Love Me, Fool Me: The Jilted Wife's Secret

Florrie Barnes left the law office with the divorce papers clutched tightly in her hand while a gentle drizzle spread across the city.

Right when she reached for her car door, her phone lit up with her husband Alexander Jenkins' name.

For a brief second she froze, but then pressed the phone to her ear.

From the other end came Alexander's cold voice. "You're not at home?"

Something in the way he spoke gave her pause, almost as if there was a trace of concern hidden in his tone.

With her gaze lowered, she answered softly, "I'll be back soon, you..."

Before she could finish, Alexander chimed in, "Pick up some ointment for swelling before you return."

The words made her frown, and despite the divorce papers in her hand, worry stirred. "Did you get hurt? Is it serious? Is your heart acting up again? I'll come straight back and take care of you."

But in the next instant, the voice that drifted through the receiver sent a shiver down her spine. "Alex, it still aches... It's all your fault!"

A syrupy, flirtatious voice oozed from the receiver, drenched in sweetness.

It was Suzanne Hewitt-Alexander's childhood sweetheart.

Then Alexander spoke again, detached and dismissive. "I got a bit carried away and might hurt Suzanne earlier. This isn't something you can deal with. Just buy the ointment. And while you're at it, get a morning-after pill."

The line went dead before Florrie could breathe a word.

Cold wind swept through the night, and as the dial tone droned on, numbness spread to her fingertips.

Was his wife really meant to fetch a morning-after pill for the lover he kept by his side?

During three years of marriage, he had never once touched her. To him, she was nothing more than a pitiful shadow, clinging to him with blind devotion, her dignity stripped away, her love reduced to something worthless.

Yet none of that mattered, so long as his happiness remained untouched and the heart of Alexis Wallace, beating within his chest, was kept safe.

Wordlessly, she purchased both the ointment and the pill before heading back home. When the door swung open, the sight that greeted her was Suzanne lounging in Alexander's arms, a flimsy nightgown slipping from her shoulders, the skin of her neck and chest marked with deep-red hickeys.

Across the room, Alexander sat peeling grapes for her, slipping them between her lips with a teasing lilt. "Still mad at me, baby? I'll behave next time, I swear. Tomorrow we'll go out, just you and me, all day long. How does that sound?"

Suzanne leaned closer with a pout, her voice girlish and sweet. "You better not trick me again."

Even though Alexander bore the title of her husband, Florrie could see where his true affections lay. Between the two of them, there was intimacy, while she, his wife, stood as the stranger intruding.

In silence, Florrie clutched the paper bag tighter. When Suzanne finally noticed her, a shadow passed through her gaze.

Moments later, Suzanne put on a mask of innocence, her tone fragile. "Oh... Florrie, you're home?"

Pretending to panic, she shifted as if to get off Alexander's lap. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

But Alexander's arm only tightened around her waist, pulling her firmly back. "Don't waste your breath on her. Isn't this where you belong, right here with me?"

Not once did he acknowledge his wife directly, his words cutting like ice. "Leave the bag on the table and get upstairs. Don't bother Suzanne and me again."

So that was her place-the unwanted wife, treated as a nuisance even in her own house.

From the corner of her eye, Florrie caught the smirk Suzanne tried to hide, and she managed a faint smile of her own. "Be careful, Alexander. A heart that's endured surgery isn't built for reckless indulgence."

His stare turned sharp with annoyance, his voice flat. "That's none of your concern."

Nothing he said could hurt her anymore.

Her devotion had never been for Alexander himself but for the heart he carried inside his chest.

For three years, every effort she made was only to shield that heart from harm.

Alexander always assumed Florrie married him for wealth and status, so he accepted her care as if it were owed.

That fragile arrangement held until Suzanne's sudden return from overseas. With her back, everything collapsed in an instant.

Alexander rushed toward Suzanne without hesitation.

And so, Florrie decided she might as well step aside and grant him the freedom he longed for.

Florrie slipped the papers from the envelope and turned straight to the page for signatures. "I need you to sign this."

She almost blurted out, "Let's end this marriage," but she caught herself. Alexander's pride and obsession with appearances made her doubt he would sign without a fight.

So she changed her approach and said, "It looks like it came from the property management office for that villa you bought a while back."

Alexander finally lifted his eyes, his brows tightening with irritation. "Do you honestly need to trouble me with something so minor? Why can't you just sign it for me?"

Florrie pressed the papers and pen toward him, lowering her eyes as she spoke softly. "It's in your name, so I can't sign it for you. And didn't you say you didn't want anyone knowing I was your wife?"

Florrie's reply caught Alexander off guard, and his frown deepened.

There was a quietness about Florrie today that didn't feel familiar.

Even though she had always been gentle and compliant around him, there had still been moments when she showed a hint of sadness.

This time, though, her compliance seemed out of place, almost unnatural.

He was about to question her when she noticed his suspicion and quickly added, trying to sound concerned, "It's best if she takes the morning-after pill right away. She might not feel well after, so make sure you look after her."

Alexander heard her and the scowl faded from his face, replaced by a faint scoff.

He figured Florrie was anxious that Suzanne might end up pregnant and threaten her own standing as his wife.

Her sudden eagerness to please now made sense.

