On My Wedding Day: From Love to Freedom

On our wedding day, my husband told me he didn't love me.

Three years later, he brought his "first love" and her unborn child to force me out.

The day I signed the divorce papers, I was practically over the moon.

But then my ex-husband regretted it and showed up at my doorstep.

"Sweetheart, I messed up. Can we start over?"

"Sorry, I don't take out the trash!"

1

Three years into our marriage, Peter never once had sex with me.

It all started with what he said to me on the day we got our marriage license.

"Jewel, I'll marry you, but I don't love you."

Still, Peter's mom Claire got antsy when she saw no sign of a baby bump.

In a fit of frustration, she moved our marital home right next to Peter's company.

"Isn't this a bit much?"

I pretended to look troubled, though deep down, I really didn't want to live with Peter.

"Don't worry, this place is in your name. Market value's ten million."

My wealthy mother-in-law, decked out in gold bracelets and rings, patted my shoulder.

"Alright."

I agreed without a second thought.

Come on, who would say no to money these days?

"Also, starting tomorrow, you're working at the company. Monthly salary's a hundred grand. Your job is to keep an eye on Peter, make sure he comes straight home after work. If he won't take the lead, we'll just have to make the first move."

The task she gave me sounded simple, but in reality, it was a nightmare.

On my first day at the company, I spotted Peter's first love, now the mistress.

Julia Lawson.

Suddenly, I remembered our wedding night-Peter turning his back on me, then happily walking off with his arm around her waist.

"Make the first move" was a solid idea, except someone had beaten me to it by a mile.

I opted out.

Instead, I quietly toiled away in the unglamorous logistics department.

But I was not the type to sit still.

Thanks to my social butterfly nature, within an hour, I'd built solid friendships with everyone on the floor.

With the help of countless insiders, I soon learned the company had long known about Peter and Julia's affair.

"Huh, so they're that open about it?"

I munched on sunflower seeds, my curiosity piqued.

"Not just that. Word is, Julia's been living with the boss for ages. People see them coming and going together all the time. She even ties his tie for him."

The phrase "ties his tie" sounded oddly suggestive coming from them.

But I knew the real twist was in Peter and Julia's relationship.

Since that was the case, why not use their little affair to make some pocket money?

I set up an internal gossip chat group.

The name? "When Will the Boss Get Divorced?"

The Claireent it went live, colleagues flooded in without me even needing to invite them-proof of how much the company thrived on gossip!

"I'll bet fifty dollars the boss divorces his wife within three months."

Once the first bet dropped, replies poured in. I sat back in my chair, grinning ear to ear.

Getting rich off this? My clever little brain was onto something.

2

While I was basking in my brilliance, Julia caught wind of me.

Her hand trembled slightly as she held some files, her face paling, though she forced a calm smile my way.

I could tell she was playing it cool, waiting to see what I'd do.

But as the legal wife, I decided to strike first.

"How about a deal?" I said it with a touch of smugness.

"What kind of deal?" She eyed me suspiciously.

Fair enough-she was his first love, but I was his wife, after all.

"A thousand dollars, and I won't spill a word to the Shaw family about your business at Shaw Group. Plus, I'll keep quiet about you and Peter. Transfer money to my bank account if you're in."

Julia stared at me in disbelief, clearly not expecting me to play nice.

"You've got one minute to decide."

No pressure, no deal-urgency made it feel real.

After weighing her options, she took out her phone.

Ding-dong.

A thousand hit my account.

Perfect. Pleasure doing business.

"Ten dollars, and you keep my company stuff under wraps too. Don't tell Peter."

I sent her ten dollars. The next second, she gave me a look like I was an idiot.

Stare all she wants-I didn't care.

I'd just made a tidy profit off her.

That sealed it. I decided to lock in a long-term partnership.

"Here's the pitch: we team up for good. I know you want to be Peter's legal wife. I can help with that, feeding you his every move. Monthly subscription, base rate eight grand."

Julia pursed her lips, then sent me another two thousand.

Money, I love you.

After work, I hit the supermarket, stocking up on junk food and a case of beer. The thought of moving into my new apartment had me buzzing.

But when I was at the entrance, I saw Peter, arms crossed on the couch, clearly waiting for me.

He turned at the sound, his gaze landing on my hands.

He didn't even try to hide his disgust.

I set the shopping bags aside, then plopped down beside him with a fake cheery grin.

"Honey, why'd you get off work so early today?"

Peter glanced at me, subtly scooting away.

Putting some distance between us.

"No groceries?"

