I Got My Wife’s Marriage Certificate Ready

My jaw dropped, but I could not find the words.

He was claiming that Mae Jameson was his wife.

However, Mae had been my wife of five years.

The Jameson family had a lot of businesses, and it was very powerful.

Hence, we kept our marriage hidden. She said that it was mainly for my protection. She was too busy with her career, so she was afraid that the reporters would come after me.

I believed her.

I trusted her for five years.

It turned out that I was a huge joke.

The young man, Noah Scott’s face was flushed in anger. “I’ve seen many men like you who throw yourself at rich women and wreck marriages! How dare you work in the city hall?

“I’m going to file a complaint to get you fired!”

Bernard Anderson immediately tried to calm him down. “Mr. Scott, calm down. This must be a misunderstanding…”

“What misunderstanding? They even have a photo together!”

I took a deep breath and took my phone back. My voice was unexpectedly calm.

“It’s just a misunderstanding. I’ve worked in the neighboring city before and got a chance to interview Ms. Jameson. That’s all.”

Noah stared at me suspiciously.

“Interview?”

“That’s right, for work purposes.”

He looked at me for a few seconds before he relaxed.

“Oh, then I’m sorry for misunderstanding you,” he said with a laugh. “My wife is so amazing, everyone out there wants a piece of her. I have to be very vigilant.”

I smiled too.

“It’s fine.”

“Then, about the marriage certificate…”

“I still need the original copy for reference,” I said. “You’ll have to go home and retrieve it.”

Noah frowned. “My house is just nearby. I’ll head home and take it.”

“I can go with you.” I stood up. “I can take a photo and bring it back, so you don’t have to come over again.”

He pondered for a moment and then nodded. “Alright, that works too. Let’s go.”

I followed him out of the city hall.

He drove a white Porsche. The car was very new, and the car interior was in a darker shade that he liked.

Twenty minutes later, the car parked in a familiar neighborhood area.

My heart dropped when I went upstairs and stood before the apartment entrance.

It was because I was highly familiar with the apartment.

When I got married two years ago, I used my pre-marital savings for the downpayment of this apartment and bought it.

I knew the Jameson family was very wealthy, and my apartment was nothing to them. But I wanted to prove that I was not with Mae because of her money.

At that time, Mae told me that the company had run into some cash flow issues, so we should keep our marriage private and only have our wedding ceremony after the crisis.

I understood her, and I was supportive of her needs.

After her cash flow issues were solved, she did not mention our wedding and this apartment again.

I asked her a few times, but she claimed to have rented it out.

I was also receiving monthly rent, so I never thought of visiting the apartment.

I stood at the entrance and saw a huge wedding photo hung on the living room wall.

Mae was wearing a wedding gown and Noah was wearing a suit in that photo. They were smiling very sweetly.

“Come and have a seat.” Noah gestured.

I stepped in. It all felt surreal.

Throughout our five-year marriage, Mae never wanted a wedding or a single wedding photo.

The only photo we had together was a travel photo that I had to beg her to take. She had merely stood beside me and looked like a stranger.

However, she had a wedding photo with someone else hanging in my apartment.

It was a sizable photo in a gold photo frame, and it directly faced the couch.

Your house looks so cozy,” I forced a smile and said.

He smiled, “I honestly think this wedding photo is a little too big, and it looks a little tacky. But Mae insisted on hanging it up. She said she wants everyone to see that I’m her husband.

“It seems like she treats you quite well.”

“She’s alright,” he said humbly, but his eyes were filled with pride. “Have a seat. Let me locate the original document.”

I sat on the couch and stared at that wedding photo.

Mae’s smile was so gentle. It was a type of gentleness that I had never seen before.

It turned out that it was not that she did not like to take photos.

Instead, she did not like to take photos with me.