01

ARABELLA COLLINS

I still wanted to save my marriage.

It was late at night, and I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart as I made my way to the room, the soft silk nightgown clinging to my curves with a gentle caress. The delicate fabric felt like a second skin.

The cool breeze whispered against my bare skin, making me tremble. With a determined spirit, I urged myself forward, pushing aside any fears that threatened to dampen my excitement.

After all, the man waiting inside the room was none other than my husband, Mason Donovan.

This nightgown, chosen with care, was meant for intimate moments like these. As I stood outside the door, I gently touched my flushed cheeks, trying to soothe my nerves.

Inhaling the fragrant scent of roses that adorned the room, I knocked softly, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

The door opened, revealing Mason's tall figure, but there was a hint of distance in his eyes, an unfamiliarity that saddened me. Yet, the sight of him, as handsome as a deity, made my heart skip a beat.

"It is late. What's up?" Mason's voice was cool and distant, leaving me feeling a pang of uncertainty, as if I was facing a stranger instead of my husband.

Summoning my inner strength, I held his gaze.

"Mason, do you remember what day it is?" My voice quivered slightly, betraying the vulnerability I felt.

Mason's brow furrowed, his guarded expression softening just a fraction. "Get to the point," he replied, his tone still distant, but there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

Despite my disappointment at his initial response, I refused to let it overshadow my plan. With a brave smile, I continued, "It is our third wedding anniversary. You have been so busy lately... but that doesn't matter now. I prepared a surprise for you!" As I spoke, my voice grew softer, the words carrying a touch of invitation.

I stepped closer and reached out to gently touch his hand. "I think we can celebrate." With each word, my fingers traced a delicate path along his skin.

But fate seemed to mock me, because...

No sooner had I finished speaking than a woman suddenly stepped out from behind Mason. She stood comfortably by his side and greeted me with a smile.

"Arabella, I have heard so much about you from Mason. We haven't been introduced, have we?" The woman was beautiful. Her voice was gentle, and her eyes were lively. It made people want to protect her.

But the sight of her shocked me. I froze, feeling the warmth drain from my hands and feet. "Kylie? Why... why are you here?"

Though we had never met, Kylie existence had always overshadowed my marriage like a dark cloud. The house was full of traces of Kylie. All the members of the Donovan family had reminded me that Kylie was Mason's woman of choice and that I was just the titular Mrs. Donovan.

She was a friend of his. Or at least, that's what he claimed. Not that I was foolish enough to believe that Mason wasn't sleeping with her... and with other women.

Noticing my sexy nightgown, Kylie lowered her eyes with embarrassment. "Mason, am I disturbing you?"

I unleashed my hostility. "Yes, obviously."

The color drained from Kylie's face. "I am sorry. Please do not be angry. I'll leave right away." As she spoke, she moved as though she were about to leave.

Frowning, Mason looked at me and said, "Kylie is our guest, Arabella. Watch your attitude."

Standing at the door, I felt a heavy weight in my chest, a crushing sense of humiliation that left me feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. It was as though my heart had been laid bare, and all my hopes and dreams were shattered before me.

Legally bound as his wife, I had endured three years of neglect and disrespect from Mason and his family.

The loneliness that haunted my days and nights was a constant reminder of the emotional distance that had grown between us. Mason was always immersed in his work, but even when he did return, he seemed like a distant stranger.

And now, standing at the threshold of Mason's room, I was confronted with a scene that shattered my soul. Another woman, brazenly occupying the space that was meant for me, was a heart-wrenching sight.

The betrayal and hurt struck me like a tidal wave.

Anger and pain swirled within me, but I felt powerless to react. My efforts to be patient and understanding had been in vain, my expectations of a loving and devoted husband now nothing more than a cruel joke.

What had happened to the promises we made on our wedding day?

I looked into Mason's eyes. "What about me?" I asked, my voice heavy with disappointment.

"Do not complicate things," Mason replied impatiently. "Kylie is recovering and needs rest. Which do you want, money?"

I watched as Kylie's eyes shone smugly.

Before I knew it, I lost my temper. "Mason, how do you not understand that it is never your money I want?" I then spun around and left, dejected.

Mason watched me leave.

I walked back into my room, changed out of my nightgown, and lay on the bed. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

My eyes lit up. Did Mason come to see me?

The moment I swung open the door, my heart skipped a beat, and my eyes widened in shock. There stood Kylie, an ethereal beauty that seemed to outshine everything around her.

The air seemed to grow thinner. My voice trembled as I managed to utter, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Kylie's expression was cold and resolute, as if she had rehearsed this confrontation in her mind countless times.

Her words struck me like a dagger to the heart, and the light in my eyes began to flicker, the warmth of my soul dimming with each passing second: "You and Mason might have been married for three years, but I am the only one he loves."

With a mix of confusion and desperation, I pleaded, "But we've been married for three years..."

Kylie cut me off, her tone sharp and unyielding. "Married or not, it doesn't change the truth. You were nothing more than a placeholder while I was away. Mason's heart belongs to me."

My world was crumbling around me. I felt like a puppet. The raw pain and vulnerability in my voice were palpable as I asked, "Does he know you came to tell me this?"

Kylie's lips curled into a bitter smile. "He asked me to come."

My heart ached, but I was too dignified to let Kylie see me squirm. "You, a hooker, are asking a wife to divorce her husband? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

Kylie's smile vanished. "Watch your mouth, Arabella. I am not a hooker. When it comes to love, the one who isn't loved is the mistress!"

I thought silently and...

She was right.

I was the kicked-out dog from Mason's room three years ago. I was the woman trying to make a failed marriage work. I tried so hard to be someone for Mason that I didn't realize he wasn't anyone for me.

Let Kylie make good use of him, then.

Feeling a mix of sadness and anger, I demanded, "What do you want, Kylie?"

"'He,'" she replied simply.

"Then you'll have him," was all I said before closing the door.

I wasn't trying to save my marriage anymore.