Helene Richard: The Truth Unveiled

Richa

ce. My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache behind my right ear. I pushed myself up, my fingers touch

m would simply disappear. That his actions would be forgotten, like a bad dr

pers still lay, untouched by his hand. He hadn' t even bothered to pick the

blic adored him. He was the charming scion, the philanthropic playboy, the face of American ambition. They didn't see the man w

ays, whispered promises of forever under glittering constellations. He' d swept me off my feet, a humble girl from the Midwest, new to the cut

. He looked at me, his eyes full of what I thought was adoration, as he promised to take

eath warm against my ear during one of our early, passiona

s egg sparkling in his hand, a million cameras flashing. "Helene Richard," he'd boomed, his voice echoing through the ballroom, "will you

fa, the fairytale felt like a twisted joke. The vows, the promises – they

n his collar, a vague excuse about "business trips." I confronted him

a surprisingly gentle touch, "it's just business. You know how these things a

" She' d laid out the terms, unspoken yet crystal clear. My job was to maintain the façade, to be the perfect, understanding wife. In return, the Wise family would ensure my fa

That the man who had supported my career, who had bought my mother the best medical care, still existed beneath the

ic. To be so broken, so stripped of every illusi

peeked around the corner. My heart clenched, a familiar pain. He hadn't been h

d. His eyes, Garrett's eyes, held no co

y people get what they want." He held up a small, brightly colored drawing. I

ad been so systematically turned against me. By Celsa. By

Kellen," I manag

oring the disdain I saw in Celsa's eyes. "Daphne sa

uel caricature. The tears I couldn't shed for myself, for my ruined marriag

A text. From the hospital. Your mo

one. The last tether to my former life, to

longer possessed. My vision blurred, not with tears, but with a sudden, overwhelming emptiness. The world felt like it was closing in,

fe. This charade. This constant, suffocating pain. And a new kind