He pulled his gaze away and, as always, ignored the documents entirely before picking up the pen and scribbling his signature without hesitation.

Collecting the signed papers, Florrie watched as he lifted Suzanne in his arms and took her upstairs. She stood in the empty living room, silent, only moving much later when she made her way to the guest bedroom.

All night long, the loud moans from the next room kept her awake, tossing and turning as sleep refused to come.

The same haunting nightmare returned once more, pulling her back to that frozen field stained with blood. She stood helplessly, watching as the man she loved was carried into an ambulance, his cashmere coat drenched in blood.

The final thing he said to her was, "Florrie, don't cry. Promise me you'll live well..."

"Alex! Alex!" Florrie cried out his name, reaching for him, but her arms grasped at nothing as his figure faded farther and farther away.

Coldness spread through her limbs until a sharp voice broke through. "Florrie, wake up!"

Her eyes flew open, and she was met with a face she knew all too well.

The man hovered above her, his brow drawn tight, his gaze heavy with restrained anger.

"Alex..." she mumbled.

His voice cut in, harsh and unfeeling. "Why are you yelling first thing in the morning?" Then, with a trace of contempt, he added, "Was it just a nightmare?"

The fog in her head cleared, and reality sank in-this wasn't the Alex she dreamed of. It was Alexander.

She stayed quiet, which only made his frown deepen as he reached toward her. She pulled back before his hand could touch her. "Sorry if I disturbed you both," she said softly.

Her words were gentle like always, but there was a distance in them that hadn't been there before.

Without thinking, Alexander curled his hands into fists, unsettled by the change he felt from her.

Florrie steadied herself and asked politely, "Did you need something?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, forcing the unease down, and answered in a clipped, formal tone, "Suzanne is planning to gain some hands-on experience at the Jenkins Group. Assign the Greenhill Village redevelopment project to her and guide her through the process, since she'll be using it as part of her graduation project."

Florrie gripped the edge of the bed sheet until her fingers went numb, a sudden chill crawling through them.

Back in college, she had trained in surgical medicine, where her professors often told her she had the talent to become one of the best in the world.

Instead of chasing that future, she chose to remain in Alexander's company, taking on the role of deputy director and setting aside her career for his sake.

Every bit of it had been for the heart beating inside his chest.

The Greenhill Village redevelopment had been her pride and her burden.

She had carried the project from its earliest sketches to the near-finished stage, surviving endless sleepless nights to hold it together.

There had been villagers who cursed her and even attacked her, leaving her one step away from being hospitalized. Still, she had pressed on-even while lying in a hospital bed with a high fever, she typed proposals through the night because Alexander's grip on the CEO position was slipping, and he needed this victory to steady his name.

Florrie had poured everything into the Greenhill Village project, believing it would be her greatest offering to him. She never imagined Alexander would give it away so carelessly, showing not the slightest trace of appreciation for her efforts.

When her silence stretched on, Alexander let out a mocking laugh. "You've always put up with everything, haven't you? You didn't even complain when I skipped our wedding day. So over one project, you're not seriously planning to refuse, are you?"

Florrie lifted her eyes to his. "I won't refuse, but I'll agree only if you promise me one thing."

Alexander's jaw tightened at her response.

Did she mean to make some ridiculous demand?

His voice turned sharp, though calm. "What do you want? Money, property, shares, a house? Whatever's within reach, I'll give it. But don't ask for anything else."

Her gaze dropped, and a bitter smile touched her lips.

Alexander had never been generous. During their entire marriage, apart from the rare pieces of jewelry meant to keep up appearances, he had never given her anything of real value.

And now, for Suzanne's sake, Alexander was ready to give up so much, even allowing Florrie the freedom to name her terms.

Once, that would have shattered her. But somewhere along the way, she had stopped expecting anything from him. Maybe she had grown used to disappointment. Maybe she had just gone numb.

Her lips curved faintly as her eyes lingered on his collarbone. "I want the talisman you've kept on you these past three years. Will you give it to me?"

That talisman had once belonged to Alexis.

If she was going to walk away, then taking it back felt like the only right thing to do.

Alexander froze at her request, then his brow tightened in confusion.

The pendant wasn't worth much. It was carved from ordinary stone, something his grandmother had pressed into his hands after his surgery years ago. The only marking on it was a simple engraving of the name "Alex."

His gaze lifted to hers as he asked, almost without thinking, "Why would you want that?"

Florrie laced her fingers together, her tone even. "It's nothing important. You've worn it for so long, I just thought... it could be a keepsake."

Alexander studied her a moment longer, unsettled but unconcerned.

Florrie had always been the type to treasure scraps of affection, holding on to anything he let her have.

Asking for something that had been so close to him seemed natural.

"I'll hand it over after you finish the project transfer at the company. Once Suzanne is settled, it's yours."

Straightening his tie, as though the deal had already been made, Alexander added, "Our wedding anniversary is coming up soon, isn't it? Tell me what you'd like this year."

Her smile barely lifted. "Don't bother. I'll think of something later."

Alexander sensed that something about her behavior was unusual, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Florrie had once cared about every little gesture. She used to light up the moment he mentioned giving her anything. Now she sounded as if none of it mattered.