His Trophy Wife, Her Secret Life

lery, which was a bitter i

ork was on display as part of a group show for emerging artists. I stood in a corner, nursi

he wal

ce, a glittering whirlwind of old money and modern power. She wasn't just a socialit

ed in front o

d streets and lonely figures. It was everything I f

g to me. I hadn't even realized she

month, I was swept into her world. It was a dizzying blur of charity galas,

orld. I believed her. For a year, it was a fantasy. I, the starving artist, had been rescued by the b

peared six months

ghboring estate, her first love. He was a charismatic dreamer with a tech idea he cla

e," she explained. "His lead investor just pulled out. I have

"But we have the benef

important, Eth

ully wrapped box. Inside was the Patek Philippe watch

ld myself it was ju

it w

vid's team is threatening to quit." "David n

d of our marriage. Her life revolved around his. M

the last. An antique writing desk. A rare sculpture. A t

roviding me with a life of luxury I could never have afforded on my own, freeing me from the burden

me; she was caging me in gold. My studio, once my sanctuary, started to feel like a h

s a reminder of the man I used to be, the

one of her "gifts"-a Lalique crystal horse-again

shocked. "What is wrong with you? Th

Sophia! I want my wife!"

rum. "Ethan, don't be so dramatic. I am your wife. And I'm trying to help my olde

day I realized you can't reason with someone who

e a gift, I would just say, "Th

thing. My heart had become a block of ice. The pain was still the

d to mistake for remorse. She would look at me with s

up to you, Eth

hope, and hope was a slow and painful poison. I' d let myself believe her

low as her apologies were expensive. They were just words she us

the signed divorce papers felt li

was my secret.

period before it was finaliz

hirty days from now was our

almost laughed. She would

get her freedom. An