Three years after our wedding, and Jaxson still hadn’t made it legal. He kept putting off signing the marriage license. Tonight, I heard him through the haze of a drunken party, his voice raw as he confessed to a friend. "Ava was kidnapped, man. I just… I feel like she's tainted." His next words were a whisper, but they hit me like a physical blow. "Her family's bankrupt now, you know? And she has no idea my company is about to go public." My blood ran cold, freezing me in place. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Then, I watched as he casually pulled another woman into his lap, his lips tracing a path down to her stomach. She was a singer from the bar, young and impossibly beautiful. As I stood there, stunned, my phone buzzed. A friend request. I opened it to see a photo of an ultrasound. The message attached was pure venom: You tainted little thing. What have you got that I don't? What Jaxson didn't know, what no one knew, was that I was never kidnapped. Three years ago, I was an undercover operative on a high-stakes, top-secret rescue mission. My fingers, shaking, typed a message to my father. “Dad, where’s that private island of yours? Time to send the jet.” The day I finally walk away from Jaxson will be the day my secrets, and the truth of what happened that night, are finally brought to light. 1 The family photo album on the shelf felt unusually thick. I slid my fingers into the back sleeve and pulled out what was hidden inside: an ultrasound photo. Scrawled on the back in Jaxson’s handwriting were the words, "Hello, little one. Daddy loves you." The address on the clinic's letterhead led me to a sleek, low-lit lounge downtown. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. Jaxson—my Jaxson, who prided himself on his respectable, academic family, on his propriety—was leaning back on a plush sofa, his shirt unbuttoned, letting some woman smear her lipstick all over his chest. He always told me I was graceful, composed, the perfect wife. It seems that title was just a cage to keep me in, while he roamed free. His friends gave them a wide berth, a silent understanding passing between them as the two whispered and kissed. I could just make out their low chatter over the music. "I thought Jaxson was head-over-heels for his wife? Guess our Mia has him wrapped around her little finger now." "Well, Mia gave him three years of her life, and she was untouched. She's the one who's been hurting." "So why won't he just divorce the other one? Give Mia the life she deserves." "Shh! Don't even go there. Word is, he never even signed the papers with that… damaged girl." "Damaged? Ooh, spill the tea…" I huddled in a dark corner, the hood of my sweatshirt pulled low, a ghost in their world of secrets. Across the room, on that velvet sofa, Jaxson and the singer—Mia—were wrapped around each other. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping her, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones. Mia’s face was flushed, but even in their passionate embrace, she found a moment to twist the knife. My phone lit up with another text from her. Ava, do you know why he hasn't touched you in three years? Because you're tainted. He told me. Every time he looks at you, all he can picture is what happened that night you were gone. I stared at the dark screen, my whole body trembling. So that was it. That was the real reason he’d been dragging his feet. Three years ago, I’d received a coded message activating me for a rescue operation. The task force knew about my training, my background—they knew everything. It coincided with a string of kidnappings in the city, so I let myself be taken to infiltrate the group. I got the girls out. All of them. But the ringleader escaped and is still at large, which is why I could never show Jaxson the mission footage as proof. I told him, over and over, that nothing happened to me that night. That I was still me. I even had some of the other rescued women vouch for me, but he refused to believe it. Once a seed of doubt takes root, it's impossible to pull it out. Now, watching them, my heart felt like it had been ground to dust. I was done. Tired of trying, tired of loving. Mia, however, was a master multitasker. Her body was still coiled around Jaxson, yet she was texting me again. Oh, and I forgot to tell you. I'm pregnant. He said he's going to make things official with me as soon as the baby starts showing. Then you'll just be the pathetic other woman. Haha. Pregnant. The other woman. The words swam in my tear-filled eyes. I slammed back a shot of tequila, then another, a part of me wanting to march over there and throw a drink in their faces. But my body wouldn't obey. I was frozen, trembling, unable to even form a word. At the table next to mine, one of Jaxson’s drunk friends got bold. He shouted across the room, "Jaxson, my man! If you don't have the guts to tell Ava, we'll do it for you! Can't let Mia and the baby be treated like this!" Jaxson’s arms, which had been wrapped around Mia, suddenly dropped. Her face fell, and she shot the friend a venomous look. But Jaxson simply stood up. He calmly straightened his shirt, walked over to his friend, and punched him squarely in the jaw. His voice was ice. "Don't you ever talk about my wife like that. Anyone who brings this up with her will have to deal with me." He sidestepped Mia’s attempt to cling to him, his eyes suddenly clear and sober. "That's enough for tonight. I have to get home to Ava." And with that, he turned and walked out of the bar. Mia stared after him, her face a mask of disbelief and fury, before collapsing onto the table in a storm of sobs. I watched it all unfold with a cold, hollow laugh. My heart was finally, blessedly, calm. My father’s reply came quickly. What's wrong, pumpkin? Is your husband coming too? Did you tell him about the island? I typed back: No. Just