harper’s dignity shattered on the spot. A crazy woman? Was she supposed to stand there, watch Rupert kiss Irene, and still smile in approval?

The tenderness in Rupert’s eyes when he looked at Irene cut Harper to the core.

So he wasn’t heartless after all.

He just didn’t love her.

The pain in her chest sharpened, like an invisible blade twisting deeper and deeper. Ten years. Everything she had given him. Looking back now, it all felt like a joke.

Irene’s eyes brimmed with emotion as she whispered, “You’re the only person I can rely on.”

Harper couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t stay here another second.

Just then, the bedroom door suddenly flew open.

A little boy came charging out and slammed straight into Harper’s stomach.

“Bad woman! Don’t you dare bully my mommy!”

Harper was completely unprepared. She hit the floor hard, pain exploding across her back.

“Jared!” Irene cried as she rushed over and scooped the boy into her arms. “Jared, let Mommy see if you’re hurt!”

Harper sucked in a painful breath. She couldn’t even sit up.

Rupert rushed over too.

For one brief second, Harper thought he was coming to help her. Instead, he looked down at her with naked contempt.

“Harper, how long are you going to keep pretending? A three-year-old knocked you down?”

Her hand, half-raised toward him, froze in midair.

Even a stranger would help someone who had fallen. Rupert, her husband, only stood there accusing her.

Cold spread up from Harper’s feet, climbing fast until her heart turned completely numb.

Rupert turned away and lowered his voice for Irene. “Irene, don’t worry. I’ll have the family doctor come examine him right away.”

Harper finally let out a cold laugh. “I’m the one who got hurt, and you’re worried about him?”

She forced herself to stand, though the sharp pain made her vision blur.

But the pain in her body wasn’t the worst part.

Being ignored by the person closest to you—that was what truly broke you.

“You’re really going to argue with a child?” Rupert said impatiently as he took Jared from Irene’s arms.

“Jared, it’s late. Let’s go back to the room and wait for the doctor.”

Jared naturally wrapped his arms around Rupert’s neck. “I want both of you to stay with me. I want Mommy to tell me a story.”

“Of course,” Irene said with a smile. “Anything you want, we’ll give it to you.”

From every angle, they looked like a perfect family.

The parents were in perfect sync. The child was adored.

Harper stood there alone, watching the bedroom door close.

A bitter, aching smile tugged at her lips.

From beginning to end, not one of them had asked if she was okay. Not once.

So what was she, then? An outsider ruining their perfect little life?

But she was Rupert’s wife.

Harper tilted her head back. Her eyes burned—raw, gritty, painfully dry—as if someone had poured sand beneath her lids. She stood in the living room, swallowing all that pain, while laughter drifted from the bedroom.

All the humiliation she had silently endured over the years came rushing back like a tide, scalding and suffocating. She felt like a joke. A complete, ugly joke.

Harper went back to her room, took two Tylenol, and spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

The next morning, she still went to the office early.

Rupert, as the one in power, barely cared about the business, which left Harper drowning in work that should never have been hers in the first place.

She was rubbing her temples when her phone rang.

It was Rupert’s friend.

“Harper, Rupert’s drunk. Come pick him up at the bar.”

Before she could refuse, the call was already disconnected.

Harper pressed a hand to her forehead. After finishing what she had to do, she drove to the bar.

When she reached the private room Rupert was in, a burst of loud, rowdy laughter spilled through the door.

“Rupert, you lucky bastard! A wife at home and a sexy little stepsister on the side—you’re living every man’s dream. Be honest with us, which one’s hotter in bed?”

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