My Lawyer Husband Hid Our Marriage for 8 Years—Then I Vanished With Our Daughter

I’d been married to my lawyer husband for eight years, but he never acknowledged me as his wife in public. He wouldn’t even let our daughter call him dad. “Outside, I’m not your dad.” Because he was deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, Selena. Again and again, he missed his daughter’s childhood because of her. Even when she hurt our daughter, he still forgave her. I was worn out and empty. So, I decided to take our daughter and vanish from his world.

I handed over my resignation letter, facing my supervisor’s incredulous look. I just smiled faintly. “I’m changing jobs. Going to find her dad abroad.” Sam was silent for a beat, then blurted out, “I thought he was gone forever.” I told a trivial lie, but the result was laughable. Truth was, my baby’s father might as well be gone.

I thought things would go smoothly, but Nate refused to divorce me. He started searching for us like a madman, turning the whole world upside down. Only this time, neither my daughter nor I would be looking back.

After finishing my work, I ran into Nate and Selena in the breakroom. They were speaking softly, intimately. I stood outside watching this. My heart ached uncontrollably. Nate was the founder of this law firm. He was also my daughter’s father. Eight years ago, I became his assistant. At the company banquet, we drank too much. We had a chaotic night together. My high heels were tossed aside, my dress torn, we were entwined. It was the first time I was so close to him. After that, I got pregnant. He married me, but it was a secret. He never liked me and he never liked our daughter. Selena, on the other hand, was special.

The two sat there, fused together. Her hand looped through his arm. Her body leaned softly into his. He looked down and smiled. He looked like he was about to kiss her. I couldn’t help myself. I walked over softly. I called his name.

“Nate, is there something you need, Christine?” Nate looked up, his gaze cold as he looked at me, making me instinctively take a step back. His tone was formal, distant, as if reminding me that I was just his assistant. I remembered his warning and pushed my emotions back down. “No, sir. I was just getting some water.” I lowered my head slightly, gave a short response, then seemed to remember something.

“Right. Hand over the financial law case you’ve been working on to Selena.” His expression turned serious. I froze. I had almost finished this project and was about to reap the rewards. Just as I was about to refuse, he frowned and cut me off. “I said give it to her.” Then he stood and walked away without giving me a chance to respond.

“I’ll handle it well. Thank you for your hard work, Christine.” Selena smiled smugly at me and followed close behind him.

I smiled coldly. That case would bring in a generous commission once the contract was signed. I’ve already lost count of how many times Nate has done this sort of thing. He’d willingly strip the credit from me and hand it to someone else. All to win Selena’s smile.

I took a deep breath and went back home. At least I still had my daughter.

My daughter happily threw herself at me as soon as she saw me. Listening to her cheerful voice, my heart sank little by little. “Mommy, will Daddy come to the sports day tomorrow? And my birthday?”

My daughter looked disappointed. So I called Nate once again. His impatient voice came through the phone. “I’m busy. Talk later.” The call didn’t hang up and the line fell silent. My daughter pretended not to care. “Daddy’s busy. It’s okay.”

But on Selena’s social media, I saw him sitting beside her at the movies, smiling. The comment section was full of hearts and compliments. I swallowed the bitterness and put my daughter to bed alone.

Late at night, I drank alone in the living room. In a daze, I seemed to see Nate walk into the living room. He gently picked me up from the floor. Our daughter excitedly threw herself into his arms, and the three of us were happily together as a family. When the dream ended, the living room was empty, and my heart felt just as empty. Even knowing his heart was never with me or the child, I still held on to this delusion.

How foolish. I smiled wryly at myself, threw away the wine bottle in my hand, and slowly got up. If there’s no love, why keep holding on? I looked at the wedding photo hanging in the living room and said coldly, “Nate, you’re free.”

The next day, I went to my daughter’s sports day alone. When she didn’t see her father in the crowd, tears welled up in her eyes. She cried quietly and stubbornly. From the moment she was born, Nate had never been there. Even though she won first place, it didn’t make her smile. For a child, the absence of a father feels like the absence of love.

“Mommy, will Daddy come home tonight for my birthday?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want her to be disappointed again, so I kept texting Nate. Eventually, he replied, “I’ll come.” The moment I saw it, I lit up. “Of course, Daddy’s coming.” She squealed in delight, jumping up and down. She was nearly trembling with excitement. I let out a quiet breath.

