THE WIFE HE NEVER WANTED

Isla's POV

The rain poured heavily outside, tapping against the windows like impatient fingers drumming on glass. The cold air seeped into my skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill settling in my heart.

I sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched dinner before me. A candle burned in the center, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Two plates, two glasses, two sets of silverware-everything was perfectly arranged.

But there was only one person sitting here.

Me.

I clenched my hands into fists, pressing my nails into my palms. I had spent hours preparing this meal, foolishly thinking that tonight would be different. That maybe, just maybe, Adrian would remember what today was.

Our wedding anniversary.

Two years ago, I had vowed to love him in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow. But from the moment we got married, he had kept his distance. No warmth, no affection-only cold indifference. He treated me like a stranger in our own home.

And now, after all the waiting, all the silent prayers for him to look at me, to see me... he finally spoke the words that shattered everything.

"Let's get a divorce."

My breath caught in my throat. My fingers trembled as I looked up at him. He stood across from me, his face unreadable, his expression as calm as ever. As if he wasn't breaking my heart. As if our marriage had meant nothing at all.

I swallowed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Divorce?"

Adrian nodded, sliding a document across the table. "I've already prepared the papers. You just need to sign them."

I stared at the crisp white sheets, my vision blurring. My name was printed neatly next to his, binding us together in ink. And yet, with a single signature, everything would be erased.

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I lifted my gaze to him, searching for something-anything-that showed he cared.

But there was nothing.

His dark eyes were emotionless, his lips set in a firm line. The same distant, indifferent expression he had always worn.

I forced out a shaky breath. "Why now?"

"Isla, my Father made marry you. I never loved you," he said.

The words sliced through me like a dagger.

I had always known. Deep down, I had always known that Adrian never loved me. He never looked at me the way a husband should look at his wife. He never held my hand, never whispered sweet words, never smiled at me the way he smiled at others.

But to hear it from his own mouth...

It hurt.

More than I ever imagined it would.

Adrian had a presence that turned heads- confident, sharp, and effortlessly charming. He made problems seem small, decisions easy, and for a moment, he could make me feel like I was the only person in the world. I admired his fearlessness, his certainty. But now I see it- his confidence was arrogance, his charm a mask, and his strength? Just indifference in disguise.

I forced myself to nod, swallowing back the pain. "I understand."

Something flickered in his eyes. Something almost like guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I'll try to make it up to you," he said, his voice lower than before.

Make it up to me? How? By giving me money? By offering me pity? By pretending that breaking my heart wasn't the worst thing he could ever do?

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw the papers in his face, to demand why he ever married me if he never wanted me in the first place.

But instead, I just smiled. A hollow, empty smile.

"There's no need."

Adrian looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then his phone rang, breaking the heavy silence between us. He glanced at the screen, then stood up.

"I have to go."

Of course. He always had to go.

I watched as he grabbed his coat and walked toward the door without looking back. The moment it shut behind him, the walls around my heart crumbled.

Tears spilled down my cheeks.

Happy anniversary to me.

Isla's POV

From that day on, I buried myself in work. It was the only thing that kept me sane. The moment I stepped into the design studio each morning, I pushed away every thought of Adrian- every painful memory, every lingering ache.

Days turned into weeks, and I told myself I was fine. I convinced myself that I didn't care anymore, that I was moving on. But deep down, I knew the truth.

I wasn't fine.

I was exhausted.

And the worst part? No matter how hard I worked, no matter how many hours I spent sketching, revising, and meeting impossible deadlines... nothing could fill the emptiness inside me.

---

So this morning, as I was reviewing fabric samples, a strange dizziness washed over me. The edges of my vision blurred, and a wave of nausea twisted my stomach. I gripped the table, inhaling sharply.

"Isla, are you okay?" Mia, my assistant, looked at me with concern.

I forced a smile. "Yeah... Just a little tired."

But the dizziness didn't fade. It got worse.

By lunchtime, I could barely focus. My head throbbed, my stomach churned, and my hands trembled as I held my pen.

Something wasn't right.

I had been feeling off for weeks- tired, nauseous, strangely emotional. I kept telling myself it was stress, that my body was just reacting to everything I had been through. But now, I wasn't so sure.

A sudden, terrifying thought crept into my mind.

No. It couldn't be.

Could it?

My breath caught in my throat as I counted the days. The realization hit me like a freight train.

No. No. No.

My heart pounded as I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the office.

---

At the hospital, I sat in the waiting area, my fingers tightly clutching my phone. The walls felt like they were closing in on me.

I had taken a test at home before coming here. The two pink lines had stared back at me, undeniable and absolute. But I needed confirmation. I needed a doctor to tell me that I had read it wrong- that it was all just a mistake.

Because if it wasn't...

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I couldn't afford to think about that right now.

A nurse finally called my name, and I followed her into the examination room. The doctor greeted me with a kind smile before asking a few routine questions. Then came the ultrasound.

The screen flickered, and a small, unmistakable shape appeared.

My breath hitched.

Tiny. So tiny.

Yet, undeniably real.

"Congratulations," the doctor said gently. "You're about eight weeks along."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. Eight weeks. Two months.

My hands went cold.

It had been exactly two months since that drunken night. The night I had tried to drown my sorrows. The night Adrian and I...

Oh, God.

This was his baby.

---

I walked out of the hospital in a daze, my mind spinning.

Pregnant.

I was pregnant with Adrian's child.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over me. Shock. Fear. A strange, unexpected warmth.

What was I supposed to do now?

Adrian wouldn't let me keep this baby.

I knew him. I knew how cold and calculating he could be. He had thrown me away without a second thought- he would never allow his so-called perfect life to be disrupted by a child he never wanted.

Would he force me to get rid of it? Would he take the baby away from me if I refused?

