Model Wife's Secret Performances - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading Model Wife's Secret Performances, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of Model Wife's Secret Performances.
When I came to, an entire day had vanished.
I was in a hospital bed, with Sophia slumped over the edge, half-asleep. She stirred when she realized I was awake, lifting her head with a groggy blink.
"Baby, you're up!"
I clutched my bandaged head, pain splitting through my skull like a hammer.
Then it all came rushing back—the nightmare, the betrayal—sending my pulse into overdrive.
"Get the hell away from me! Don't touch me—you make me sick!"
I shoved her hard, sending her stumbling to the floor.
But she didn't back down. Scrambling up, she reached for me again, voice trembling. "Sweetheart, it's okay… it's over now…"
Her fingers tightened around mine, soft, pleading.
All I felt was white-hot fury.
"Don't call me that—it's disgusting! You conniving liar, how could you do this to me?"
I tried to lunge up, but my body betrayed me—weak, dizzy, collapsing back onto the mattress like a ragdoll.
Tears spilled down Sophia's cheeks, her face raw with desperation.
"Please, baby, just listen to me! I never wanted to lie—I had no choice!"
"It was years ago, before I knew better. All I want now is a life with you…"
I almost laughed.
A life?
Hadn't I given her everything?
Every paycheck, every comfort—she could've lived like a queen without lifting a finger.
But no. She swore a woman needed independence, needed to "stay relevant."
Fine. I let her chase her career.
But that didn't give her the right to play me for a fool.
"We're done. Let's just divorce. Before I say something I regret."
The words tasted like ash.
Memories flickered—her laugh, her warmth, all those nights tangled together.
But none of it was real. I was just the idiot who fell for the act.
Thud.
Sophia dropped to her knees beside the bed.
"Please, just hear me out! I was trapped! After everything we've been through, don't you know how much I love you?"
I wasn't going to listen.
But then I saw her—dark circles, bloodshot eyes, the same exhausted look she'd had when I was hospitalized last year.
Back then, everyone told me I'd hit the jackpot.
"A wife like that? You must've saved a damn planet in another life."
"...Fine. Stop crying. Talk."
As she spilled the story, the vise around my chest loosened, just a little.
A payday loan in college. Interest spiraling out of control. Desperation driving her into modeling, then worse—body art, just to stay afloat.
"I was stupid, I was scared! Meeting you was my second chance, but they wouldn't let me go. They had photos, videos… threats."
"I swear, this was the last time. My debt's gone. It's over."
Her sobs shook the room, regret pouring out of her.
I sat there, numb, torn between pity and fury.
After an eternity of silence, I dragged in a breath.
"You're sure? No more lies?"
She nodded wildly, swearing on everything—she was done, free, never going back.
I exhaled, the anger draining out of me like poison.
She was still my wife.
And if I walked away now, who else would give her that chance?
I was in a hospital bed, with Sophia slumped over the edge, half-asleep. She stirred when she realized I was awake, lifting her head with a groggy blink.
"Baby, you're up!"
I clutched my bandaged head, pain splitting through my skull like a hammer.
Then it all came rushing back—the nightmare, the betrayal—sending my pulse into overdrive.
"Get the hell away from me! Don't touch me—you make me sick!"
I shoved her hard, sending her stumbling to the floor.
But she didn't back down. Scrambling up, she reached for me again, voice trembling. "Sweetheart, it's okay… it's over now…"
Her fingers tightened around mine, soft, pleading.
All I felt was white-hot fury.
"Don't call me that—it's disgusting! You conniving liar, how could you do this to me?"
I tried to lunge up, but my body betrayed me—weak, dizzy, collapsing back onto the mattress like a ragdoll.
Tears spilled down Sophia's cheeks, her face raw with desperation.
"Please, baby, just listen to me! I never wanted to lie—I had no choice!"
"It was years ago, before I knew better. All I want now is a life with you…"
I almost laughed.
A life?
Hadn't I given her everything?
Every paycheck, every comfort—she could've lived like a queen without lifting a finger.
But no. She swore a woman needed independence, needed to "stay relevant."
Fine. I let her chase her career.
But that didn't give her the right to play me for a fool.
"We're done. Let's just divorce. Before I say something I regret."
The words tasted like ash.
Memories flickered—her laugh, her warmth, all those nights tangled together.
But none of it was real. I was just the idiot who fell for the act.
Thud.
Sophia dropped to her knees beside the bed.
"Please, just hear me out! I was trapped! After everything we've been through, don't you know how much I love you?"
I wasn't going to listen.
But then I saw her—dark circles, bloodshot eyes, the same exhausted look she'd had when I was hospitalized last year.
Back then, everyone told me I'd hit the jackpot.
"A wife like that? You must've saved a damn planet in another life."
"...Fine. Stop crying. Talk."
As she spilled the story, the vise around my chest loosened, just a little.
A payday loan in college. Interest spiraling out of control. Desperation driving her into modeling, then worse—body art, just to stay afloat.
"I was stupid, I was scared! Meeting you was my second chance, but they wouldn't let me go. They had photos, videos… threats."
"I swear, this was the last time. My debt's gone. It's over."
Her sobs shook the room, regret pouring out of her.
I sat there, numb, torn between pity and fury.
After an eternity of silence, I dragged in a breath.
"You're sure? No more lies?"
She nodded wildly, swearing on everything—she was done, free, never going back.
I exhaled, the anger draining out of me like poison.
She was still my wife.
And if I walked away now, who else would give her that chance?
End of Model Wife's Secret Performances Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Model Wife's Secret Performances book page.