This would be the first time Nate agreed to celebrate her birthday. That evening, we sat at the table waiting for him. The table was filled with dishes Nate liked. She’d memorized all of her father’s preferences. She waited by the door, then sat, then waited again. She couldn’t even call him Daddy.

Time kept ticking away. By 11:59 p.m., she finally walked over. Her eyes were dim, her little frame deflated. The deadline had passed. I texted until my fingers hurt, but Nate still didn’t respond at all. I knew he wasn’t coming. The silence in the room was deafening. The hope we built had collapsed. Another promise broken by the man she loved. He was never coming home.

“Mommy, Dad must be really busy. Let’s not wait anymore.” She tried her best to be mature. I pushed down my sadness and wrapped her in my arms. “How about we wait just a little longer?” She shook her head. She didn’t want to wait anymore. I pressed a long kiss to her cheek. If she couldn’t feel his love, I’d give her all of mine. “Alyssa, Mommy will always love you.”

So I celebrated her birthday alone with her. In the candlelight, she made a wish. I didn’t ask what it was, but I knew she wished her father would love her.

When she fell asleep, I picked up my phone out of habit. I scrolled through Instagram. There it was—Selena’s new post. “It’s my birthday today. I received the best gift.” A man was down on one knee. I couldn’t see his full face, but I knew it was Nate. And the ring—it was the custom piece from France. I had once told him I liked it. I naively asked if it could be mine. He refused. Now he had given it to the woman he loved. A proposal, no doubt.

To him, Selena was the real wife. I smiled bitterly at myself and turned off my phone. Soon he would be single again. The night was silent and cold. No more waiting for someone who won’t return. I will protect my daughter’s world. The past is buried here. The final game is just beginning. Soon everything will change.

The next morning, the sound of the front door woke me. I took out the divorce papers I had prepared. Then I walked downstairs. There was Nate by the dining table. He was staring at the leftover cake. My heart felt calm—too calm. He heard my steps and looked up. “I worked too late last night,” he said, his voice having no guilt. “I forgot.”

I gave a cold laugh. I had called him, texted him endlessly. He didn’t hear, didn’t see. No, he was too busy holding another woman. Everything else could be ignored. I flipped the papers to the last page. I laid them flat and pointed to the line: “Sign it.”

Just as Nate was about to read it, his phone rang. Selena’s panicked voice spilled out. “Nate, my stomach hurts. Can you come get me, please? I’m really scared.” Without a second thought, he answered. “I’ll be right there.” He soothed her anxiously. He didn’t look back at the page. He signed fast, then rushed out.

I watched his retreating figure, then I neatly put away the papers. I murmured softly, “It’s all over.”

Nate’s footsteps faltered. “What do you mean by that?” He looked back, brows tight. “It’s nothing.” Nate didn’t suspect a thing and hurriedly left.

That afternoon, Nate sent a message. A courier delivered our daughter’s birthday present. When I opened the package, I froze. It was a Barbie doll. Alyssa’s lips trembled. She said Selena had traumatized her on purpose. Selena denied it flatly. Nate, of course, stood by her side, brushing our daughter off. “Don’t lie. I don’t like girls who lie.”

Since then, Barbie gave her nightmares, and now he sends her this for her birthday. How absurd. What a ridiculous excuse for a father. I thought about quietly replacing the gift, but it was too late. My daughter had already seen it. She cried and said to me, “Mommy, does Daddy hate me?”

I finally managed to comfort my daughter. But that night, Nate suddenly came back and his first words were: “I’m planning to have Selena move in for a while.” His tone was casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “We’re still keeping our marriage a secret. I don’t want her to know about us. So, you and the kid should move out temporarily. Keep your distance.”

I looked at him in disbelief, almost amused by his audacity. “So, you’re kicking us out just so you can play house with her?”

Nate frowned clearly. “Don’t twist my words. It’s just temporary.”

I said nothing, just let out a low, mirthless laugh. So that’s what we were to him. A hidden shame. A burden. The kind of anger I felt didn’t even leave room for arguments.

He noticed my expression and suddenly softened his voice. “I’ll bring you two back in a few days. I’ll make it up to you.”

I nodded, playing along, and walked upstairs without a word. It didn’t matter anymore. Whether I left now or later, the outcome was the same. I packed quickly and quietly and took my daughter’s hand.

