Wife Or Mistress? The Shocking Truth About My Marriage - Chapter 61: Chapter 61

"Emma, why won’t you believe me?"
"That child can’t be mine. I made her take the abortion—"
Elon suddenly stopped, realizing he’d slipped.
Lovers’ words are always lies.
The night the paternity test came back—99.9999%—I felt no pain, only calm. I asked for a divorce, even feeling a strange sense of relief.
But the gentle, kind Elon I knew vanished. He became cold and stubborn again.
"Emma, ask for anything—but not a divorce."
His dark gaze made me uneasy. I stared at the marriage certificate and wedding video Stacy had sent.
The bride smiling in the photos was Stacy, not me.
Had Elon and I even married? Why couldn’t I remember?
Elon always said I forgot things, that my overthinking was a sign of my worsening condition.
The drawers filled with pills, and my health grew unstable. I often woke in the night, terrified.
In my dreams, I was eighteen again, bullied and helpless, while Elon watched coldly from the sidelines.
The need to escape grew stronger.
Every night, I woke drenched in sweat in his arms, panicked and repulsed.
Only when he drugged me could I sleep.
On our anniversary, I played along, obediently meeting his demands.
Once he drank the spiked wine and fell asleep, I slipped out.
A light rain fell as I left the slums, taking a cab to the hospital.
But the staff had changed. I called out grandpa’s name, only to find his bed empty.
"Patient B127 passed away last month on the fifteenth. Didn’t you receive the notice? Your husband claimed the body."