The Wife He Never Married

JUNE

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Rick.

He was asleep on his stomach, one arm stretched across my side of the bed like even in sleep he expected to find me there. Morning light spilled through the curtains, soft gold sliding over his bare shoulders, over the silver strands beginning to appear at his temples.

I tried not to think about it, but I did so anyway.

Ten years since we started with nothing but a tiny apartment, unpaid bills, and promises whispered against exhausted mouths at two in the morning.

Now he was the CEO of a company people talked about on television. We lived in a house so big I still occasionally lost things inside it. Angel attended one of the best schools in the city. We had staff, investments, and stability.

We had a life.

And somehow, after all this time, I still loved watching him sleep. I smiled to myself and carefully slipped out of bed so I wouldn’t wake him.

The floor was cold beneath my feet as I tied my robe around my waist and headed downstairs. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant chirping of birds outside.

I started breakfast immediately. Today, I was making eggs with a side of toast. Angel liked pancakes on Fridays, so I made those too.

As I whisked batter in a bowl, I caught sight of my reflection in the dark kitchen window. I looked older than I used to. Softer and domestic in a way the younger version of me would’ve laughed at. There was a time people used to say I was going to become one of the best in my field, but I barely remembered that woman anymore.

“Mom!” I turned just in time for Angel to run into the kitchen with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

“Would you look at that.” I laughed. “Good morning, gremlin.”

“I’m not a gremlin.”

“You absolutely are before seven a.m.” She grinned and hugged my waist while I flipped pancakes.

Angel wasn’t biologically mine, but she was mine in every way that mattered.

I had raised her since she was little enough to fit against my chest. I had sat through fevers, nightmares, school recitals, scraped knees, tantrums, heartbreaks over cartoon friendships, and every tiny thing in between.

No one could tell me she wasn’t my daughter. By the time Rick came downstairs in a crisp white shirt with his tie hanging loose around his neck, breakfast was ready.

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head automatically as he passed.

“Morning, baby.”

“Morning.”

“Dad.” Angel pointed dramatically. “You’re late.”

“What?” Rick gasped. “Late? To my own kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” Rick muttered, like he was really hurt. “Tough crowd.”

I laughed quietly while placing plates down. For a while, everything felt normal and while Rick reached for his coffee while checking something on his phone, I watched him over the rim of my cup.

“Do you know what today is?” I asked. His eyes lifted to mine immediately, and he smiled, the same one that made me fall in love with him ten years ago.

“Of course I do.”

“Hmm.” I raised a brow. “You sure?”

“Of course.” He leaned back in his chair confidently. “I would never forget.”

Angel groaned loudly. “Ew. You guys are being weird again.”

Rick laughed, and I smiled down at my coffee, warmth spreading through my chest. Every year, he surprised me somehow. It wasn't anything ridiculously expensive, not anything  flashy, just thoughtful things.

Over the years, they ranged from a handwritten letter, a candlelit dinner on the rooftop, even down to a framed photograph from our first apartment.

He always remembered, and this year, he’d been acting secretive for weeks. Only God knows what he had planned for me this time.

“You’ll see,” he’d told me three nights ago with a smug grin, and that's how I knew he was planning something.

After breakfast, Rick grabbed his keys while Angel fixed her backpack straps. He kissed my cheek before leaving.

“I’ll be late tonight.” he mumbled.

“Is that so?” I narrowed my eyes teasingly. “Suspicious.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Barely.”

“Don’t snoop” He grinned and pointed at me. “I mean it.”

“I make no promises.”

Before he could respond, Angel made gagging noises all the way out the door.I stood there smiling long after they left, and before long, the house became quiet again.

I cleaned slowly, humming under my breath while loading dishes into the washer. Around noon, I suddenly decided I didn’t want to wait for whatever surprise Rick had planned.

I wanted to surprise him first. So I made his favorite meal myself. Not the chef, but me.

I spent almost two hours cooking, and by the time I finished getting dressed, the food was packed neatly into containers, and I actually felt excited driving to his office.

I remembered when he used to work from a tiny rented room with broken air conditioning and a secondhand laptop that overheated every hour.

Now his company occupied an entire glass building downtown. I still felt proud every time I looked at it, and my smile didn't falter one bit even as I drove down to his office.

“Mrs. Thorne,” The receptionist brightened the moment she saw me. “Welcome.”

I smiled. Rick never hid me away, literally everyone at work knew who I was.

“Hi.” I gave her a smile of my own. “Is Rick busy?”

“He’s currently in a meeting, but you can wait in his office if you’d like.”

“That’s fine.” I smiled and reached for the office door, then paused as Rick’s voice came from inside.

“…what if June finds out?”

I blinked, because I recognized the voice. It belonged to Marcus, one of Rick’s oldest friends. He’d been to our house dozens of times and was practicing family by now.