Just as we were about to reach the door, it suddenly swung open. Selena stepped in, dragging a suitcase behind her. Our eyes met, and Selena’s smile instantly froze on her face. She pointed at me angrily as if I were the third party. “What are you doing here?”

Nate, sensing something was wrong, immediately rushed forward, took Selena’s suitcase, and blocked her line of sight. “I told you I’d come get you. That’s too much to carry. Don’t wear yourself out.” Halfway through his sentence, he instinctively looked at me, his expression uneasy and alert.

Before I could respond, Nate cut in. “She and her kid didn’t have anywhere to go. I felt bad for them and let them stay for a while.”

Felt bad. Once he used to say we were distant relatives. Now we were homeless charity cases. I thought I was numb to all his excuses by now. But somehow every one still managed to stab a little deeper.

And then my daughter’s voice rang out, polite and clear. “Hello, Uncle Nate.”

I stared at my daughter in disbelief. She held her head high with a quiet pride. Even though her eyes were brimming with tears, she refused to let them fall. “Thank you for taking care of us these past few days, Uncle Nate.”

Hearing her call him uncle, Nate froze. “What did you just call me?”

“Uncle Nate.”

“What did you call me?”

Eight years of a hidden marriage. I stood by him. I helped build his career from nothing. I fought beside him in the legal world. I gave birth to his child. And still, he kept our marriage secret. “Uncle Nate,” he said it was for his career. But what about our daughter? He wouldn’t let her call him dad. “What did you call me?” Every time he corrected her, he made it uncle. Now she called him what he wanted.

She tugged my arm. “Mom, let’s go. Let’s not bother him.” I nodded. I followed her lead. We would leave eventually. Leaving now changed nothing.

He moved fast. He blocked our path. “You forgot your bags.” His voice caught. I didn’t even look at him. “We don’t need them.” I kept walking. Alyssa stayed close.

Nate watched us leave. Something shifted in him. Unease rose in his chest. He acted on instinct. He caught my wrist. Alyssa froze beside me. I finally turned.

“Wait.” He could not let go. The night held its breath.

“Nate, hurry up.” At the same time, Selena urged him from behind. He swallowed the words meant to stop us. His smile turned stiff. “What about her essentials?” He tried another excuse. He glanced at our daughter. She hid behind me, silent.

“Aren’t you too involved?” I said it coldly. Then he hesitated. His eyes flickered with something unreadable. After a moment, he reached into his coat. He pulled out a bank card for our daughter. “Alyssa, take this.” He handed it to her. “Buy what you need. If she needed anything, she could buy it. The PIN is your birthday.”

Then he turned to Selena. He took a box of chocolates from her arms. He offered it to my daughter. “Your favorite flavor.” He said it was her favorite. “I missed your birthday. Let me make it up.” He pressed the box into her hands.

I saw the tiny spark of joy in her eyes. In that instant, I felt helpless. She was just a child. It didn’t take much to make her happy. She opened the box eagerly. She unwrapped a piece. Then she slipped it into her mouth.

A familiar dread scent hit me—matcha. The panic was instant. I shouted, my voice sharp with fear. “Spit it out. You can’t eat that.”

Alyssa’s smile froze mid-bite. I rushed forward. I pried her mouth open. I tried to scoop it out. Nate’s face darkened. “Christine, what the hell?”

He didn’t understand. I glared at him. “She’s allergic to matcha. She gets rashes everywhere.”

The truth hit him. Worry flashed into regret. “I didn’t know.” He finally saw it. “I’m sorry.”

But it was too late. My daughter finally realized what she had eaten. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her face went blank. The flicker of hope was gone. She looked at Nate. “It’s okay. You’re never around, so you wouldn’t know.” Her words cut deep. Nate had no answer.

She gripped my hand tightly. “Mommy, let’s go.”

She chose me. My heart ached. I bent down and scooped her up. Nate tried to grab Alyssa’s hand, but she dodged it. She buried her face in my chest. She refused to look at him again.

I walked away with her in my arms. Nate wanted to say something, but held back. He was concerned about Selena behind him. Yet he couldn’t stop worrying about his daughter. Behind me, I felt Nate’s gaze. It was heavy, conflicted, filled with guilt and helplessness. But this time, neither of us looked back.

After completing the resignation paperwork, I left the law firm. I didn’t want to see Nate, so I sent the divorce papers by courier. Once he saw them and signed his name, it would all be over. “Goodbye, Nate. I wish you a lifetime of happiness with the one you love,” I said softly.

