My Husband Chose His Secretary On Christmas Eve

On Christmas Eve, my husband’s secretary, Chloe, posted an update on Ins. "Ugh, what kind of company makes you go on a business trip on Christmas? All the hotels are fully booked! Luckily, my hot CEO is here to keep me company..." Attached below the caption was a selfie of her lying in bed in a bathrobe. Next to her was a man lying down, showing off a gorgeous, tan, muscular back. Plenty of commenters were drooling over how sexy and masculine the guy was. Chloe didn't hold back either. She replied with a shy emoji: "The sex with him is wild. My legs are completely jelly." I sneered and sent her a $2,000 tip on the post. A moment later, Chloe called me. She was sobbing hysterically, claiming she caught Carter in the photo by accident and never meant to provoke me. Before I could speak, Carter snatched the phone away, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Faith, Chloe just started as my secretary. Why do you always have to be so petty and passive-aggressive? Can you stop being so damn paranoid all the time?" Then, turning around, he softened his voice for Chloe: "Chloe, don't take it to heart. She's just crazy." Listening to her sweet, bell-like giggle on the other end, I hung up. Carter and I dated for three years and had been married for four. The seven-year itch had arrived right on schedule. It seemed there was no escaping it. At two in the morning, Carter finally came home. The moment he walked through the door, our eyes met. Neither of us said a word. Carter's gaze drifted to the table covered in takeout containers. He marched over, ripped the crispy pork belly and cream puffs out of my hands, and threw them straight into the trash. "Eat, eat, eat. That’s all you do! Keep this up and you'll turn into a giant whale!" The last time he spoke to me like that was a year ago, right after Chloe returned from abroad. He showered her with endless compliments right in front of me, then turned around and mocked me, calling me a beached whale. From that day on, I ate strict diet meals for an entire year. Seeing me stay silent, he tossed a high-end designer shapewear set onto my lap. "Chloe bought this specifically for you. See how thoughtful she is? She even said that if you don't accept her apology, she’ll delete her Ins account." I looked at the tag on the shapewear—Accentuates Curves for a Flawless Body—and chuckled. Chloe really knew how to push my buttons. Carter saw me smile and assumed I was over it. He handed me my phone from the table. "Chloe went out of her way to be sweet. Aren't you going to thank her?" I ignored him and kept staring at the TV. "Faith, are you fucking deaf?" He grabbed my arm and yanked me up. Losing my balance, I crashed hard onto the floor. My lower back slammed right into the sharp corner of the coffee table. Agony tore through me. That was an old injury. Seven years ago, during that terrible fire, a burning beam fell on my back when I dragged Carter out of the flames. I curled into a ball on the floor, clutching my waist, trembling from the sheer pain. Carter looked at me, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "I'll go get the ointment." I looked up at his retreating back. I wanted to call out and stop him, but I bit my tongue. The ultrasound report had been sitting in the drawer for three days now. When the results came in, the doctor specifically warned me to stay stress-free in the first trimester and to be extremely cautious with medications—especially topical ointments. I had planned to tell him on Christmas Day that we had a new little member joining our family. Now, it seemed completely pointless. Carter rushed over with the first-aid kit, dug through it frantically for a few seconds, and suddenly froze. "Where is the ointment? Did someone..." He stopped mid-sentence. I caught the brief shift on his face—panic mixed with raw guilt. Suddenly, a comment Chloe had left on Ins flashed through my mind: "He’s the sweetest guy ever. I burned myself cooking, and he brought over this rare, imported ointment to put on me right away." If this were before, I would have grilled Carter about whether he gave that imported cream—the one I had begged a friend abroad to buy—to Chloe. But this time, I didn't bother calling him out. I gave a faint, resigned smile. "Carter, stop looking. I'll go buy some." Carter frowned at me sternly. "How are you going anywhere like that? Stay put. I'll go—" Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and answered instantly. "Chloe, what's wrong?" Chloe’s pitiful sobs came through the speaker. "Mr. Hayes, I was feeling down and having a drink at a club... Some sketchy guys are cornering me and trying to force me into their car. They said if I don't go, they'll kill me..." "Mr. Hayes, can you please come save me? Please..." Carter slammed the first-aid kit onto the couch and shot to his feet. "Chloe, don't panic. I'm on my way." "Mr. Hayes, thank you... but maybe you shouldn't come. Your wife will be furious. I'll... I'll figure something out myself!" "She has no right to be mad." With that, he cast a cold, detached glance down at me, still curled on the floor. After hanging up, he rushed toward the door. "Carter, wait." I called out after him. "Faith, can you stop causing drama for once?!" "How are you going to save anyone without your phone and wallet?" I pointed at the couch. His phone and wallet were lying quietly right next to the first-aid kit. Carter looked at the kit, momentarily stunned. "I have to go save Chloe first. When I get back, I'll take you to the ER." Without waiting for a reply, he bolted out the door.Daylight broke. Carter never came back. The