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680words2026-01-26 11:22

In my third year of marriage to Alexander Cunningham for three years when his childhood sweetheart with depression returned to the country.
Worried that she had no one to care for her, Alexander insisted on bringing her into our home.
Everyone told me to be generous—that a sick woman couldn't possibly steal Alexander away from me.

Alexander also solemnly swore to me that he would remain one hundred percent faithful.
But slowly, things began to feel wrong.
I heard her myself, crying and pleading with Alex,
"I'm so lonely, can't you please just say you love me?"
......
Everyone said I was lucky.

I come from an ordinary background, with average education, nothing particularly special about my personality—just a pretty face that landed me a husband like Alex Cunningham.
As the sole heir to the Cunningham Group empire, he is not only talented and capable, but also has a personality and looks that are practically perfect.
More importantly, he only has eyes for me.
Countless women threw themselves at him, but he never strayed—his eyes were always only on me.

I used to think I was incredibly fortunate too, that marrying such a wonderful man was my greatest blessing.
Until Alexander brought Chloe Sinclair home.
Chloe was his childhood sweetheart, and the two shared a deep bond.
If the Sinclair family hadn't committed financial crimes and fled the country seven years ago, disappearing without a trace,
marrying Alexander Cunningham would never have been in the cards for someone like me.
Now the Sinclairs family has been caught, all relevant parties sentenced—only Chloe escaped punishiment due to her depression and Alexander paying her hefty fine.
So when Chloe stood before me, pale and pitiful, everyone urged me to accept her with an open heart.
Including my parents, relatives, and countless friends.
My mom said, "Why should women make things hard for each other? She's sick—just be understanding. Once she's better, she'll naturally leave."
My dad said, "Alexander knows his limits. He's just being soft-hearted for now. As his wife, helping him take good care of her will only make him love you more. Don't be difficult."
My friend said, "At least he brought her to you openly instead of cheating behind your back. That alone shows he's being honest. Just put up with it."
And Alexander, who never discussed it with me beforehand and made the decision on his own, looked at me guiltily, "Eleanor, you're so gracious, you understand, right?"
I watched Chloe's hand clutching tightly at Alexander's shirt hem, and slowly shook my head,
"No, I don't understand."
All I felt was a stabbing pain in my chest, as if the closest person had plunged a knife into me.
The fire of betrayal burned through me—I was furious, heartbroken, resentful, but more than anything, I felt powerless and despairing that not a single person was on my side.
I took a deep breath, struggling to control my emotions, "Chloe is an adult. Even with her illness, she should have basic self-care abilities."
Under Alexander's disappointed and Chloe's wounded gaze, I continued, "Alternatively, I can help her book the best therapist, book her into a luxury hotel suite, and hire an excellent personal assistant. I believe these arrangements would be more helpful for her recovery than moving her into our home and being cared for by you personally."
I thought my proposal was reasonable—the most balanced solution I could imagine—taking care of Chloe while protecting my marriage.
Alexander, however, looked at me with displeasure, "Eleanor, how can you be so heartless?"
"Chloe hasn't been back for so long. She doesn’t have any friends or acquaintances here anymore. What you're suggesting would just isolate her!"
I frowned, about to argue, but Alexander cut me off swiftly, "You don't need to worry about me having other intentions. After all these years of marriage, everyone knows how much I love you—and only you."
"Chloe is like a sister to me now. I just want to fulfill my duty as the boy next door who looked out for her. Can't you even accept that?"