I was preparing to take Alyssa abroad. Still, I was afraid she might resent me for the decision. So I asked her gently, “Sweetheart, we’re separating. Mommy and Daddy are separating. I’ll be taking you to live overseas. Will you be upset?”

She shook her head and kissed my cheek with quiet understanding. “Mommy, I have you. As long as I have you, I’m fine. I just want you to be happy.”

That undid me. But in that moment, every ounce of pain disappeared. With my daughter, it felt like I had the whole world. Men—they’re like passing clouds. Let them drift away.

We settled on a small farm abroad and began a new life together. The days were peaceful.

That day, a close coworker from the firm sent me a video about Selena. The moment I opened it, Nate’s face filled the screen. He looked dazed, distracted, like something was gnawing at him. In his hand was a resignation letter. Just as he was about to turn to the second page, Selena walked up behind him. She snatched it away, tossing it aside.

“Nate, stop looking at these irrelevant things.”

I watched from a life he no longer touched. Selena handed Nate a document. She leaned in close on purpose. Her cheek brushed his. Then she grabbed his hand. He quietly pulled his hand back. I could tell he was irritated. He took the document and began to read. A few pages in, his brow furrowed deeply.

“Nothing here is compelling,” he straightened in his chair. “You got the firm name wrong. Details show Ricker. How could you miss this?” The more he read, the darker his expression grew. At last, he slammed the document onto the desk. “Who put this together? It’s total garbage.”

“I—I did.” Nate froze. The fury got stuck in his throat. She was on the verge of tears. He seemed buried in weary frustration. “Selena, you went to a top school. You can draft a solid proposal, but this is not presentable.”

He brought me up almost without thinking. “Look at Christine. She has no degree. She taught herself law. Her work is structured, focused, clear.”

Selena didn’t take it well. Instead of reflecting, she burst into tears, her voice quivering. “Stop comparing me to Christine all the time. Those proposals she wrote—she probably used AI. There’s no way she did them herself.” With that, she stormed off in a fury. The door was slammed with a loud bang.

The office door was wide open. Everyone saw what happened, but no one dared speak. The room was steeped in silence. Nate’s expression was grim. He didn’t chase after her. Instead, he sank heavily onto the couch and rubbed his forehead, visibly worn out. He was the head of the firm. Selena let personal emotions bleed into work. She showed attitude towards her boss. Of course, he was upset.

My former colleague sent this clip. She complained about Selena’s incompetence. She relies too much on connections, always trying to take shortcuts. She even made a bet—how long could Nate put up with Selena? I didn’t respond, just sent back a smiling emoji and left it at that.

Back then, Nate used to scold me all the time. But I knew it was because he wanted me to improve, so I listened, took his criticism seriously, and worked hard to get better. I only made it to high school before my parents were gone. With no degree, I had to take whatever job I could—cleaning work mostly—just to survive. But I wasn’t afraid of hard work. I wanted a better life, so I started teaching myself the law. I clung to Nate like a shadow, pestering him to teach me. At first, he hated it. He rejected me over and over. Still, I humbled myself and kept asking. A year later, I’d finally made some progress. Whatever legal problem he threw my way, I could come up with a solution. I became his best assistant. I had finally earned my place. For once, I thought effort could change everything.

But an accident shattered all of this. Everything I built began to crack, and nothing was ever the same. Because of that drunken night, all my hard work went down the drain. Since then, he believed I got drunk on purpose—that I climbed into bed with him to seduce him. Even though he didn’t remember a thing, he blamed me for scheming. “You trapped me.” All the praise turned to resentment. The more he admired me, the more he came to despise me. For the sake of the child, he married me, but without love. His heart had always belonged to Selena. That’s the love he chose to chase.

Lately, Nate has been calling me every day, which he never did before. Only now, it’s me who no longer wants to answer his calls.

His law firm hosts a monthly charity live stream. I used to be his co-host for every single one. After I left, it was clear who his new co-host would be. There he was, still sharp, still handsome. Everything he said drew praise from viewers. And yes, standing beside him was Selena. I smiled bitterly, but there wasn’t much sadness in my heart. Things have finally returned to where they should be. They can be together openly now.

