A New Beginning

I had been married to James Tennant for seven years. In that time, he had already kept twenty-nine mistresses, like pretty little canaries in gilded cages.

Now, I saw the thirtieth one in our bedroom, young and draped in nothing but a bath towel, lounging across our bed.

I turned to him and asked coldly, “Can’t get enough out there, huh? Did you really have to bring her home?”

The girl deliberately tugged her towel lower, her pale skin showing as she sneered, “Mr. Tennant says you’re like a dead corpse in bed! He wanted me to teach you how to please a man.”

That night, I was forced to watch their little performance right in front of me.

The next morning, James was furious at my indifference, resenting me for not reacting. However, he seemed to forget that our marriage was nothing but a contract, and in just one week, that contract would expire.

“Tess, go and get Claire some clothes.”

James Tennant, my husband, sat shirtless on the bed, lighting a cigarette as he ordered me around.

Clothes were scattered all over the floor, evidence of what had happened the night before. I stood still, not moving, and simply glanced at him.

Wrapped in a blanket, Claire Fisher beamed at me. “Mr. Tennant, isn’t this a little inappropriate? After all, she’s Mrs. Tennant.”

She said “Mrs. Tennant” so casually, without a shred of guilt. Instead, her tone carried nothing but pride and provocation.

The blanket slipped down her shoulder as she moved, revealing skin covered in red marks.

“Besides, I doubt Mrs. Tennant has anything in her closet that would fit me.”

With that, Claire deliberately pressed her upper body against James’s arm, giggling. “She’s nothing like me. Ha!”

Expressionless, I turned and walked toward the door.

“Tess! I was talking to you!” His voice came from behind, laced with irritation.

I paused for a second but didn’t look back. “If she wants clothes, she can get them herself. I have things to do.”

For seven years, I had rarely gone against him. Whether he ordered me openly or hinted indirectly, I almost never refused. Today was the first time I broke that unspoken rule.

“What did you just say?” James’s voice sharpened, unused to my coldness.

Anger crept into his tone. “You have things to do? What things? You stay home all day. You don’t work or earn a dime! Don’t forget, if it weren’t for me marrying you, do you really think you’d be living such a comfortable life?”

He was right. Without marrying him, I wouldn’t be living as a wealthy wife. However, he also forgot that this wasn’t the life I ever wanted.

Back then, I had just graduated from college. The director of the orphanage that raised me told me that the land was being taken by the government and that it would soon be torn down. If we couldn’t find a sponsor, the younger children would be left homeless.

That was when