My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER.
The plane climbed higher, and I pressed my forehead against the cool window, watching the city shrink beneath me. For the first time in years, I could finally breathe. I was free.
I'd escaped the prison I'd called home for far too long.
What would Mark's face look like when he read my message? Shock? Relief? Probably relief. The golden boy was finally rid of his ball and chain.
My mind drifted like the clouds outside, back to when we were the couple everyone envied - perfect partners in love and work. When I'd defied my family to marry him, he'd held me close and whispered, "I'll never let you down. I'll be your family now."
How hollow those words sounded now. I could still see his text in the family group chat: "Relax, she's a runaway bride. She'll get over it. Just gotta freeze her out for a few days, then graciously forgive her. That'll teach her to act up again."
When did his affection turn into this smug certainty that I'd never leave? Or maybe he'd always known - known I'd never walk away.
The thought made my blood run cold. I shut my eyes, forcing myself to sleep.
If love doesn't lift you up but drags you down, it's not love worth keeping. Cutting ties was the only sane choice.
The joke was on Mark - he never saw this coming.
I woke to the plane's wheels touching down. Following the crowd through arrivals, I spotted a handmade sign bobbing above the waiting crowd: "Welcome Home, Princess!" The crooked, childlike letters made my lips curve despite myself.
Then my brother came barreling through the crowd, crushing me in a bear hug. "Jesus, you're skin and bones!"
His words broke the dam. Tears I'd held back for years came flooding out.
"You've been through hell, little sister." My sister-in-law appeared beside us, balancing my six-year-old nephew on her hip as she wiped my cheeks with gentle fingers.
My brother's jaw clenched. "That bastard Mark better hope I never see him -"
"Enough," my sister-in-law cut in, squeezing my hand. "You're safe now. This family protects its own."
I nodded through tears, another one splashing onto my wrist. I'd never told them about Mark. But the truth was written in my hollow cheeks, in the deadness behind my eyes.
Or maybe it was that twin intuition - my brother's eyes had been red-rimmed from the moment he saw me. "You should've come home sooner," he growled. "After the wedding, you just... disappeared. Wouldn't give us your address, wouldn't let us visit. Do you have any idea how many nights we lay awake worrying about you over there?"
Guilt twisted in my gut. All those years pouring myself into Mark's career, working through holidays, canceling every vacation. Never once coming home.
And Mark? He knew I had family who loved me. Yet not once did he suggest I visit them.
He didn't care. He never had.
I'd escaped the prison I'd called home for far too long.
What would Mark's face look like when he read my message? Shock? Relief? Probably relief. The golden boy was finally rid of his ball and chain.
My mind drifted like the clouds outside, back to when we were the couple everyone envied - perfect partners in love and work. When I'd defied my family to marry him, he'd held me close and whispered, "I'll never let you down. I'll be your family now."
How hollow those words sounded now. I could still see his text in the family group chat: "Relax, she's a runaway bride. She'll get over it. Just gotta freeze her out for a few days, then graciously forgive her. That'll teach her to act up again."
When did his affection turn into this smug certainty that I'd never leave? Or maybe he'd always known - known I'd never walk away.
The thought made my blood run cold. I shut my eyes, forcing myself to sleep.
If love doesn't lift you up but drags you down, it's not love worth keeping. Cutting ties was the only sane choice.
The joke was on Mark - he never saw this coming.
I woke to the plane's wheels touching down. Following the crowd through arrivals, I spotted a handmade sign bobbing above the waiting crowd: "Welcome Home, Princess!" The crooked, childlike letters made my lips curve despite myself.
Then my brother came barreling through the crowd, crushing me in a bear hug. "Jesus, you're skin and bones!"
His words broke the dam. Tears I'd held back for years came flooding out.
"You've been through hell, little sister." My sister-in-law appeared beside us, balancing my six-year-old nephew on her hip as she wiped my cheeks with gentle fingers.
My brother's jaw clenched. "That bastard Mark better hope I never see him -"
"Enough," my sister-in-law cut in, squeezing my hand. "You're safe now. This family protects its own."
I nodded through tears, another one splashing onto my wrist. I'd never told them about Mark. But the truth was written in my hollow cheeks, in the deadness behind my eyes.
Or maybe it was that twin intuition - my brother's eyes had been red-rimmed from the moment he saw me. "You should've come home sooner," he growled. "After the wedding, you just... disappeared. Wouldn't give us your address, wouldn't let us visit. Do you have any idea how many nights we lay awake worrying about you over there?"
Guilt twisted in my gut. All those years pouring myself into Mark's career, working through holidays, canceling every vacation. Never once coming home.
And Mark? He knew I had family who loved me. Yet not once did he suggest I visit them.
He didn't care. He never had.
End of My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER book page.