Someone asked a question about self-defense laws and homicide. Out of nowhere, Selena interrupted to share her opinion. She claimed that killing in self-defense was still premeditated murder and shouldn’t be considered self-defense at all—that it should be punishable by death.

Viewers immediately pushed back. But instead of backing down, she took it personally. She started accusing the viewers of disrespecting her. She then started arguing with them. Nate kept glancing at her, signaling with his eyes to stop. He even tried to grab her arm, gently tugging at it to get her to be quiet. But she ignored him and kept talking. The live stream chat spiraled into chaos, flooded with insults. It got so bad that the platform issued a violation warning.

As the comments grew more vicious, Nate finally lost it. “Enough.” He covered her mouth with his hand and tried to pull her away from the camera. But she was furious. She shoved him off. “Nate, they’re all attacking me. You should be defending me.”

Nate let out a helpless sigh. He tried to reason with Selena. “The viewers weren’t insulting you. They were just pointing things out.”

Selena shot back, voice trembling. “They called me brainless, impulsive, shallow, and selfish. How is that not insulting me?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I was just defending myself. Why won’t you defend me?” She broke down, throwing a tantrum.

Nate looked exhausted. His face revealed a trace of open disdain, but he couldn’t lose his temper here. He had to bite it back, swallowing every word like broken glass. “Fine, it’s my fault.”

Without a word, he ended the stream. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. A perfect stream derailed by Selena. Drowned in chaos. Nate, the professional attorney, had been thoroughly humiliated.

The fallout was inevitable. And sure enough, it came fast. Online threads buzzed with criticism. Selena had no professionalism. Some people said they missed me. They missed my sharp mind. Viewers flooded Nate’s inbox, asking him to bring me back.

But Nate—he stayed silent, deep in his own thoughts, refusing to say a single word. The silence was deafening.

The colleague forwarded me a clip after the live stream ended: Selena throwing herself into Nate’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I watched Nate push her away, disappointment heavy in his gaze. He said just one thing: “I thought you were smart, but you’re just a fool. No awareness, no tact. You’re getting more unbearable by the day.” And with that, he left her behind. Practically fleeing the scene.

I was surprised. Had the magic of his devotion and love worn off? Not that it mattered to me anymore. How he dealt with Selena was no longer my concern.

I glanced at my phone. There was still a connection to the home surveillance system. I opened it one last time to wipe the memory and prepare to uninstall the app. Before doing that, I downloaded the old videos—clips of our daughter. I wanted to keep those. While scrolling, the real-time feed blinked on by accident.

Nate had come home. He was drunk and staggering. “Christine,” he called out, voice echoing through the empty house. “My stomach hurts. Make me some soup.” He shouted my name again, louder this time. But no answer came.

I watched him for the very last time. The past was finally being erased. His voice could no longer reach me. A world away from his chaos, the silence here was peaceful. The end of a story that no longer matters.

Before uninstalling it, I opened the live feed. Nate finally felt panicked. “Christine, make me soup.” He walked through the house room by room. They were empty. And finally, it hit him. We were gone. I’d taken our daughter and left.

He made his way to the dining table. Then froze. He picked up my cartoon print cup—the cup I used to drink from. He stared at it for a long time. Then, strangely, he smiled. A soft, indulgent smile. Then he pulled out his phone and called me. I didn’t pick up. A moment later, a voice message came through. He thought I was still angry. His words were sweetened and careful. “Where are you and our daughter staying? I’ll come see you both tomorrow. I’ll bring your favorite food.”

I blocked him from the screen. I saw his face darken. Crash. The cup hit the floor. Broke into tiny sharp pieces. He saw I’d blocked him and removed him. Then with sudden clarity, he called Sam. When the call connected, he asked fast. “Why didn’t Christine join the last live stream?”

Sam was half asleep. “She resigned. She handed in her resignation a while ago.” Nate’s eyes went wide, stunned. “Yeah, I tried to get her to stay, but she was determined. Said she was going to find her husband. I had no reason to stop her.”

Nate’s face darkened like spilled ink. His eyes simmered with anger. The veins stood out on his hand. Then he let out a cold laugh. “Oh? And since when does she have another husband?”

Sam was speechless. Nate snapped. His voice rose. “How could you approve her resignation? I’m the boss. Resignations need my sign-off.”

Before he could finish, a child’s voice cut in. “Daddy, who are you talking to? Why aren’t you in bed?” Nate froze. Sam replied gently, his tone completely different. “I’m almost done. Be good and go to sleep.” In the background, he patted his child’s back.