me. The three dots appeared and disappeared for a long time before his final message came through. Got it. Give your old man three days. I’m coming to bring my princess home. 2 When I got home, the table was set with a warm, three-course meal. Jaxson, wearing an apron, knelt to take off my shoes, then scooped me into his arms and set me down at the table. He'd even laid out a warm, damp towel for me to wash my hands. He’d already changed into his pajamas, and his freshly laundered shirt was hanging by the window, all traces of the bar—and Mia—gone. Everything was just as it always was. There wasn't a single shred of evidence of his betrayal. He was playing the part of the perfect, doting husband. The only thing he never did was share my bed. I remembered one night, not long after the "kidnapping." Jaxson had come home drunk and pushed me down onto the bed. But before I could even unbutton my shirt, he’d clapped a hand over his mouth and bolted for the bathroom. When he came out, he leaned against the wall, looking weak. "Honey, I'm sorry. I had too much to drink. I couldn't hold it down. Let's... let's save our first night for after we make it official." He went to the study that night and had slept there ever since. Three years. Three years of a beautifully crafted lie that had completely fooled me. It wasn't the alcohol that made him sick. It was me. The thought of me, the idea of touching me, disgusted him. Now, he held a piece of food up to my lips with his chopsticks, his eyes full of loving expectation. I stared at him, and suddenly, a wave of nausea rolled through me. I shot up and ran to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet. Jaxson rushed in after me, his face etched with worry. "Ava! What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?" "I'm fine," I said, my voice cold and distant. "Just had a little too much to drink with my coworkers." He had no idea that now, it was him who made me sick. The next day, I composed myself and went to the hospital to quit my job. I was just a nurse; a big hospital like this wouldn't even notice I was gone. As I was walking out with a box of my personal belongings, Jaxson burst through the doors, frantically supporting Mia. "Doctor! Someone, help! You have to check on her, check on my wife and our baby!" He was in such a panic that he slammed right into me, knocking my box to the floor. When he saw it was me, his face went deathly pale. He completely forgot about Mia, who was being helped away by other nurses. He stammered, his words tripping over each other. "Ava, honey, don't misunderstand. She's… she’s the wife of a friend. He’s out of town, and I was so worried I just… I said she was my wife in the heat of the moment." I knelt, picking up my scattered things, my voice flat. "Right. I understand." He finally noticed the box in my hands. His brow furrowed. "Ava, did you quit?" I didn't answer. He took the heavy box from me. "It's for the best," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "I can support ten of you now without breaking a sweat. From now on, you can just stay home and enjoy life." He was about to walk me out when a nurse called after him. "Sir? Mr. Jaxson? We need your signature for Mia’s admission forms." He looked at me, torn. I looked up and managed a small smile. "Go on." Seeing me smile seemed to reassure him, and he hurried off. That night, a text from Mia. She wanted to meet me at the bar. When I arrived, Jaxson was, of course, already there. Mia, looking pale and fragile after her scare at the hospital, stood on the small stage. She looked right at us and announced she was going to sing a song to thank us for our help. The song she sang was a heartbreaking ballad of unrequited love, every note, every word, a declaration of her love for Jaxson. In their world, in this bar, I was the villain. The audience erupted in applause as she finished and made her way to our table. Jaxson was busy excitedly showing me the "proper" way to drink tequila. Mia sat down, placing a hand on her stomach with a small, knowing smile. "You know, Jaxson hardly ever used to drink. I was the one who taught him all about tequila." I met her gaze. Jaxson had nearly destroyed his stomach with alcohol-fueled stress during his startup phase. I had no idea what she thought she was gloating about. "Oh, really? Well, Miss Mia, you certainly seem to be an expert on the nightlife scene. You know so much." Her face went white. She looked helplessly at Jaxson, who suddenly stood up, mumbling about needing the restroom. The second he was gone, Mia dropped the act. Her voice was pure acid. "Don't you dare talk down to me, Ava. Everyone knows Jaxson can't stand to touch you. I may have worked in a bar, but I've only ever been with him. You, on the other hand… a whole night with your kidnappers. Tsk, tsk. We all know what that means." A slow smile spread across my face. "Don't be so quick to judge, Mia. Yes, I was held for a night. But I seem to recall seeing a woman in the kidnapper’s back room… acting like a little dog for them. Funny, now that I think about it, she looked an awful lot like you." Mia shot to her feet, her lips trembling. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! You have no proof! Don't you dare slander me!" Her panic was all the confirmation I needed. But I wasn't going to expose her just yet. That would be far too boring. Seeing my silence, she seemed to relax. Just then, Jaxson started walking back from the restroom. In a sudden, dramatic move, Mia grabbed a shot glass and threw back a gulp of tequila. By the time Jaxson reached the table, she was hunched over, retching. "Oh, Ava," she cried, looking up with tear-filled eyes. "A pregnant woman really shouldn't drink. Please don't force me. I swear, there's nothing going on between me and Jaxson." Jaxson’s gaze on me turned to ice. For the first time in our entire relationship, he yelled at me. "Ava! Did you just force a pregnant woman to drink?" I raised an eyebrow. "I did no such thing. Are you going to believe her, or are you going to believe me?" Jaxson scoffed. "What pregnant woman would risk her own baby's life just to make a point? I never knew you could be so vicious, so consumed by jealousy." I stood up. There was a full glass of tequila still on the table. I picked it up, threw its contents squarely in Jaxson's face, and walked out without a word. 3 I walked home, the cool night air doing little to calm the fire in my chest. When I arrived, the front door was wide open. The moment I stepped inside, Jaxson's mother hurled a teacup at my feet, where it shattered into a hundred pieces. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in! How dare you lay a hand on my son, you worthless girl!" I was confused. When had I hit Jaxson? Then his father shoved a phone in my face. It was a video of me, just moments ago, throwing the drink at Jaxson in the bar. A quick glance at the chat history confirmed my suspicion. Mia had sent it to them. Jaxson's younger sister looked me up and down with utter contempt. "Ava, you were defiled three years ago. It was my brother's love and pity that made him marry you. And this is how you repay him? You ungrateful bitch, now you're physically attacking him?" His parents sat on the sofa like a king and queen on their thrones, their eyes boring into me. "Our family has been respected for generations," his mother sneered. "We ignored all the gossip and welcomed you into our home. Is this your gratitude?" "Ever since your father went bankrupt, we've been saddled with you—damaged goods. Do you have any idea how much our Jaxson has suffered?" his father added. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Respected for generations? Is that what you call letting your son cheat on his wife and marry some barfly?" "Shut your mouth!" his sister shrieked. "How dare you call my future sister-in-law a barfly! Mia may sing in a bar, but she supports herself. She doesn't rely on a man. She gave herself to my brother pure and untouched, not like a tainted creature like you." I actually snorted. "Pure and untouched? How would you know? Did you watch them?" Jaxson's father, furious, pointed a trembling finger at me. "You… you vulgar woman! Get out of my son's house!" I was about to tell them that I'd paid half for this house, and if anyone was getting out, it would be them. But before I could speak, the door opened again. It was Jaxson, helping a frail-looking Mia inside. He froze for a second when he saw everyone was there. Mia let out a little "ouch" and collapsed onto my favorite armchair, casually grabbing my pashmina to cover herself. Before I could even tell her to get her hands off it, Jaxson rushed over and snatched the scarf away. "Don't use that," he said, a look of disgust on his face. Mia’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk. "Oh, Jaxson, honey, I don't mind. It's not her fault she was... violated. It wasn't her choice…" I just stared at them, my blood turning to ice. Mia stood up, pretending to move, and "accidentally" dropped her purse. The contents spilled out, and a property deed slid across the floor. She gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh, my goodness! I'm so sorry. The deed to the gift my darling Jaxson gave me just fell out." She bent to pick it up, but I was faster. I snatched it from the floor. It was the deed to our marital home. My home. And the name on it was Mia’s. For three years, I never cared about material things. But now, he was giving the home I lived in, the one he apparently found too "dirty" for himself, to her. I held up the deed, my voice dangerously calm. "Jaxson. Do you have anything you want to say to me?" Guilt flickered in his eyes. He stammered, unable to look at me. His parents chimed in from behind him. "What are you afraid of, son? You've protected this broken thing for three years. You know what people have been saying about you. It's time to rip off the band-aid." Finally, Jaxson made his decision. He pulled Mia to his side, lacing his fingers through hers. "Ava, I'm sorry. It's just like you see. Mia and I are together. I can't keep wasting my life like this. With your family's status now, you can't be part of the Sanchez family. I hope you can understand." I stared at him, my heart a dead weight in my chest. "Jaxson, why? Just because of that night? Because you think I'm not clean anymore? But I proved to you nothing happened! If you loved me, none of this would matter—" "Enough!" he roared, cutting me off. "Ava, I said enough! It's because I loved you that I tried! I tried so hard, but I can't touch you! The thought of it makes me sick! I've seen therapists! I've been in hell for three years! Why can't you understand what I've been through?" SLAP! The sound echoed in the silent room. "You're a coward," I hissed. "If that's how you felt, you should have told me. Not betrayed me." His parents gasped, rushing forward to attack me. But this time, I was ready. I took two steps back and threw open the front door. A team of large, imposing men in dark suits filed in, forming a protective circle around me. They stared down the Sanchez family with cold, hard eyes. A smile touched my lips. "Jaxson, take your family and get out. I never want to see you again." Backed against a wall, Jaxson spat out one last threat. "This isn't over, Ava. You're the one with no money now. Let's see how long you can afford to pay these thugs. Let's see you survive without a dime of my money." I slammed the door shut on his face, feeling nothing but the cold, clean relief of finality. Outside, I could hear his mother's voice. "Hmph. Just wait. When she's broke, she'll come crawling back to our son."
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