My Husband Has A Lover

Neal didn't like me, yet he still married me.

It was merely to get back at his ex-girlfriend who had left him to pursue her ballet career.

When he was with me, he never bothered to hide his impatience.

In the early days of our marriage, I tried to make him fall for me, but all my efforts were in vain when his ex-girlfriend returned to the country.

Seeing him so happy, I packed my bags, ready to leave without being noticed.

But the next day, he was blocking the entrance to my apartment.

"Leanna, it was you who approached me first. Now you want to just walk away? What do you take me for?"

1

Neal's girlfriend broke up with him.

The reason was simple. His girlfriend, Nancy Palmer, was heading abroad to pursue her ballet career.

And it was the moment before boarding her flight that she sent Neal a text to inform him of it.

Poor Neal rushed to the airport, only to find Nancy had already gone.

It was said that Neal was furious and that on a whim, he asked a friend to find him a potential marriage partner.

Wow, a marriage partner!

So, when I first heard this news from my best friend, I seized the opportunity and knocked on his door.

"Neal, I'm sorry to hear about that."

I pretended to be sad too, trying to comfort him this way.

He looked at me and simply nodded to signal his gratitude.

Seeing the dark circles under his eyes, I knew he hadn't rested well these past few days. This realization made me feel even more sympathetic and resolute in my decision.

I took a few steps forward, stood in front of him, and, under his curious gaze, held his hand.

"Neal, I heard you're looking for a marriage partner."

His gaze suddenly was filled with complex emotions.

"Why don't you choose me?"

I blushed, slightly lowering my head, resembling a shy girl.

I inwardly praised my acting skills.

"I can manage the household and tackle any challenge, and most importantly, I'm an extremely loving person. So, if I become your wife, I'll definitely take very, very good care of you."

I was like selling myself like an importunate vendor.

And with my earnest self-promotion, Neal forced a smile and reluctantly agreed, "Alright then."

Just like that, I successfully became Neal's wife.

After receiving his promise, I returned to my apartment, so excited that I wanted to throw a party to celebrate it.

Of course, I had to thank Nancy. If it weren't for her departure, I wouldn't have had the chance to get close to Neal, let alone marry him.

The next morning, he drove a flashy car to take me to get our marriage certificate.

A minute later, looking at the marriage certificate in my hands, I suddenly wanted to give Neal a big kiss, though I only dared to imagine it in my mind.

"Shall we go out for dinner tonight?" I eagerly awaited my husband's response.

But all I received was a cold and somewhat impatient reply, "I have plans tonight. Maybe another day."

So, I watched his car drive away. And I had to take a taxi back to my apartment.

Alright then, I would celebrate my get married myself.

2

After my relentlessly bothering him, Neal finally agreed to let me move in with him.

"Neal, we're married, so we should live together. Otherwise, how can we maintain our relationship? I know you haven't fallen for me yet. But you haven't even gotten to know me. So why don't you give us a chance?"

Perhaps he was tired of hearing my endless reasoning, so he reluctantly agreed.

The next day, he drove over to help me move.

In Neal's mind, helping me move was driving me to my apartment building and letting me handle the packing myself.

Watching the man in the driver's seat, cold and motionless, I pursed my lips.

Alright, driving me here was already a big step forward.

I didn't have much stuff. A single suitcase held all my belongings.

He turned to look at my apartment, raising an eyebrow slightly and saying, "Is the security here reliable?"

As an ordinary office worker, my salary not only had to cover the expensive rent but also my daily expenses.

Renting a place near the company was already fortunate enough. What more could I ask for?

However, someone like Neal, who owned enterprises, surely hadn't experienced this kind of life.

After all, he was born with a silver spoon.

"As long as I have a place to stay, it's okay. I'm easy to please and not fussy." I turned and smiled, showing my cute dimples to him.

But the next moment, Neal took me to a high-end mall and bought a bunch of female items.

Cosmetics, skincare products, clothes, bags, shoes, and even some jewelry...

Scenes I had only seen on TV were now a reality for me.

More than that, I was the female lead being pampered by a rich male lead.

Yet, I felt he bought these items not for me but to give vent to his emotions and to make himself feel better.

"Which room should I stay?" Standing in the massive villa with my suitcase, I felt like an outsider.

Neal clearly hadn't thought about this. His cleverness seemed to fail him for a moment.

"How about I stay in your room?" Since we were married, I couldn't accept sleeping in separate beds with him.

Sleeping in separate beds wouldn't help make him fall for me. The saying, couples who shared a bed were more in harmony, didn't come out of nowhere.

Neal quietly looked at me without speaking and led me to the second floor, which showed he agreed with my suggestion.

Watching him carry my suitcase with one hand, I couldn't help but feel admiration for him and praised him to myself. "Wow, he's really handsome."

Just as he brought me to the master bedroom, a phone call took him away.

I understood he was very busy.

"If you need any furniture, just go to the mall and buy it. Here's my supplementary card and the password is six zeroes. No spending limit."