I eyed the pile of snacks nearby.

Groceries?

I racked my brain, piecing together a mental menu, and finally landed on something.

"How about fried chicken with potato chips?"

I watched Peter choke on his exasperation, then give up talking to me altogether. He stood and stormed out of the apartment.

Yes! The place was finally all mine.

But the victory was short-lived-Claire's call came through.

I quickly swallowed my chips, chugged some cola, and let out a few dramatic noises before picking up.

"Claire..." I purred softly.

"Did that little punk Peter show up at the apartment?"

Her tone was fierce, and I instantly guessed she'd strong-armed him into making an appearance.

"Claire, he came by for a bit and left. Guess he found me too boring and went off to see..."

I didn't say Julia's name. Better to let her guess and feel extra guilty toward me.

So, I started fake-crying over the phone.

In truth, I'd just bitten into some spicy beef jerky that hit me hard.

Who knew that stuff had such a kick?

3

On the phone, Claire was all in my corner.

"Jewel, don't be sad. That idiot Peter's got lard over his heart. He can't see how good you are. Don't worry, I'm on your side. I'll chew him out till he wakes up!"

Oh, please no.

If he suddenly saw the light and realized how great I was, wouldn't all my hard work go down the drain?

But I couldn't show that.

I played along.

"Mm, Claire, I trust you. I can handle it too..."

Handle turning his mistress into his wife, that is.

Then I'd be free to live my single life again.

She said a few more things before hanging up.

Munching snacks and sipping beer, I enjoyed my little slice of heaven. But I didn't forget the most important task.

Updating the mistress on his whereabouts.

"Peter just left my place. Betting he's headed your way. Prep ahead, he hasn't had dinner yet."

The message barely sent when five hundred dollars landed in my account.

The phone quieted down for a bit, then Claire texted me.

"Sweetie, I've got intel. Tomorrow, Peter's heading to Azure Cove Hotel for a business meeting. Once it's done, Manager Garth will slip something into his drink and send him to Room 520. Wear something sexy and be ready..."

That ellipsis said a lot.

I was grateful I'd built a solid bond with her.

Otherwise, I might've ended up sold out and counting her money like a fool, right?

I mentally gave her a thumbs-up.

Well played.

"Claire, don't worry, I won't let your efforts go to waste!"

Hearing that, she was touched and even had a super-sexy outfit couriered to me as a bonus.

When I saw the fabric, it nearly blinded me.

"Peter's mom sent this. Want it? Three grand for the set."

I forwarded the photo to Julia. Soon enough, three thousand hit my account.

"OK, send me the address. Cash on delivery."

4

Though Claire had retired from Shaw Group, her old-school authority still held sway.

One word from her, and no one dared disobey.

That night, Garth pulled it off, delivering a drunk Peter into my hands.

Before leaving, he shot me a knowing look.

It left me puzzled.

But when I opened the hotel room door, I froze.

Claire was way too modern.

To ensure I'd conceive a Shaw heir, the room had been decked out extravagantly.

Couldn't let her efforts go to waste now, could I?

I tossed Peter onto the bed.

Then, finding the perfect angle, I snapped a photo.

The caption was "The night is young".

Sent.

Julia would get the hint.

Sure enough, ten thousand dollars rolled in.

I'd just pocketed the cash when Peter groggily sat up.

Before I could react, he yanked me into his arms and pinned me down.

"Are you my wife?"

I grinned outwardly, cursing inwardly.

"Nope, your wife's Julia. She'll be here any minute."

I coaxed him like he was a child. He nodded, seeming to buy it.

While he was distracted, I shoved him off.

Hmph, the mistress really had him hooked-her name alone calmed him down.

What a jerk! I must divorce him as soon as possible.

The doorbell rang. I bolted to open it.

Julia eyed my disheveled clothes, confused.

"Don't worry, he mistook me for you. I'm done with him."

A relieved smile spread across her face.

I wiggled my phone at her. "So happy? How about a bonus to share the joy?"

She promptly sent me another ten grand!

I teared up as I left the room.

Looking at my bank balance, I admired my own cunning more and more.

Glancing back at the closed door, I smirked to myself, "Peter, since you're so hung up on your mistress, I'll just make it happen for you.

But I'm not leaving empty-handed, not a single dime less than I deserve."

5

The next morning, my hotel insider told me they hadn't left the room yet.

I checked the time-8:30. Close enough.

So, I called Peter.

"Honey, what're you up to? I made your favorite sandwich and black coffee this morning. Should I bring it to the office?"

My syrupy voice oozed through the phone.

