Chapter 1: My contracted wife

His eyes brimmed with tears and fear. His mouth hung open, trying to form words, but no sound escaped. He stood frozen, knees too weak to hold him upright.

The heavy silence in the room and the thick tension in the air made it painfully clear—something was terribly wrong.

George stood helplessly, watching his wife pack her bag. He didn’t know what else to say or how else to beg her to stay. With every item she folded into the suitcase, it felt like another stab to his chest.

“Why are you doing this, Emily? I love you… please, don’t go,” George pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks.

But no amount of begging could change Emily’s heart.

“George, this is only temporary. I need to leave before I lose myself in this marriage,” Emily said, her voice raised as she finally turned to face him.

“Baby… we can work this out, we still—”

“My mind is made up, George. This is for your good… and for the best,” she interrupted, turning away again to finish packing.

She zipped the last compartment of her suitcase and placed it gently by the door. The mansion stood as calm and quiet as the day she first moved in, almost as if it already knew she wouldn't be living there anymore.

George stood by the bookshelf, arms crossed, watching her with quiet disbelief. His pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

“So this is real,” he said, his voice trembling.

She nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. It is.”

“I don’t understand… things weren’t that bad. We weren’t unhappy. Why are you really doing this, Emily?” he asked, still struggling to grasp the situation.

“I know,” she said quietly. “But that’s part of the problem.”

His brow furrowed.

“Leaving me won’t solve anything. Emily, we could—”

“I want something different for both of us, George. I want to experience something new… and I want the same for you.” Emily’s voice was calm, but distant.

“Emily… what are you even saying? It doesn’t make sense,” George said, trying to stop whatever this plan was.

“I want to be someone else’s wife. I want to feel someone else’s love. Why is that so hard to understand?” Her voice was strained now, her frustration barely contained.

His voice cracked. “So… this is about freedom?”

“It’s about curiosity,” she said. “About not waking up ten years from now wondering what I missed.”

George looked down, silent for a moment.

“And nothing I say will change your mind?”

“No. Everything’s already been sorted out.” She stood, walked over to him, and touched his arm lightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave me comfort, kindness, and a home. But I need more than that now—not from you. Not from your arms.”

He stepped back slightly.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand this, Emily. You’re breaking me.”

“This is only temporary, George. I’m not divorcing you. I will come back,” she said softly, her smile faint and far from genuine.

“What do I tell my parents? How do I explain this madness to them?”

“Don’t worry. I know you’ll figure something out,” she replied.

She picked up her suitcase and walked toward the staircase. Deep down, a part of her relished the way George pleaded with her to stay—even though her mind had long been made up.

As she descended the stairs, she stopped abruptly.

A striking young woman stood at the base of the staircase, her beauty otherworldly. Her long, silvery-grey hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the light like strands of moonlight. Her fair skin glowed with a delicate blush, highlighting the softness of her features.

She stood there, holding a suitcase identical to Emily’s, her eyes scanning the mansion in awe—until they landed on Emily.

They stared at each other, speechless, as if something deeper connected them. Emily’s mouth parted slightly in surprise, unable to look away.

“Who is she? And how did she get in here?” George asked, confused by the silent standoff between the two women.

No one responded. The air thickened with tension as their gazes remained locked.

“Baby… do you know her? What’s going on?” George asked again, growing more bewildered with each passing second.

After several long, silent minutes, Emily finally cleared her throat and spoke.

“She is Luna Ward—your new wife”