Three Years Wasted, I Married Mr·right Novels & Stories

“Just three months. The man I married promised to divorce me after three months. We’ll have our lives back—the life we always dreamed of. I’ll make it happen.” “Three months?” Jacob sounded surprised—and a little amused. “That’s faster than I expected. I’ll be waiting, my love.” “I love you, Jacob.” “I love you more, babe.” With our feelings clear again, we talked and laughed for hours. For a while, I forgot all my sorrow. His voice swept away all my pain. I drifted off into sleep with his voice in my ears. The next morning, I prepared for work, and anyone could see how lifted my mood was. I danced in front of the mirror, checking out my outfit.

They were beaming radiantly at their phone camera. The title of the live stream was glaringly harsh—"Goodbye, Loser. Hello, Billionaire Life." "Loser?" I muttered to myself, my heart clenching as if a hand had squeezed it tight. We'd been married for three years, and I'd been killing myself with 72-hour work weeks as a programmer just to make the down payment for our apartment. Even so, the property deed had both of our names on it. I felt that I'd never mistreated her, yet I was just a loser in her eyes.

I lay back in my beach chair, listening to the report, and stretched with deep satisfaction. "Beautiful work, 001. You can enter sleep mode now." "Acknowledged, Owner. Unit 001, standing by." 001 closed her eyes. The indicator light on her neck dimmed and went dark. She entered standby. I set down the iPad and gazed at the turquoise water and white sand stretching before me. I took a deep breath. Three years of marriage—an absurd farce that had finally reached its curtain call. I hadn't played the long-suffering heroine, weeping over a worthless man. I hadn't sacrificed my own life for the sake of revenge.

Eric was clearly using this knowledge to provoke me, but I wasn't easily manipulated, especially not with the joker card I had in hand. "I think you should go and be with your wife now," I said coldly. "Of course I am. Marrying you was the worst mistake I could have made. Now, I’m so happy with my new wife, the woman of my dreams, and the mother of my children. I was with you for three years and couldn’t give me a child. But with her, in just three months, I’m already going to be a father." "I think congratulations are in order," I said smoothly.

"Are you joking? You can't bail now." "You joked first." "You're saying Erica won't like it?" "No one will." "What should I do?" "You've got three hours till the wedding. Figure it out, or you are toast. Erica will have your head, and your wedding night will be your funeral. Nice touch, though." Randy froze. There were only three hours left, not enough for him to fix anything. "Good luck," Marion said, clapping his shoulder. Randy felt like the world was crashing down.

“What the hell do you mean, husband? You got married? When? To who? I thought you were running for your life this whole time.” Raine let out a slow breath and ran a hand through his hair. The late afternoon light coming through the dusty windows caught the silver watch on his wrist, making it glint. He looked around the old apartment for a moment, the faded couch, the cobwebs in the corners, the familiar crack on the ceiling he used to stare at during sleepless nights, and felt the weight of everything he was about to unload. “It happened before I left,” he started quietly. “Back during those three years with Daniel. We… we got married. By mistake.”

I no longer had to humbly wait for him to marry me. My mother was still rambling on, telling me that soft, coquettish women had the best fate in life. I no longer felt the urge to pour out my grievances. “Mom, the wedding is canceled anyway. I’m not going to marry him!” I hung up and contacted the wedding planner to cancel everything for tomorrow. The planner fell silent for a moment before answering, “Mr. Quinn already called about this. He just asked us to keep the decorations and backdrop for three years, but that might be difficult. Those items are basically one-time use…”

"I've already arranged for you to start working as an executive secretary at Castille Group. Other than marriage, I can give you anything you want—even a child. But don't cross my bottom line." Outside, I leaned against the car seat, gripping my phone tightly. Tears fell without warning, one after another, reflecting my pale face. The argument had already stopped by then. All that came through the headphones now were whispers of affection between the two of them. I took a deep breath. Then, I promptly accepted the admission offer to study abroad in Norland. I'd given up the chance to go abroad for Ruben in my past life. But this time, he was no longer worth it.

"And he will get the unvarnished answers he deserves." Marcus’s voice cracked, his polished exterior completely gone. "Please, Elena. Don't do this." For one microscopic second, I saw the ghost of the man I had married—scared, broken, entirely human. But it wasn't enough. Not after three years of a dual reality. Not after Sophia. Not after the baby. Not after what he did to Liam. Slowly, deliberately, Marcus reached for his car keys on the counter. At the threshold of the door, he stopped, turning back to face me one last time. "You're going to regret throwing away twenty years of a family over my one mistake," he said quietly.

3 YEARS LATER She remembered that discussion with her father in his study, this very day three years ago. The discussion that led to a merger and.... marriage. She examined the gold band on her finger. The metal was simple but beautiful and felt cool to touch but it burned her everyday like it had done for the past three years. Mrs Milbourne She had been Mrs Milbourne for three years but only in name. Her husband was only her husband in name, he barely came home and whenever he did, he ignored her.