He answered, sounding like he'd just woken up. "No need, I've eaten."

Cold and distant, but I didn't care-breakfast wasn't the point.

"Alright, I'll just eat it myself then."

After hanging up, I called the reporters I'd prepped, giving them the green light.

Enjoy cheating, you jerk!

"Showtime."

I lounged on my apartment's leather sofa, basking in the sun, sipping juice, and watching the live feed from my insider, waiting for the drama to unfold.

The reporters slipped in while room service delivered breakfast.

They rushed inside, snapping pics of the naked, disheveled pair on the bed. Julia yelped and hid in Peter's arms.

Tsk tsk, that flawless smooth skin-no man could resist that temptation.

The video ended with Peter hopping off the bed, covering himself with a pillow, and shooing them out.

That was enough.

This footage would make him let go.

I tidied up, grabbed my bag, and headed to work.

In the gossip group, raw, uncensored photos popped up for all to see.

None of it was news to me, though.

I'd orchestrated it all.

As group admin and social queen, I upped the stakes.

"Five hundred dollars says the boss divorces his wife within thirty days!"

The chat exploded with activity.

An hour later, Julia sent me ten grand out of the blue, saying Claire had told her to leave him. She asked for advice.

I calmly pocketed her consultation fee and told her, "Stay firm. Don't waver."

But I didn't see it coming...

6

Claire called me over to Shaw Mansion for dinner.

When I arrived, Peter was there too.

They were sitting on the sofa, seemingly discussing something.

The moment Peter saw me walk in, he jumped up, eagerly greeting me with a big hug.

He looked every bit the doting husband.

I told Julia not to waver-what did she do?

Did she chicken out?

At the table, Claire dropped a bombshell. She'd transferred five percent of Shaw Group's shares to me.

What?

She also said I shouldn't waste time in a dead-end logistics job anymore.

I was shocked.

"From now on, you'll work in Peter's office as his secretary. That way, you'll have more time together."

Her plan sounded great, but all I wanted was to kick the cheating slime sitting across from me to the curb.

I nodded along in front of her, pretending to love the idea.

The second I turned away, I texted Julia.

"What's going on? Step up-scared now?"

Soon, she replied. "No choice. His mom offered too much."

That vision...

Wasn't being the lady of Shaw Group tempting enough?

I was a little annoyed with Julia.

But then again, with money dangling in front of me, who'd let it slip?

Forgivable. Still, I decided to keep my distance from her for a while and launch a counterattack on Peter.

Per Claire's orders, I became his "personal" secretary.

Under everyone's stunned gazes, I left logistics. They never imagined the girl leading their gossip fest was the boss's wife.

I soothed their wounded souls with cash in the group chat.

"Don't kick me out, guys! Sure, I'm the boss's wife now, but who knows? It might not be long before someone else takes my spot. Let's keep this bet going strong!"

As I spoke, the crowd around me scattered back to their desks.

Then Peter's low voice came from behind. "What're you saying?"

I instantly switched to adoring-wife mode.

"Nothing, nothing..."

He pressed me, but when I didn't budge, he turned to the nearest guy.

The poor worker couldn't withstand the boss's glare and, ignoring my warning look, mumbled, "Betting on when you two divorce..."

Then he bolted with his files.

Peter turned to me.

His lips tightened, clearly upset.

What, was he sulking because Julia hadn't been around lately?

"I'm not divorcing you, Jewel. Never."

He reached for my wrist, but I dodged perfectly.

His hand froze midair, his downcast eyes looking pitiful.

Cheated and still playing the victim?

"Sweetheart, don't be mad. Let me take you to the office."

7

Five days into being Peter's personal secretary, I launched my flawless counter-strategy.

In the office, I sprawled on the leather chair he'd bought me.

Tablet in hand, I binged my favorite drama, snacking and sipping milk tea.

Life was a colorful dream.

If this was corporate life, why not enjoy it?

But amid the bliss, I didn't forget my mission.

I kicked off a lovey-dovey campaign on social media.

First, to trick Claire into thinking her plan was working.

Second, to rile up Julia and throw her off balance, so she'd start stirring trouble with Peter again.

Two birds, one stone, right?

This plan was perfection.

"My husband got me cake and coffee. So yummy. Another day of loving him!"

"My husband took me shopping and bought me an outfit. Fits perfectly and looks amazing..."

"My husband's taking me to a candlelit dinner tonight, and he booked the whole place!"

Within two days, Julia couldn't sit still.

Young blood-too hot-headed.