A shiver ran down my spine.

No.

I wouldn't let him.

I had already lost him. I wouldn't lose this baby too.

---

As I turned the corner toward the main exit, I noticed a sudden commotion.

Whispers filled the air, and people gathered near one of the clinic rooms, murmuring excitedly.

"Is that really her?"

"She's even more beautiful in person!"

"I heard her boyfriend is coming to pick her up. I wonder who he is."

Curious, I slowed my steps and glanced toward the half-open door. Through the small gap, I caught a glimpse of a woman sitting on the examination bed.

My breath hitched.

Even from this angle, she was breathtaking.

Sapphire Laurent.

One of the biggest superstars in the entertainment industry. The kind of woman men worshiped and women envied. With her flawless skin, mesmerizing eyes, and effortless elegance, she looked like she had stepped straight out of a dream.

Why was she here?

As if on cue, the whispers in the hallway grew louder.

"He's here."

"Who?"

"Her boyfriend! The mysterious one she's been hiding all this time."

I frowned.

Mysterious boyfriend?

My curiosity got the better of me, and I turned my head toward the hospital entrance. The moment I saw him, my heart stopped.

Adrian.

He walked in with his usual cold, commanding presence, dressed in a tailored black suit that made him look even more untouchable. His expression was unreadable, but the way he moved- the confidence, the authority- made it clear that he wasn't just any man.

He was here for her.

For Sapphire Laurent.

My throat tightened.

So this was why he had been in such a hurry to leave that night. This was why he had never looked back.

Because he already had someone else.

The rumors about Sapphire's secret boyfriend... The reason she had kept him hidden all this time...

It was him.

The man I had loved for two years. The man I had given everything to.

The father of my unborn child.

A wave of nausea crashed over me, stronger than before. But this time, it had nothing to do with my pregnancy.

It was heartbreak.

Pure, soul-crushing heartbreak.

I tore my gaze away before he could see me. My hands trembled as I pressed them against my stomach.

I couldn't let him find out.

Not now. Not ever.

Because Adrian had already made his choice.

And it wasn't me.

Isla's POV

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

The air in the hospital corridor felt heavy, suffocating. My mind refused to process what I had just seen.

Adrian... here.

With her.

The woman everyone adored. The one the entire hospital had been whispering about. The one who had a "mystery boyfriend" powerful enough to command attention.

Sapphire Laurent.

And now, I knew the truth.

Adrian wasn't just her mystery boyfriend. He was hers.

I had spent two years as his wife, hidden in the shadows, ignored and unwanted. And yet here he was, standing beside Sapphire like she was the most precious thing in the world.

I should have walked away. I should have turned and left before the scene could get any worse.

But I didn't.

I couldn't.

Something inside me- maybe the last shred of foolish hope- refused to let go.

So I stayed.

And I watched.

---

Sapphire sat on the hospital bed, dressed in a pale blue hospital gown. Even with slightly swollen eyes and traces of exhaustion on her face, she still looked stunning. The kind of woman who never had to try. The kind of woman Adrian could love.

She let out a soft whimper, struggling to get out of bed.

"Adrian..." she called out, her voice delicate, almost fragile.

Without hesitation, Adrian was at her side.

"Don't move," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You're still weak."

I froze.

That voice. That tone.

Soft. Careful. Gentle.

A side of him I had never seen. A side of him he had never once shown me.

Sapphire sniffled, biting her lip as if trying to hold back tears. "But I don't want to stay here. I feel awful, Adrian."

And just like that, Adrian reached out and wiped the tears from her cheek.

I felt my stomach drop.

Not once. Not once in two years had he ever looked at me that way. Not when I was exhausted from work. Not when I was sick. Not even when I begged for his attention.

But now, standing before Sapphire, he looked like a man capable of love.

A man capable of tenderness.

And it wasn't for me.

---

The room felt smaller. My breathing became shallow.

I should leave. I should run before I saw more.

But my body refused to move.

Adrian gently adjusted the blanket around Sapphire, making sure she was comfortable before leaning closer. His hand rested on her forehead, checking her temperature.

She let out a sigh and rested her head against his chest.

"Adrian..." she whispered again, her voice barely above a breath. "I don't want to stay here anymore."

Adrian nodded. "I'll take you home."

And then, without hesitation, he bent down and scooped her into his arms.

I gasped silently, my nails digging into my palms.

So he could be gentle.

He could care.

Just not for me.

Not for the woman he had been married to for two years.

The pain was unbearable, yet I stood there and watched.

---

Adrian carried Sapphire out of the room effortlessly, like she weighed nothing. As they stepped into the hallway, a flood of camera flashes exploded.

Paparazzi.

I hadn't even noticed them before, but now they were everywhere, shouting, snapping pictures, recording videos.

The "mystery boyfriend" was finally revealed.

And Adrian didn't hide.

Not like he had hidden me.

Not like he had erased every trace of our marriage from the world.

He walked through the chaos, carrying Sapphire in his arms as if protecting the most precious treasure in the world.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning.

Why?

Why her?

What made her so special? What did she have that I didn't?

I took a shaky step forward and found myself near the window. My fingers curled against the glass as I watched them from above.

Adrian moved through the flashing lights, ignoring the reporters, ignoring the chaos, focused only on one thing- getting Sapphire into the car safely.

He gently lowered her onto the leather seat, his hands lingering for a moment, adjusting the seatbelt around her. His expression remained unreadable, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

This was a man who cared.

A man who cherished.

A man who loved.

But never me.

Never once.

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.

I had wasted two years of my life waiting for Adrian to look at me like that. To care, even just a little.

But in the end, I was nothing more than a secret he was eager to forget.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, my heart pounding.

Adrian had moved on.

But I...

I was carrying his child.