The Wife's Hidden Identity

The Wife's Hidden Identity

Lisa · Ongoing · 235.8k Words

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Introduction

On the fourth anniversary of our engagement.
I had prepared a surprise for my husband, waiting for him. He said he was too busy with work to come.
But then I saw him set off fireworks that lit up half the city—for another girl.
The fireworks spelled out: “Welcome home, little fairy.”
So it turned out he did know how to be romantic—just not with me.
My husband couldn't care less about how I felt. This marriage was already hollow, existing in name only.
That day, I finally made up my mind...

Chapter 1

On the day of our fourth engagement anniversary.

While I was preparing a surprise and waiting for my husband Nathaniel Rivers.

He said he was busy with a project.

But I saw him preparing fireworks for another woman—enough to light up half the city.

The fireworks spelled out in the sky: Welcome Home Ruby Rivers.

Turns out he wasn't clueless about romance.

He just saved it for another woman.

Besides this gift, there was also a brooch that belonged to my mother, which I had begged him to help me bid on.

He gave it to Ruby too.

But she just casually tossed it in the trash.

——

To find that brooch thrown near the garbage in the video, I searched through every trash can in the entire area, but still couldn't find it.

I came home filthy and reeking, and the maid Octavia was startled when she saw me.

"Mrs. Rivers, what happened to you?"

My face was pale, and my stomach cramped with dull pain.

I didn't have the energy to deal with Octavia, so I just managed to ask, "Octavia, where's Nathaniel?"

"Mrs. Rivers, Mr. Rivers hasn't come back yet. Are you sick? I'll take you to the hospital right away."

Octavia moved to help me.

I refused her kindness and forced myself to walk upstairs. "I'm fine, I just need to rest."

Of course Nathaniel hadn't come back.

Because my phone received another video from an unknown number, showing him carefully supporting a woman's slender waist.

Though his face wasn't shown in this video.

But the cufflink showing at his wrist—I had it specially made for him.

One of a kind.

From the video, I could see how carefully he was protecting that woman.

I couldn't help thinking of a time when I was going down the stairs at The Rivers Manor. The floor was slippery, and I fell hard on my knees, even twisting my back.

He had looked over anxiously then, but only said, "How can you be so careless? Go lie down in bed, I'll call the family doctor."

Never this attentive though.

I pulled myself back and went to the bathroom, enduring the pain.

If it weren't for the pregnancy, and being in the dangerous first three months, I probably would have soaked until my skin was swollen, just to wash off that garbage smell.

For the baby in my belly, I went to sleep without waiting for Nathaniel to come home.

I slept straight through to the next day.

When I woke up, I heard water running in the bathroom.

Nathaniel was a clean freak—he always showered before getting into bed.

And since I got pregnant, my constitution had weakened and I woke easily.

He must have been out all night and just got home.

I had just sat up.

When Nathaniel came out of the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist.

Water droplets slid down his neck.

Gliding over his abs, very tempting.

I've liked Nathaniel for four years.

A big part of it was probably because he was good-looking with a great body.

Sensing my gaze, Nathaniel's lips curved slightly as he walked toward me, his eyes falling on my exposed skin.

My skin was naturally smooth and delicate, and because I'd soaked in the bath for so long last night, it had a faint pink glow.

Looking even more tender and inviting.

I watched his eyes darken, his breathing becoming irregular and heavy.

After sharing a bed for four years, I knew too well—he was aroused.

His hand slid across my skin, his lips at my ear, taking my earlobe.

Four years of marriage, Nathaniel knew my body better than I did.

He knew my earlobes were sensitive, and he knew I had no resistance to him.

Everywhere his fingers touched, my body trembled uncontrollably.

"So fragrant, Seraphina, you're even sweeter today than yesterday."

His lips moved lower.

My stomach twinged with pain.

My mind cleared.

"Don't!"

I stopped him.

Nathaniel had always been the active one in sex, and he didn't stop at my words.

I couldn't help but lightly bite his wandering hand, protesting again, "Do you know what day yesterday was?"

Nathaniel's kissing paused. He thought for a moment, probably just remembering.

"Sorry, I was working overtime yesterday. Too busy and forgot. Let me make it up to you now."

He started kissing me randomly all over.

I held his hand down, my eyes focused and persistent. "Wasn't there an auction yesterday? And that brooch you promised to bid on for me—did you forget that too?"

I saw Nathaniel's expression stiffen for a moment.

But he quickly recovered. "I was bidding on something for a client, that counts as overtime. The brooch wasn't worth much anyway. I'll bid on a more expensive complete jewelry set as compensation."

He seemed to have forgotten that for me, the brooch's importance wasn't its price, but that it was my mother's keepsake.

I shook my head. "I don't want something expensive. I just want that one."

"Be good, don't let such a small thing affect our lovemaking right now, okay?"

Nathaniel moved to kiss me again.

The baby.

Four years of trying to conceive.

I'd finally gotten my wish and was pregnant.

But now, I hesitated.

I decided not to tell him right away.

Maybe it was because of the lingering hurt from that brooch, or maybe because after searching for it last night, my stomach felt uncomfortable and I worried I might lose the baby, ending up with false hope.

So I kept the pregnancy to myself for now.

I put my hand up to block his lips. His kiss landed on my palm. For the first time, I firmly refused his sexual advances.

Nathaniel pulled back, somewhat angry.

"Really being difficult now. Fine, consider it compensation for forgetting our anniversary." Nathaniel left the house after saying this.

A mocking smile played at my lips.

I just didn't know how Nathaniel would find that brooch that had been thrown in the trash and couldn't be found.

Or maybe he'd come clean.

That he'd given it to another woman.

A woman he might truly care about.

That would be honest.

Maybe my marriage had reached its end.

After eating breakfast downstairs, I felt sleepy because of the pregnancy, so I took another nap.

When I woke up, I faintly heard an unfamiliar female voice, seemingly talking to Octavia in the kitchen, her tone cheerful and carefree.

At the dining table nearby, Nathaniel held a newspaper, but his eyes kept drifting toward the kitchen, his lips curved upward.

He seemed to be in a good mood.

In our four years of marriage, he was usually reserved, not easily showing emotion.

People said he was quiet and cold.

In these four years, I'd hardly ever seen him smile like this.

Who was talking to Octavia in the kitchen that could so easily affect Nathaniel's mood?

I came downstairs in my slippers.

Just then I heard a woman's teasing voice from the kitchen, "Octavia, you haven't heard, right? Last night there was a woman, hair all messy, who went through every trash can in the entire area. If you didn't know better, you'd think she was looking for gold!"

I stopped in my tracks.

My face went pale.

How did this woman know?

Did that mean many people knew about someone going through trash cans yesterday?

Did they know it was me?

Octavia's laughter stopped abruptly at these words. Instead she said, "She was probably looking for something important. Ms. Rivers, if it were you and you lost something important, wouldn't you do the same?"

Last night when I was filthy and smelly, Octavia probably guessed it was me, right?

Did Nathaniel know?

The Ms. Rivers that Octavia called was Ruby, the adopted daughter of the Rivers family, also the daughter of the Rivers family's driver. I heard this driver had died in a car accident while working for the Rivers family.

Ruby was the first to spot me.

She cheerfully came to my side and shoved something into my hand, lowering her voice to whisper in my ear, "Seraphina, just a brooch. Since you like it, you can have it. I was going to play with it and throw it in the trash anyway."

She emphasized the words "trash" heavily.

I knew she was doing it on purpose.

Because I had clearly seen the brooch being thrown away.

Yet now it appeared intact in my hand.

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