The next afternoon, Julia showed up at Peter's office, her right hand wrapped in thick gauze, eyes red.

I was lounging on the sofa, munching chips, watching a comedy show.

When she appeared, I raised an eyebrow and sat up.

Peter frowned, then strode over, gently lifting her wrist.

Even with his back to me, I could feel his concern.

My woman's intuition told me if I weren't there, he'd be coddling her on the sofa right now.

But with me as the glaring third wheel, he couldn't.

"What happened to your hand?"

Julia winced, tears streaming down her face.

Damn, those tears came fast.

"Peter, it hurts."

She raised her hand higher, just in case he missed it.

Watching their awkward exchange, I cringed.

"Honey, maybe you should take her to the hospital?"

Peter glanced at me, torn.

"Jewel..."

His eyes were full of hesitation, doubt, and guilt toward me...

"Honey, you're the boss. When an employee's in trouble, you've got to step up, right? Look at her hand-all bandaged up, and she's a mess. You should act like the boss and get her checked out. Work matters, but people matter more, don't you think?"

My flawless, airtight reasoning left him speechless.

"I'll take her to the hospital and be right back, sweetheart."

I nodded, even kindly holding the door for them as they left.

Julia flashed me a small smile as she turned.

That night, I didn't expect Claire to show up at my apartment.

Even less did I expect her to slap Peter across the face.

Peter stared at her, bewildered.

Then she shoved a photo in his face-him helping Julia to the hospital.

Caught red-handed.

"Peter, kneel! Apologize to Jewel!"

A man's pride wasn't meant to bend so easily.

I watched his fists clench at his sides, figuring he'd never kneel.

Maybe he'd storm out or blurt "divorce" in a rage.

But I'd overestimated him.

He just looked at me pitifully, then dropped to his knees with a thud.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done something so out of line."

I was lost at words.

Did he think I was a dump or some saint with endless patience?

Worse, he didn't even leave that night. He showered and crawled into my bed.

Didn't he know I'm a germaphobe?

In the bathroom, I grabbed my phone and called in backup.

"Julia, five minutes. Use your hand pain as an excuse to get Peter out of here. He's in my bed, naked."

I sent her a ten-dollars bonus.

She claimed it instantly.

Julia was fast. I'd barely stepped out of the bathroom when I heard Peter on the phone.

"OK, I'll be right there."

He climbed out of bed, threw on a sweater from the rack, and shrugged it on casually.

"Sorry, Jewel, Julia says her hand's hurting again and she's got a slight fever. I'll check on her and be back soon."

At the door, he paused, hand on the knob.

"Jewel, trust me. There's nothing between us. She keeps calling because she doesn't have many friends in this city."

No friends, my foot.

I didn't buy it for a second.

"No worries, honey. I get it, I totally get it."

I played the understanding wife, watching the scumbag leave.

8

Dragging this out wasn't cutting it.

I decided to speed things up and put my divorce plan into action.

Lately, Peter seemed brainwashed by Claire, popping up around me more often.

And being extra nice.

If he suddenly saw my worth and refused to divorce, I'd be in a mess, wouldn't I?

I met Julia privately.

"Two hundred grand, and I'll make you Peter's wife while securing our divorce."

Julia paid half upfront, promising the rest once the divorce was final.

Fine by me-our last deal was set.

I told her Peter hated being played. "Just tell him I set up that hotel stunt, and he'll divorce me on the spot."

But right after I pitched the plan, she outdid me-she got pregnant.

Two months, sixty days.

My heart finally settled.

After work, I treated myself to a full spa day and a shopping spree.

When I got home and opened the door, there were Julia, Claire, and Peter, all in the living room.

Well, well-this screamed divorce showdown.

But I couldn't let my glee show.

The divorce papers sat on the coffee table.

Besides the five percent of Shaw Group shares from Claire, I got two of Peter's properties, fifty million in cash, and a hundred grand monthly alimony.

I signed my name without hesitation.

Claire turned away, sighing deeply. "Peter, you brought this on yourself. I hope you don't regret it later."

He didn't respond, just said we'd meet at city hall tomorrow morning.

Then he left with Julia.

The next day, seeing Peter's red eyes, I wondered if he was so thrilled about the divorce he couldn't sleep.

I hid my excitement, feigning sadness, but I wouldn't comfort him. What if he changed his mind?

I'd be shooting myself in the foot.

Until... I finally held that divorce certificate.

Stepping out of city hall, the sun felt extra warm today.

Then he blocked my path.

"Sweetheart, I messed up. Can we start over?"