Husband Chooses Secretary Over His Wife

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband finally agreed to take a trip with me. But during the journey, Blake abandoned me on a foreign street because his young secretary, Amaya, decided to go on a hunger strike.

I looked at the travel itinerary I had carefully planned over the past year and begged him not to leave, to spend this anniversary with me. He shook off my hand.

"Anniversaries come around every year, but if Amaya doesn't eat, it could be a big deal!"

"You think everyone is as resilient as you, like a workhorse that won't miss a meal."

Although impatience tinged his voice, he still brushed a kiss on my forehead when he saw my tear-streaked face.

"Wait for me. I'll be back once I calm Amaya down."

But as I watched him board his private jet without a backward glance, I knew he wasn’t returning. I glanced at my hands, swollen from pregnancy, and with a bitter smile, tucked the prenatal check-up report back into my backpack. I couldn’t continue this oppressive marriage any longer.

***

Seeing the two of them so close in the hospital room, I suppressed the fury rising inside me. I pushed the door open and stood at the foot of the bed.

Seeing the look on my face, Blake instinctively moved to block my view of Amaya. Amaya noticed I had something to say and sent Blake to fetch some coffee. As I watched him leave, glancing back at her every few steps, a wave of bitterness swept over me. When I was sick, he wouldn't even get me a glass of water, yet he willingly did it for Amaya.

A soft laugh from the bed drew my attention. I stared intently at Amaya. "You should know Blake has a family."

Amaya met my gaze without flinching, ambition glimmering in eyes eerily similar to mine. "Of course I know. Everyone says I look like a younger version of you. But I'm younger and here to take your place."

Her words ignited a fire within me, and I grabbed her hair. "Who do you think you are? What right do you have to replace me?!"

Amaya yelped as I tugged at her hair, but remained unfazed. Just as I was about to slap her, she collapsed, shrieking and clutching her cheek as if I had already struck her.

Before I could even process what happened, a kettle of boiling water was hurled at me, scalding my entire arm. The burning pain made me scream, and I looked at Blake in disbelief.

He was momentarily flustered by my cries but was quickly drawn to Amaya's act of weakness. He cradled her, soothing the few splashes that had reddened her skin with cool breaths.

Turning to where I sat on the floor, he yelled, “You ungrateful woman! Visiting Amaya was already more than you deserved, who gave you the nerve to hit her?”

He continued to comfort Amaya, not sparing me a glance. "Apologize