Chapter 1: Our Third Anniversary

Octavia's POV

The night had grown late. Dark clouds hovered above as thunder rumbled in the distance. In a few minutes, it would be pouring down.

“Take me home,” I said to the driver, who stood in front of the car, dressed entirely in black, looking more like a security guard than a driver.

The night was growing late, but the vibrant energy of Valdoria remained. We drove out of the supermarket, and in a few minutes, we were back home.

The moment the gate of Beacham Estate came into view, a dreadful feeling settled in my chest. Home should've been the one place I felt safe. But how could I?

I woke up every day, knowing I was the source of embarrassment for the Beacham household. “The pig in the house,” as Sarah would call me.

Every day within these walls was a nightmare. Living had become a task. It felt like hell on earth. Every breath I drew felt forced.

It hurts when people shame your body, when you're called fat, and laughed at. But you know what hurts more? It's when the insults and mockery are coming from your family, the people you love most.

To the public, I was Octavia Beacham, heir to the wealthy Beacham family. But in my family, I was nothing. A joke. The one whose opinions never mattered.

I entered the living room, desperate to get to our bedroom before Sarah or anyone saw me. It was past 8pm; Jake should be home now.

What started as a Tinder date 3 years ago between Jake and me became a marriage, and since then, Jake has been my only source of happiness.

As I approached the door on the east wing of the house. A smile crossed my face.

This was my chance to present him with the gift I had gotten him. Today was the 3rd anniversary of our marriage, and I already had everything planned.

But when I reached the door to our bedroom, I heard a gasp. Then, a sharp growl from a masculine voice that sounded like Jake's.

I paused. “What was that?”

I came closer to the door and realized the door wasn't fully closed. Through the narrow opening, I peered.

The smell of lily and sunflower perfume reached my nostrils; a familiar scent proudly worn by Sarah Beacham, my younger sister.

My chest tightened. What is Sarah doing in my bedroom? And why is Jake with her?

I pushed open the door slowly, and as the door went wide, my gaze landed on the unforgivable scene…

My husband, Jake Marshall, the man who had made me feel wanted over the years. The same man who had shown me that I deserved to be loved unconditionally.

He lay on our bed, while Sarah was straddling him. Her right hand on his neck, her left hand on his chest, as she ground her hips on his erection.

Sarah exhaled sharply… “I wanna hear you say it. You enjoy my body, don't you? You want me to fuck you hard. Like your pig of a wife can never huh?”

A growl tore from Jake's throat as his hands clapped against her ass… “Yes, baby. Fuck me hard. Just like that.”

“Beg me for it. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to give you the pleasure your ugly whore can never give. Say my name, Jake.”

I heard Jake try to speak, but his voice faltered. The sound of their bodies filled the room.

“Fuckkkk!” The word tore from his throat. I saw Sarah's smile. She looked into his eyes and smiled. The look in her eyes. The way she held his neck was as if she was claiming him as her property.

Tears welled up in my eyes. The pain. The humiliation… I watched my husband struggle beneath her and then let out a final growl before his body began to tremble beneath her.

Their eyes locked, not noticing my presence as I stood in the wide open door, watching the atrocity unfold.

“Say it, Jake. Who is better? Me or that fat loser?”

I paused. Something tightened in my chest. Like a knot pulled too tightly, and I couldn't breathe.

The short silence that followed that question sent chills up my spine… “He'll choose me no matter what. Sarah can be a whore and fuck my husband, but Jake will always choose me. He loves me.”

Maybe that's just something I told myself over the years… That he belonged to me. That he loved me. That I was enough for him.

He smiled and pulled Sarah closer, and I watched as he kissed her.

"Isn't that obvious? I don't even know why I stayed with Octavia this long. Being with you feels so different.”

I froze. My jaw dropped along with my hopes, and all my bones weakened. My grip on the shopping bag loosened, and the bag dropped with a thudding sound, announcing my presence.

Both heads turned in unison, and Jake sprang up from the bed… “Babe… Shit! W… what are you doing here?”

I froze. Tears filled my eyes as I watched Jake scamper to find his clothes littered over the floor.

“Relax, darling,” Sarah said to Jake. She climbed down from the bed with zero worries. As though I didn't just catch her fucking my husband in my bedroom.

My gaze met hers, and her smile made my stomach churn.

“Hi, sister…” She came forward. The bedsheets covered her nakedness and trailed on the ground behind her. My fingers trembled as she reached me.

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Tears gathered. “How could you?”

She smiled. She didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.

“So you finally found out?” She said back to me. My head turned toward the corner, and I saw Jake hiding away in shame.

“Oh, please, give it up, Octavia. Don't tell me you didn't expect Jake to keep other women.”

“How the hell are you gonna satisfy him, looking like this? You think a wedding ring is enough to keep a man? You walk around looking miserable, you've put on weight, and you expect him to worship you forever? Grow up, sis.”

"Stop..." I whispered with teary eyes.

"Or what?” Sarah smiled coldly.

“Goodness, you should even be thanking me, Octavia. I'm saving your marriage. Imagine that he goes seeking pleasure and gets another girl pregnant…”

"Maybe the problem is not him but you. Maybe he just got tired of pretending you were enough.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Sarah, please stop…” I cried.

She stepped closer, covering the gap between us. She leaned so close I could feel her breath.

"You always thought you were the better sister. Smarter. Kinder. The favorite child. But you're not. You may be married to Jake, but he's mine. And he'll always be.

“You can cry about it; tell Mom and Dad. It wouldn't make a difference anyway because no one will believe you.

“I'll fuck him when I want, and you'll do nothing. You need to understand, sis… you're worthless, spineless, a pathetic loser. So do yourself a favour and stay out of my way.”

The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. I looked at Jake with teary eyes, waiting for him to say something. Instead, he lowered his eyes and said nothing. His silence hurt more than any insult ever could.

Jake finally lifted his head. His eyes were red, but he couldn't bring himself to look at me for more than a second.

"I'm sorry, Octavia..." The words came out barely above a whisper. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

A fragile spark of hope flickered inside me, and I swallowed. "Then tell me she's lying, tell me this is a mistake. Tell me you're coming back to me." I never dared to say these words out loud. But I hoped he saw them in my eyes.

The room fell silent.

And then Jake closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was nothing left in them for me.

"I love Sarah more than I love you." Every word landed like a hammer against my chest. "But I'll always love you, Octavia."

Something inside me shattered. I stared at him, unable to breathe, unable to think.

Three years… Three fucking years of loving him. Three years of believing I had finally found someone who saw me for who I was.

Sarah's soft laugh broke the silence. She slipped her arm around his shoulders and rested her head against him as though I no longer existed.

"Well," she said with a satisfied smile, "I think you've heard enough." Her eyes met mine without a trace of guilt.

"You should leave now, Octavia. We aren't finished. Unless you wanna stay and watch me fuck him so hard."

Her fingers reached his erection, and Jake let out a shallow gasp.

Shame seized me… I bent down with trembling hands and picked up the shopping bag that had fallen.

Inside it was the anniversary gift I had spent weeks choosing for the man I thought would love me forever.

Clutching it against my chest, I turned toward the door. Each step felt heavier than the last. Behind me, no one called my name. No one asked me to stay.

I walked out of the bedroom with tears streaming down my face, carrying nothing but a broken heart... and a gift that would never be opened.