Nate stood there, stunned. A few seconds passed. Then he slowly ended the call. Then a light seemed to switch on inside him. He murmured to himself, “I had a family, too. But I guess I let it slip through my fingers.”

That night, he sat on the floor in silence. His face was unreadable. He was weighed down by more than regret. He didn’t move until dawn. When he finally got up, he caught a package on the shoe cabinet. He paused. Curious. He tore it open. His expression shifted slowly. First blank, then pained.

It was the divorce papers I’d sent him. He’d received the package days ago and tossed it aside like it didn’t matter. Just like he had my resignation letter the other day—interrupted by Selena, left unread and forgotten. The folded slip fell from his hands, landing on the floor. The words “Divorce Agreement” stared back at him, bold and clear. Our signatures were right there.

He slid down against the wall as if the weight of it all was too much. His eyes turned red before the tears could even fall. He whispered, “Christine, you really—you’re really leaving me?”

Watching him like this, I was surprised. Hadn’t he stopped loving me a long time ago? Why now, of all times, did he look like someone hollowed out from the inside? Maybe he never imagined I’d actually leave. Maybe he thought I’d always be there, like a shadow, like an echo. And now that I was gone, he didn’t know how to function without me. Of course, I’d been at his side for years. To him, I’d become part of the background—only noticeable now in my absence.

Just then, the front door opened. Selena stepped inside. “Nate, what’s wrong?” When Selena saw Nate sitting there on the ground, she rushed over in alarm and tried to help him up. He pushed her away, looked her straight in the eye. “Selena, I don’t like you,” he said clearly.

She stared at him, stunned. Heartbreak was written all over her face. “You’re joking, right? I know you’re mad at me.” She began to cry, her voice cracking. “It was childish of me to lash out during the stream. I know I was wrong, really.”

But Nate just shook his head. He took a deep breath. “Ever since Christine left, I keep dreaming of her and our daughter walking away. That image—it hurts like hell. And with it comes regret. So much of it. These past few days, Christine’s face keeps appearing in my mind. And only now do I realize I’ve fallen in love with her. She’s my wife. Alyssa is our daughter. We were just keeping it private.”

He stood ready to leave, but Selena stepped in front of him, blocking his way, sobbing uncontrollably. “Don’t go. Tell me you’re lying. Please tell me this isn’t real.”

But this time, there was no trace of pity left on Nate’s face. His expression was grim, his eyes sharp and cold enough to freeze her in place. He spoke each word like a final verdict. “I’m not lying to you. I’ve fallen in love with her. I’m going to find her.”

With that, he shoved her aside and walked out.

I turned off the surveillance feed. My whole body felt numb, frozen in place. Then, suddenly, I let out a soft, incredulous laugh. It’s unbelievable. Feelings really are strange things. I never would have guessed that without realizing it, the one who couldn’t let go of me was him. He was the one leaving for another country. He was the one coming to find me. He didn’t treasure me while I was there. Only after I left did he realize what he’d lost. But what good does that do now?

I was already in Norway. One morning, I dropped Alyssa off at school as usual, then returned home to tend the flowers and vegetables in my garden. Honestly, I should thank Nate for being generous with money. Because of that, I now have enough savings and live comfortably without working another day.

As I watered the plants, a tall figure suddenly appeared in front of me. My body went rigid. I didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. “Christine.” The familiar, intimate way he said my name made my whole body tremble. Nate had come.

I turned around and looked at him. He looked worn out. One of the gossipy lawyers at the firm told me that after I left, he’d gone half mad searching for me. When he couldn’t find me back home, he went abroad. Country after country, nearly searching the whole world. He looked rough, yes, but still handsome. That face was what had fooled me once.

No one knew that the reason I applied for that job in the first place was just so I could see him every day. But I had no looks, no degree, no family name—only a heart that beat for him. I chased after him with everything I had. It was painful, humiliating at times, but I endured it all just to be near him. By sheer will, I became his most trusted assistant, the one always by his side.

And yet, he destroyed all of that in a single night. Pushed me down to the bottom and left me there to freeze for eight long years. I’ve been through disappointment, through pain, and finally, I found peace.

I gave a small smile and gestured to a nearby bench. “Have a seat.” His eyes lit up. He walked over and sat beside me. I poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him. He took it with both hands, eyes never leaving mine. His voice was low, edged with something raw. “I thought you’d never speak to me again.”