pain intensified until I couldn't take it anymore, so I finally dialed 911 for an ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics, I scrolled through Ins. A new post from Chloe popped up right on my feed. Her post basically said that some thugs had tried to harass her at a bar, but Carter arrived just in time to rescue her. He got into a brawl with them and even took a punch for her, which touched her deeply. Attached below was a photo of Chloe, eyes glistening with tears, gently dabbing antiseptic on Carter’s bruised face. Her caption read: "True love can conquer all odds, and brave all storms." A comment underneath read: "How can you resist a guy that gorgeous right in front of you? Girl, is there something wrong with your taste?" Another piped up: "Right?! If he were in front of me, I’d be tending to his wounds too... just in a very different way..." Chloe replied with a smug smirk emoji: "What's the rush? He'll be mine sooner or later!" Then, another user posted a video in the comments: "OMG, what a coincidence! I saw you guys there!" In the clip, Chloe was sobbing into his chest, looking delicate and helpless, while Carter shoved the thugs aside and wrapped an arm around her, leading her out. The look in his eyes when he stared down at her was so tender, so fiercely protective. It suddenly hit me—two weeks ago, Carter had invited a group of friends out for drinks at an exclusive private lounge. When I arrived, nobody was there yet. Carter had texted saying he had urgent business at the office and would be there shortly. Not long after, a man walked in. He was one of Carter’s business partners, Logan. Carter talked about him all the time, saying he was young and ambitious. Within two years of taking over his company, he’d already closed a Series B funding round and was heading for an IPO. Logan sized me up from head to toe, then slid closer to where I was sitting. "Hey, beautiful. You're even hotter than Carter described." Stunned, I opened my mouth to speak, but his hand clamped over my mouth before I could make a sound. "Carter told me you have an incredible body—curves in all the right places, and completely submissive. No matter how rough anyone plays with you, you never fight back." Logan violently grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing my body flush against his. He whispered directly into my ear, "Is that true? You really don't fight back? No matter what I do to you..." I shoved him with everything I had, thrashing to break free. My resistance pissed him off. He leaned in and sank his teeth viciously into my neck. When I bit back a scream, he took his freshly lit cigar and pressed the glowing tip right against my chest. The searing burn sent blinding agony through me. With a burst of adrenaline, I shoved him off and bolted out of the room. As I ran into the lobby, I literally ran into Carter and Chloe. Carter looked right through me as if I didn't exist. Wrapping an arm around Chloe’s waist, he casually guided her past me. Chloe even turned back to give me a smug little wave. Hanging around her flawless, pale neck was a breathtaking, heart-shaped yellow diamond necklace. It looked painfully familiar. Carter had won it at a Sotheby’s auction. He told me back then that he was saving it as my Christmas gift. Later, he claimed I was too fat to pull it off. It wasn't until the middle of the night that Carter stumbled home, reeking of alcohol. "Faith, what the hell was your problem today? You stormed off before everyone even arrived! Who gave you the right to act like some spoiled brat?" Instead of answering his shouting, I unbuttoned my sleep shirt. I showed him the raw bite mark on my neck and the blistered cigar burn on my chest. His expression twisted in shock, and he stepped closer. "Babe, are you okay? How did this happen?" I told him every single detail of what Logan did to me at the lounge. He scoffed, his face turning cold. "Faith, do you get off on lying to me?" "If you're going to lie, at least make up something believable! Why would Logan ever want you? Did you use some pathetic trick to throw yourself at him?" He grabbed my hair and dragged me over to the full-length mirror in the closet. The reflection staring back at me was a total wreck—messy hair, face stained with tears, eyes swollen like golf balls. "Take a good, hard look at yourself, Faith. Who the hell would ever want you?" "Look at the fat on your stomach. Don't you make yourself sick?" With that, he walked out and slammed the bedroom door. I collapsed on the floor of the closet, sobbing until sunrise. The next day, Carter bought me a Cartier diamond necklace to smooth things over. I thought I could bury that humiliation and pretend it never happened. But seeing that video in Chloe's Ins comments brought it all flooding back—the exact same disgust and mockery in his eyes. The siren wailed as the ambulance pulled up. The paramedics lifted me onto the stretcher. While lying in the ER with an IV running into my vein, I texted my best friend, Mia. Mia, I'm getting a divorce.After being discharged, I rested at home for a few days. I thought I would finally get some peace and quiet, until my phone began buzzing non-stop. Exhausted, I answered. Carter's voice on the other end was icy. "I'm coming to pick you up for dinner." Before I could reply, he hung up. I figured it was best to keep things civil before signing the divorce papers, so I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs. Seeing how drained and pale I looked, Carter suddenly seemed to remember the ointment he'd promised to buy. "The restaurant is right past the hospital. I'll drop you off there first." "No need. It's been