Five Years As A DoorMat Wife: Her Time To Shine

Chapter 1

Above her, the night sky fractured into pieces through the broken surface. She could see the bridge—the beautiful, bridge where she'd stood just moments ago, laughing. Actually laughing, because for once, for one single evening, Seris had looked at her like she was a person instead of an obligation.

"You planned this whole thing," he'd said, something almost like warmth in his voice. "The lantern release, the winter festival. It's... nice."

Nice. Such a small word. But from Seris Ashford, it had felt like a declaration of love.

Silver's lungs screamed. She kicked toward the surface, but her designer gown—the one she'd spent three weeks choosing because Kate had mentioned Seris liked emerald green—had become a death shroud, wrapping around her legs, pulling her down into the dark.

She should have known better. Five years of marriage should have taught her that any warmth from Seris was temporary, a brief calm before the next freeze.

Three hours earlier...

"Mrs. Ashford, the ice sculptures are ready for your approval."

Silver looked up from her phone—where she'd been anxiously checking if Seris had read her messages about tonight—and smiled at the event coordinator. "Thank you, Monica. Let me see them."

The Crystalbrook Winter Festival had been her baby for six months. Most of the elite wives had their charities, their galas, their pet projects. Silver had this: a free community event featuring local artists, small businesses, and a lantern release to honor loved ones lost during the year.

She'd told Seris it was for the Ashford Corporation's public image. In truth, she'd planned every detail around the hope that for once, for one evening, he might look at her like she was someone worth being proud of.

"Silver!"

She turned to see Kate Bridgerton waving from across the festival grounds, her petite frame bundled in a cream-colored coat that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. Even in winter, even sick, Kate managed to look like something out of a fairy tale—porcelain skin, doe eyes, that fragile quality that made men want to protect her.

Silver had never figured out how to be fragile. She was too tall, too bold, too much.

"Kate." Silver's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm so glad you could make it. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know." Kate waved a delicate hand. "The doctors say I should rest, but I couldn't miss your festival. Seris told me how hard you've been working on it."

Seris told her. Of course he had. Seris told Kate everything. They'd been best friends since childhood, since before Silver had saved his life in that stupid accident seven years ago and made the even stupider request to marry him.

His parents, traditional to their bones, had honored the debt. Seris had honored the obligation.

That was all she'd ever been. An obligation.

"He's running late," Silver said, checking her phone again. No new messages. "Board meeting."

"Actually—" Kate's expression turned sheepish. "He's on his way. He called me to ask what you might like for tonight. I think he wants to surprise you."

Something warm and pathetic bloomed in Silver's chest. She hated herself for it. Five years of watching him send money to women whose names she found in bank statements. Five years of seeing photos in tabloids—*CEO Seris Ashford spotted in Monaco with mystery brunette.* Five years of important galas where he'd bring Kate as his plus-one because "Silver understands she's not comfortable with crowds."

Silver had never said she wasn't comfortable with crowds. He'd simply never asked.

But tonight... tonight he'd asked Kate what Silver might like.

"That's... that's nice of him," Silver managed.

Kate touched her arm, and somehow that was worse than hostility would have been. Kate was never anything but kind. Never anything but understanding when Silver's husband chose her company over his wife's. "He's trying, Silver. I know it's been hard, but he's trying."

*You don't know anything,* Silver wanted to scream. *You don't know what it's like to be legally bound to someone who looks through you like you're glass.

Instead, she said, "I should check on the lantern setup. Excuse me."

She walked away before Kate could see her hands shake.

Silver stood on the bridge, watching it all, and felt utterly alone.

"There you are."

Seris's voice cut through the noise. She turned to find her husband striding toward her, impossibly handsome in his black coat, his dark hair slightly mussed from the wind. For a moment she let herself pretend this was real. That he was really here for her.

"The festival looks good," he said, stopping beside her. "You did well."

"Thank you." Her voice came out smaller than she'd intended. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"I said I would." There was that almost-warmth again. He looked out over the crowd, and something shifted in his expression. "You planned this whole thing. The lantern release, the winter festival. It's... nice."

Nice.

Silver's throat tightened. "I wanted to do something that mattered. Something that wasn't just another society party."

"You succeeded." He glanced at her, and for the first time in months, really seemed to see her. "I know I haven't been... I know things have been difficult. But this—this is good work, Silver."

She was going to cry. Right here, on this bridge, in front of hundreds of people, she was going to cry because her husband had said her work was good.

God, when had she become this person?

"Seris! Silver!" Kate appeared at the end of the bridge, waving. Even from a distance, Silver could see she was shivering. "The lanterns are ready! Are you coming down?"

"We should go," Seris said, already moving toward Kate.

Of course. Of course he was.

Silver followed, something bitter coating her tongue. But then Seris did something unexpected—he reached back and took her hand. Actually took her hand, his fingers warm against hers.

"Come on," he said. "Let's release the first lantern together."

Her heart stuttered. This was it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. Five years of patience, of understanding, of being the perfect wife despite everything, and finally—finally—he was choosing her.

They reached Kate, who was bouncing on her feet, her breath coming in short gasps. "It's so cold! I think I might head back to the car soon."

"You should," Seris said, frowning. "You're shivering. Here—" He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over Kate's shoulders.

Silver's hand went cold where he'd released it.

"But you'll freeze," Kate protested, even as she pulled the coat tighter.

"I'm fine. Silver, do you mind if I walk Kate back to—"

The scream cut him off.

"Someone's in the water! Oh my God, someone fell in!"

The crowd surged toward the railing. Silver's stomach dropped. The river was high from recent storms, the current vicious. If someone had fallen in—

"It's a woman!" someone shouted. "She's caught in the decorative netting!"

The netting. The decorative netting Silver had approved for the bridge, woven with lights and ribbons.

"Call emergency services!" Silver was already running toward the stairs that led down to the riverbank, her mind racing. The decorative netting. Her idea. Her festival. If someone died—

She reached the bank just as she saw her: a woman in the water, struggling against the netting that had tangled around her like a trap, pulling her under.

And then Kate was there, at the edge of the water, and Silver's blood turned to ice.

Kate had slipped. She must have been trying to see, gotten too close—

She fell with barely a splash.

"Kate!" Seris's voice cracked with terror Silver had never heard before. He was running, faster than Silver had ever seen him move,

Time seemed to slow.

Kate, thrashing in the water. The other woman, disappearing beneath the surface, tangled in the netting—Silver's netting. And Seris, diving in without hesitation, without thought, his entire focus on Kate.

Silver stood frozen on the bank as her husband swam straight past the drowning stranger.

Straight to Kate.

He reached her in seconds, wrapping an arm around her fragile body, already swimming back to shore. Emergency responders were arriving, someone was throwing a life preserver to the other woman, but Silver couldn't look away from Seris's face.

The terror. The desperation. The love.

For Kate.

Never, in five years, had he looked at Silver like that.

And then, as if the universe wanted to make its point crystal clear, the bridge creaked.

The weight of the crowd, all surging to one side to see the rescue—too much weight, too much pressure on the old structure. Silver heard the groan of wood and metal, saw the decorative railing beginning to give way.

She should have moved. Should have run.

But something in her had already broken, watching Seris choose Kate. Again. Always.

The railing gave way.

And Silver fell.

The last thing she saw before the water took her was Seris on the bank, holding Kate, not even looking in her direction.

Of course, she thought, as the river pulled her under. Of course he didn't see me fall.

He never had.