Were they talking about my surprise? I almost laughed, and without meaning too, I leaned closer. I still had my ears pressed against the door when Rick chuckled.

“She’s too stupid to find out.” his voice was so cold and dismissive, my hand froze on the doorknob. For a second, I genuinely thought I’d heard wrong.

The hallway suddenly felt too quiet, but I stayed rooted to my spot.

“Are you sure?” Marcus sounded uncomfortable. “Still, man… ten years is a long time.”

“There’s no truth to tell.” Rick sighed impatiently. “If she ever finds out we were never legally married, then all it does is create unnecessary drama.”

My stomach dropped so violently I thought I might faint. What? Never legally…

I didn't even finish the thought as I stared blindly at the door. My fingers tightened around the food containers while inside, Marcus lowered his voice.

“The marriage certificate was fake, Rick. That’s not a small lie.”

“Please. She believed it for ten years.” Rick laughed softly, actually laughed. “Obviously it worked.

I stopped breathing. No, this was a joke, a horrible joke, it just had to be. I tried not to, but my mind scrambled desperately through memories. Our wedding, my dress, the vows, the papers we signed, the certificate framed in our room.

Marcus spoke again, his voice pulling me back to the present. “And Diane?”

At that name, Rick went quiet for a moment, and then he spoke up. “Diane would never have become the doctor she is today if June stayed in the industry. So I made a choice.” Every word felt like a knife sliding slowly into my chest, but clearly he wasn't done. “Somebody had to stay home with Angel. Diane needed freedom to build her career.” I shook my head weakly, but Rick continued casually. “June was perfect for the domestic side of things.”

Domestic side of things, like I was furniture.

“What?” Marcus sounded disgusted now. “You mean you turned her into a housewife so your actual wife could chase success?”

Actual wife.

At this point, I couldn’t feel my hands anymore.

“She’s the mother of my daughter,” Rick said simply, like that explained everything.

 “Funny.” Marcus scoffed “Last I remember Diane dumped you with the baby because you were broke.”

A wave of silence followed, then Rick muttered darkly, “That was years ago. Like I said, she wanted to build her career and she was okay with June filling in her spot before she returns. It’s a win win.”

“And now?”

“She’s ready to come back.”

I physically stumbled backward that the container nearly slipped from my hands.

My vision blurred as Marcus said sharply, “Then tell June. Let her move on with her life.”

Rick laughed again, that laugh, that horrible laugh I suddenly didn’t recognize. “And lose the free nanny and maid our family has had for a decade? Absolutely not. I can have both women in my life. I’ve ran it for ten years now. June loves Angel. She loves me.” He continued. “Why ruin that? When Diane’s ready, I’ll buy her a house where Angel and I can visit at any time.”

I backed away from the office door before they could hear the sound I made. I don’t even know if it was a gasp or a sob.

My chest hurt so badly I thought I was dying.

I walked blindly toward the elevator, then faster, and by the time I reached the parking lot, I could barely breathe.

The food containers slipped from my hands and crashed onto the concrete as I tried to get into the car

I left them there and I drove home shaking so hard I nearly missed a red light.

No, no, no.  My mind kept rejecting it, Rick loved me, he kissed me every morning, he held me when I cried, he slept beside me every night, there was no way what he'd said was true.

You cannot fake ten years. Can you? You can't.

I stumbled into the house and ran upstairs.

Our bedroom looked exactly the same, the bed unmade, his watch on the dresser, and my perfume bottles beside his cologne.

They were all evidence of a life, our marriage.

With trembling hands, I yanked open the wardrobe and reached for the locked drawer where we kept important documents.

The certificate was exactly where it had always been, the cream paper and gold stamp staring back at me.

Rick Thorne and June Cross. Married.

I stared at it desperately. See? He'd lied to Marcus, that was all this was. Without thinking, I grabbed my purse and drove straight to the records bureau. I needed to be sure.

I barely remembered parking, I just rushed into the building. The lights felt too bright and the air too cold, but I didn't let that stop me.

“Hello, ma'am.” A clerk looked up politely when I approached. “How can I help you?”

“I…” My mouth was dry and my voice cracked. “I need to verify a marriage certificate.”

She took the document from me without a word, typed something into her computer, paused, then frowned slightly.

“I’m sorry,” My heart stopped as she said carefully. “You are not legally married, ma'am.”

“What?” I stared at her. “It can't be. Please check again.”

She typed again, checked again, and then looked at me with visible pity. “You are not legally married, ma’am.”

“That’s impossible,” The room tilted violently as I whispered. “Check again.”

“I already did, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Her expression softened.

I couldn’t hear properly anymore. Everything sounded muffled like it was a million times away. Then she hesitated before speaking again.

“The man is legally married, however.”

“Yes, we’ve been married for ten years.” My blood turned to ice, but I forced the words out. The clerk looked at the screen, then back at me.

“No ma’am, the man is married to a Diane Reeves not June Cross.”