Upon hearing this, I cheekily said, "You're amazing, darling. Love you!"

The next moment, his face flushed suspiciously.

3

After Neal left for the company, I began playing my role as the other owner of the house, kicking off my furniture renovation plan.

As a professional furniture designer, I trusted my own taste implicitly.

But the thought that this was my marital home with Neal made my heart race with excitement.

Once I put my belongings in order, I headed to the furniture store and bought a bunch of items.

After a busy day, I had just finished dinner and was sitting on the sofa watching TV when I heard the sound of a car engine shutting off in the garden.

Like a dutiful wife waiting at home for her husband, I eagerly ran to the entrance to open the door for him.

As soon as the door opened, he seemed apparently surprised to see someone else in the house.

But I was already into my role. I threw my arms around him in a big hug.

He was clearly a bit flustered by my enthusiasm.

However, what surprised him even more was yet to come.

For instance, I swapped his plain black slippers for white ones.

I plastered large wedding decorations on all the walls.

I replaced the curtains with bright purple-red ones.

And I transformed his room into a beautifully decorated honeymoon suite.

Of course, I was the only one who thought so because I could clearly see him take a deep breath.

"Do you not like it? If you don't, I can take them all off tomorrow." I hung my head, honestly hoping he would show some sign of liking what I'd done.

But he seemed to have no such intention.

He turned to look at me, his lips pursed.

"It's fine, as long as you like it." With his approval, I began attending to him more dutifully, practically like a perfect wife.

For example, I used to stay up late working overtime, but now I made sure to get into bed minutes before Neal did, so he could feel the warmth of his bed.

I used to wake up at the last possible moment, but now I got up at six every morning, quietly turning off the alarm clock and watching Neal sleeping sweetly beside me. I tiptoed out of bed, trying not to wake him.

Then I headed to the kitchen to prepare coffee and reheat bread in the toaster.

Finally, I would make him a sandwich.

By the time I finished all this, Neal would come downstairs right on time.

At first, he seemed a bit surprised that I was up so early making breakfast for him. "You don't have to get up so early. My secretary can prepare it."

Of course, I knew he was used to having breakfast prepared by a top chef.

But that was before.

Now he had me, a dedicated wife, and he should breakfast from me from now on.

Besides, my mother had always taught me that the way to win a man over was through delicious food!

Whether this was true or not, I preferred to take action first.

"But homemade breakfast is quite meaningful, and I'm not tired. I love watching you have the breakfast I make." I rested my chin in my hand, gazing at him with admiration.

Neal didn't say anything, but his hand holding the knife and fork moved a little faster.

"What's this?" Neal asked as he reached the entrance. I handed him a cup of hot cocoa I took from the kitchen.

"It's hot cocoa for fuel. I noticed you often work late, and staying up can affect your energy." I stuffed the pink cup into his hand, and he looked down at it, seemingly lost in thought.

To me, his expression seemed to be filled with reluctance.

"I made it myself. Try it. It tastes good," I quickly added, fearing he might refuse.

"Thank you."

Hearing his thanks, I happily gave him a big hug and a peck on his cheek.

After kissing him, I didn't dare look at his reaction and hurried upstairs.

Meanwhile, Neal stood at the entrance, touched his cheek, and chuckled softly.

Unknowingly, we had been living together for a month.

Although our relationship had somewhat become close during this time, it was mostly me taking the initiative, while Neal's attitude remained somewhat distant.

But I didn't let that discourage me. Instead, I tried my best to be good to him.

Late at night, I woke up and found the space beside me still empty.

I picked up my phone from the bedside table. It was one in the morning.

Feeling a bit thirsty, I decided to go downstairs for water, only to find Neal lying on the sofa, his tie loosened and hair disheveled.

I had never seen him like this before.

As soon as I approached him, a strong smell of alcohol hit me, and his furrowed brow silently revealed his discomfort.

His hand rested on his forehead, and he looked utterly exhausted.

At that moment, I truly felt his struggles and his vulnerability, which suggested his need for someone to care for him.

I crouched down, held his hand, and gently called his name. "Neal."

He managed to let out a low sound in reply.

So, with my petite frame, I helped him to the bed, sweating profusely from the effort.

But as his wife, I accepted it as my duty to take care of him.

A little hardship for me was nothing. As long as he was comfortable, I was content.

Yet, an hour later, I realized that while he was comfortable, I was utterly exhausted.

I took a basin of water from the bathroom to wipe his body, thinking he would feel uncomfortable if he didn't bathe.

As I did so, he seemed relaxed, but I blushed crimson at the sight of his bare body.

After finishing that, I went downstairs to make him some coffee for hangover and fed it to him.

Once all this was done, I collapsed onto the bed, too tired to even open my eyes.

In the dark, Neal awoke from his drunken sleep and slowly opened his eyes.

As he got up to go to the bathroom, he noticed the coffee for hangover on the bedside table and the loungewear I had changed him into.

He quietly walked over to me and gently tucked me in.

The next morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I was startled.