days. I'm fine." He let out a long sigh of relief. "I figured. I mean, it's been seven years. If it still hurts, it's honestly all in your head." I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah. Seven years." Seven years ago, I used every ounce of strength I had to shove Carter out of that burning building, leaving myself trapped under a collapsing, blazing roof beam. Three fractured ribs. A cracked tailbone. Even now, after all these years, the slightest bump triggered unbearable pain. I never told him about the permanent nerve damage because I didn't want him drowning in guilt. It wasn't "paranoia," like he claimed. Yet we had been together for seven years. If he cared about me—even a little—how could he not know how much I hurt? Carter kept his eyes on the road, casually talking about that night. "After I got Chloe out of that bar, she was terrified. I stayed with her for a couple of days just to make sure she was safe. Don't go overthinking it." I stared numbly out the passenger window. "I'm not overthinking anything. She's your secretary. Staying by her side makes total sense." Carter didn't like my tone. He slammed on the brakes, causing my AirPods to slip off my lap and roll under the seat. I bent down to grab them. Instead, my fingers brushed against a sheer, lacy G-string hidden under the passenger seat. Two weeks ago, finding this would have driven me insane. I would have screamed, cried, and demanded answers. Now, I just smiled faintly, picked up the lace underwear, and tossed it into the back seat. Carter cleared his throat, looking slightly flustered. "Oh... that. Chloe probably left it here by accident after her swim lesson." I nodded quietly and turned back to the window. At the restaurant, a young couple at the next table kept staring at us. Once the girl realized I noticed her, she eagerly walked over. "Excuse me, aren't you the hot CEO from Chloe's Ins? Wow, you're even hotter in person!" Carter glanced up at her. "Can I help you?" The girl leaned in, full of gossip. "Are you and Chloe actually dating?" Carter glanced down at me while I kept quietly picking at my food. Then, he flashed a charming smile at the girl. "Yeah. Chloe and I are together." A sharp cramp stabbed through my lower belly. I offered the girl a faint, polite smile. The girl gave me a puzzled look. "Then... who is she?" "The maid," Carter said without missing a beat. Before leaving, the girl beamed at Carter, swooning, "I'm your biggest fan! You two are endgame—you have to get married!" Once they walked away, Carter casually dropped a scoop of ice cream onto my plate. "Babe, don't take it personally. Chloe's 'Billionaire Romance' series on Ins is blowing up right now. It's great free PR for the firm. She's so thrilled about the numbers. If I ruin the fantasy publicly, it'll break her heart."I couldn't care less about his excuses. "I don't care. You don't need to explain." By then, the stabbing pain in my abdomen was getting worse. I clutched my stomach, breaking out into a cold sweat as the color drained from my face. On the drive back, Carter's phone rang again. It was Chloe. "Mr. Hayes, could you please come pick me up from the pool? My outfit is... kind of revealing, and I feel really uncomfortable calling an Uber. Pretty please? Just this once..." Unable to resist her breathless, coquettish whining, Carter smiled softly. "Alright, alright. I'm on my way." He hung up, reached over, and kissed the back of my hand. "Babe, let's go pick up Chloe together. That way, you won't get any crazy ideas." "Carter, you can't go. My stomach hurts so badly. Take me to the ER right now! Hurry!" His face darkened instantly. "Faith, can you stop being so dramatic? I invited you along so you wouldn't be suspicious, and now you're pulling this sick routine?" "I'm not playing games! Take me to the damn hospital! I'm not joking, Carter, I'm in agonizing pain!" "Stop faking it. Your acting sucks." Suddenly, I felt a warm, heavy rush of fluid trickling down between my thighs. "Carter, I'm pregnant! The pain is unbearable—it could be a miscarriage! We have to go to the hospital right now!" Carter didn't believe a single word. He glared at me, pure fury in his eyes. "You usually make up nonsense, but now you're lying about being pregnant?" "We've been married for four years without using protection once!" "You couldn't get pregnant in four whole years, but the exact second I need to pick up Chloe, you're suddenly carrying a baby?" His temper boiled over. He slammed on the brakes, pulling the car abruptly to the curb. "Get the fuck out! Get out!" "Aren't you in such a rush to get to the hospital? Dying of pain? Bleeding out? Then get the hell out of my car! You're making me late for Chloe!" "Fine. I'll get out." The moment I unbuckled and reached for the door, he grabbed my arm aggressively. "I gave you too much slack, and now you think you can disrespect me whenever you want!" "Let's get a divorce, Carter." The word hit him like a slap. He froze. "Divorce?" I nodded calmly. "Mia already had the paperwork drawn up." He let go of my arm, staring at me in disbelief. "Faith, you actually want to divorce me? You better think this through. No other man would ever put up with an insecure, melodramatic psycho like you." "I've thought it through. Goodbye." I pushed open the door and stepped out. Before both my feet hit the ground, he slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. The sudden acceleration jerked the open door, slamming it into my body and throwing me violently onto the asphalt. Amidst the terrified screams of pedestrians, I collapsed into a pooling puddle of blood. Carter never looked back. He just sped away.