The First Wife’s Revenge

Olivia stood in the big bedroom, quietly packing her bags. The only sound was the soft rustle of clothes as she folded them and placed them into her suitcase.

She was done pretending, Her marriage to Ethan had felt like love at first, but it was all fake. She had truly loved him, tried everything to make him love her too even after losing their baby, a loss Ethan never knew about.

The pain had been too much for too long. Now, she had made up her mind. She was leaving him. And this time, for good.

A black SUV pulled into the driveway, its tires crunching loudly on the gravel. Rain poured from the sky, tapping against the glass like a steady drumbeat, matching the heavy thud in her chest. The room felt even colder now not just from the winter chill creeping through the cracks, but from everything she was about to leave behind.

Down below, she saw Ethan step out of the SUV. Two bodyguards rushed to shield him with a large black umbrella.

“Mr. Ethan, careful with the steps it’s slippery out here,” one of them said.

The other bodyguard Louis glanced up at the house. “You sure she’s still inside?”

Ethan didn’t answer. His face was unreadable, as always.

Olivia’s breath hitched as she watched him approach. Her heart squeezed tight, her throat burning. She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and stood tall.

She had to be strong now.

Seconds later, the bedroom door creaked open.

Ethan stepped into the room, his wet shoes leaving faint marks on the hardwood floor. His eyes quickly swept across the space stopping at the two large suitcases near the bed, then rising slowly to meet Olivia’s face.

She stood there, still and composed, but her eyes were red, and her fingers trembled slightly at her sides.

“What’s going on?” Ethan asked, his voice calm but tight. “Why are you packing your bags?”

Olivia didn’t flinch. She stood straighter, forcing the lump in her throat down. “What does it look like I’m doing?” Her voice was quiet, but firm. “I’m leaving.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed, a flicker of emotion passing over his face surprise, maybe. Or was it guilt?

“Leaving?” he repeated, taking a step forward. “Why now?”

Olivia let out a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving his. “Because I have had enough. Of pretending. Of hurting. Of waiting for something that was never real.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

She gave a small, bitter laugh. “No. I’m being honest for once.”

Ethan’s face hardened. “You think walking away fixes everything?”

“No,” she replied, her voice cracking slightly. “But staying has broken me.”

There was a tense silence. The only sound was the rain still falling outside and the occasional creak of the old house.

From the hallway, one of the bodyguards appeared at the door, looking unsure. “Sir? Is everything alright?”

Ethan didn’t take his eyes off Olivia. “Yeah. Give us a minute.”

The guard nodded and stepped away.

Ethan turned back to her, his voice colder now. “You want me to help you carry those bags?”

Olivia’s heart squeezed, but she didn’t show it. “No. I’m good.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded once.

“Fine.”

She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and started walking towards the door.

“Olivia,” he said suddenly.

She stopped but didn’t turn around.

“When you walk out don’t expect to come back.”

This time, she did turn. Her eyes were glassy, but her voice was clear.

“I’m not planning to.”

Ethan nodded slowly, then turned to face Olivia completely. Rainwater dripped from his hair as he pulled off his wet jacket and tossed it onto the chair. Underneath, his shirt clung to his body, showing off the firm muscles beneath.

Olivia’s eyes moved to his chest for a second, her heart twisting. Even now even after everything he could still make her feel something.

She bit her lip and forced herself to look up at him, voice shaky. “Don’t you care about me? Even a little?”

Ethan’s face stayed blank. “What’s there to care about?” he said flatly.

The words hit her like a slap. Olivia’s throat tightened. “So, you really don’t care,” she whispered, eyes filling with tears. “Not even now that I’m leaving?”

He didn’t blink. “Never did and Never will.”

Her chest felt like it caved in. All the pain, all the nights she cried herself to sleep hoping he would change it all bubbled up at once.

“You’re heartless,” she breathed. “How can you stand there and say that?”

He shrugged like it meant nothing. “It’s the truth. I only married you because your father pushed for it. It was a business deal, not love.”

Olivia’s hands trembled as she reached for her suitcase, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can’t you say anything good about me? Anything at all?”

Ethan didn’t move. “You were never good for anything apart from being my wife Olivia.”

Her breath caught. The room went silent except for the sound of rain tapping the windows and the roar of thunder crashing outside.

Then something inside her snapped.

“You monster,” she screamed, dropping the suitcase with a loud thud She rushed at him, fists clenched, and hit his chest again and again. “You never loved me! You used me!”

He grabbed her wrists, holding them still, but not hurting her. His expression remained cold.

“Love is useless. You of all should know that this is a corporate world it’s meaningless. Do you honestly think I would’ve chosen you if it wasn’t for the deal your parents made? Wake up, Olivia. I never wanted you.”

Her knees nearly gave way.

Memories came flooding back of how she had tried to win his love, how she’d worn his favorite colors, cooked his favorite meals, laughed at jokes that weren’t funny. How she’d hoped every time he looked at her that maybe this time there would be something in his eyes… something warm.

But there never was. Only ice. Only silence.

Tears poured down her face now. “I gave you everything,” she whispered. “I even..’’She stopped herself, biting her tongue before she said about the baby.

He said nothing.

Olivia pulled her hands free from his grip, chest heaving. “You’ll regret this one day, Ethan.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I doubt it.”

Ethan’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. He stood by the doorway, arms crossed, eyes cold.

“Do you need a car to take you away?” he asked, his tone dry, without emotions like he was asking about the weather.

Olivia spun around, eyes blazing. “I don’t want anything from you,” she snapped. Her hands tightened around the handle of her suitcase. “Not your car. Not your money. Not your pity.”

Her voice shook, her chest rising and falling fast with rage and heartbreak.

“I hate you, Ethan,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice breaking. “I fucking hate you already.”

Ethan said nothing. He just stood there, watching, like none of it mattered.

Olivia turned away, swallowing back the sob rising in her throat. She stormed out of the room, her suitcase wheels thudding against the polished floor.

The cold drops fell hard and fast, soaking her within seconds, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even try to cover herself. The rain mixed with her tears as she walked down the steps, out of the gates, and into the empty street beyond.

She had no idea where she was going. No car. No plan. Just the weight of her grief pushing her forward.

The city lights were blurry through the sheets of rain. Her shoes slipped slightly on the wet pavement, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest, and every step she took felt heavier than the last.

Her breathing came in short, broken gasps. Her chest was tight. The pain inside her had grown too big, too heavy.

It was choking her.

Memories played in her mind his cold words, his empty eyes, the way he tossed her love aside like trash. Her hands trembled. Her legs wobbled. She kept walking. She had to. She needed to get as far away from that house as she could.

People passed her on the street, but no one stopped. No one noticed the woman soaked in rain, dragging a suitcase, with a broken heart carved into her expression.

Then, somewhere deep inside all that pain… something flickered.

A tiny spark.

It wasn’t peace. It wasn’t joy. It wasn’t hope.

It was something sharper. Stronger.

It was freedom.

She was free. Truly free.

And yet…

Freedom wasn’t enough. Not after what he did. Not after what he took.

She stopped in the middle of the street. Rain poured down her face, but her lips curled into a quiet, trembling smile.

“I’ll make him pay,” she whispered to herself. Her voice was barely audible over the storm. “I will make him regret the day he ever signed that marriage deal.”