The Man Who Truly Saw Me

The Man Who Truly Saw Me

Yi Yanni

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For fifteen years, my life revolved around Ethan Hayes. I sacrificed everything to follow him to New York, even changing myself because he liked "no-fuss" girls. Our marriage, he said, was just a practical arrangement for his company's IPO. I worked tirelessly as his Director of Operations, always hoping he'd truly see me, love me back. Then Chloe Vance arrived. She swiftly sabotaged my crucial investor presentation, leaking intimate photos, and Ethan publicly blamed me, his wife, to protect her. Hours later, I found Chloe wearing my robe, spraying my perfume, as Ethan laughed and still called me "buddy." The divorce papers he'd given me on our wedding night felt terrifyingly real. The final betrayal came when Chloe forced me to eat a super spicy dinner, knowing my sensitive stomach. Ethan threatened my team's funding if I refused. Doubled over in pain from acute gastritis, I called him, begging for help. He hung up to rush Chloe, who had a twisted ankle, to the ER. Later, after a horrific skiing accident I thought I wouldn't survive, I lay broken in the snow and asked him, "What am I to you?" His chilling reply: "Right now? A liability." Then the clinic confirmed the devastating truth: due to the fall, I had miscarried our child. His child. The man I had loved for fifteen years, the man who coldly abandoned me in my darkest hour, didn't even know. Didn't care. That was the turning point. The delusion shattered. The woman who clung to hope was gone. I signed the divorce papers, not with sorrow, but with profound clarity. My true friend, Liam, was there to pick up the pieces, ready to help me build a new life, finally free.

Introduction

For fifteen years, my life revolved around Ethan Hayes.

I sacrificed everything to follow him to New York, even changing myself because he liked "no-fuss" girls.

Our marriage, he said, was just a practical arrangement for his company's IPO.

I worked tirelessly as his Director of Operations, always hoping he'd truly see me, love me back.

Then Chloe Vance arrived.

She swiftly sabotaged my crucial investor presentation, leaking intimate photos, and Ethan publicly blamed me, his wife, to protect her.

Hours later, I found Chloe wearing my robe, spraying my perfume, as Ethan laughed and still called me "buddy."

The divorce papers he'd given me on our wedding night felt terrifyingly real.

The final betrayal came when Chloe forced me to eat a super spicy dinner, knowing my sensitive stomach.

Ethan threatened my team's funding if I refused.

Doubled over in pain from acute gastritis, I called him, begging for help.

He hung up to rush Chloe, who had a twisted ankle, to the ER.

Later, after a horrific skiing accident I thought I wouldn't survive, I lay broken in the snow and asked him, "What am I to you?"

His chilling reply: "Right now? A liability."

Then the clinic confirmed the devastating truth: due to the fall, I had miscarried our child.

His child.

The man I had loved for fifteen years, the man who coldly abandoned me in my darkest hour, didn't even know.

Didn't care.

That was the turning point.

The delusion shattered.

The woman who clung to hope was gone.

I signed the divorce papers, not with sorrow, but with profound clarity.

My true friend, Liam, was there to pick up the pieces, ready to help me build a new life, finally free.

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My Wife, My Best Friend, Their Deceit

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My best friend Kevin invited me to his dad' s 60th birthday, a big celebration because his dad had terminal cancer. My wife, Olivia, couldn't make it; she was on a two-week work trip in Europe, a crucial conference for her career. But when I arrived at the party, I saw Olivia, kneeling before Mr. and Mrs. Miller, performing a "daughter-in-law tea" ceremony, dressed in a way I' d never seen. Then I heard Kevin' s relative say, "Kevin is so lucky. His fiancée is just wonderful." Fiancée. The word crushed me. Olivia' s practiced smile froze when she saw me. She pulled me aside, whispering, "Ethan, what are you doing here? It's not what you think." Kevin then appeared, claiming it was a "little white lie" for his dying father, wanting to see him settled. Olivia eagerly agreed, pleading with me to keep quiet, "just for today." They stood there, my wife and my best friend, united in their deceit, asking me to participate in my own humiliation. A cold clarity washed over me. "For your dad's dying wish? Does his dying wish also include a grandchild to complete the 'four-generation' picture? Are you pregnant, too?" The air turned to ice. Olivia recoiled, then feigned outrage, calling me "cruel." Her gaslighting was instant. Later that night, I went home to retrieve belongings and found them passionately kissing on my couch. "It's... it's not what it looks like!" she gasped, but I pulled out my phone, recording, "Save it for the judge. I want a divorce. And I'm keeping the dog."

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I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.

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