I raised an eyebrow, answering calmly. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re still the father of my child. I have to leave you at least some dignity.” Then I looked him straight in the eye. My tone shifted, firm, like I was back in court. “You’ve seen the divorce papers. I don’t want your money. I only want custody of our daughter.”

His face darkened, voice chilled. “Christine, I won’t divorce you.”

I’d expected that. I let out a soft laugh, my tone still calm. “That’s fine. We’ll go through legal channels. Don’t forget, I used to be your legal assistant. I’ve handled plenty of divorce cases.”

With a sudden clatter, he slammed the teacup down. The force of it shattered the porcelain. Tea spilled across the table. We both stood up at the same time. “Christine, don’t leave me. I realized it too late. Let me love you. Give me a chance to make things right.”

But I stayed still, unmoved. “It’s too late. I’m tired.”

His brows furrowed as he stepped closer. “Eight years ago, you crawled into my bed, got pregnant, and married me. And now you want to walk away. Is this some kind of push-and-pull game?”

I stared at him in disbelief. I thought he finally understood. But the way he saw me was still just as selfish as ever. “Nate, you really haven’t changed at all. So, I’ve always been a scheming woman in your eyes,” I said quietly. But I wasn’t disappointed. More than that, I was seeing through it all. He was such a proud man. How could he ever truly bow his head for a woman?

“Nate, did it ever occur to you that I was the one who was hurt that night?”

He stepped closer and I stepped back slowly until I had nowhere left to retreat. Leaning against the wall, I stopped. “What do you mean?”

I said nothing. My mind drifted back to that night. Nate, drunk, was being steadied by me. I helped him to his room. I took off his clothes, tucked him in, then turned to leave. But just as I reached the door, he grabbed my arm. He pulled me back and closed in. His eyes were glazed. His face was flushed with a feverish haze. I understood instantly. He’d been drugged.

“Nate, wake up. You’ve been drugged. You need to go to the hospital right now.” I struggled with all my might to get away, but it was useless. What chance did a woman’s strength have against a man’s? He overpowered me while he was lost in that haze. That night, every boundary was broken. It was a painful experience—not a pleasant one.

He had forgotten, but I remembered everything. And now he finally had to hear it. Though I loved him, I never wanted to be with him like that under those circumstances. It happened. Afterwards, I had no choice but to accept it. But he remembered nothing. When he woke to find me naked beside him, he kicked me off the bed and called me shameless. I told myself it wasn’t intentional, that he’d forgotten. But the silence, the coldness, the ignoring over eight years—that was deliberate.

“Say it,” he urged me when I stayed silent. I pushed him away and my gaze turned cold. “If you want to know the truth, go find it yourself. Suddenly, I don’t want to uncover it anymore because it’s completely meaningless. Nate, it’s over. Please don’t come back to disturb my life.”

With that, I pushed past his heavy gaze and walked to the bedroom.

Nate left. Before he went, he stopped at the door and said, “Even if you take me to court, I won’t agree to the divorce. And as for the truth from eight years ago, I’ll find it out.”

“Suit yourself.” I didn’t care whether he actually did or not.

He was gone and the pressure lifted from me. I stayed in Norway focusing on my life and my daughter. I still filed for divorce repeatedly, even when my petitions were denied again and again. Over time, my feelings about him leveled out. He became just a minor chapter in my life.

I started trying to date other men, and it was fun. By the eighth year, when he’d forbidden Alyssa from calling him dad, she stopped caring. She forgot the bitterness he brought. I had suitors along the way and enjoyed feeling loved. But when someone proposed, I said, “No, not now.” Marriage felt like a cage—one I wasn’t ready to step into lightly.

Nate came to Norway from time to time to see our daughter. I understood he wanted to mend things with her. Since she wasn’t resistant, I didn’t oppose it. It’s natural because they share blood. Later, Nate seemed to uncover the truth. He called me, apologizing over and over, and even sent a large amount of money. I ignored him except for accepting the child support.

Meanwhile, I kept dating, searching for someone I’d be willing to marry again—someone who could truly be my love. I had finally found inner peace. The past was truly over. I wasn’t hiding anymore. Every day was a new beginning.

His regret meant nothing to me now. I am ready for the right person. Searching for my true love in my own way.