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Two days before their fifth wedding anniversary, Freda Lane clutched her pregnancy test results and secretly flew to Ireland, hoping to surprise her husband who was away on business.
She rushed excitedly to Cyril Prescott’s hotel room, and as she approached the half–open door, voices drifted out from inside.
“Congratulations, Cyril! Living the dream with two women! Here’s to you and Jolie Hart–happy wedding!”
“So Cyril’s serious about Jolie? Flying all the way to Ireland just to marry her. They take marriage real seriously in Ireland. No divorce–just widowhood!”
“Isn’t this bigamy?” someone asked curiously.
“That’s where you’re wrong, buddy! Cyril never married Freda Lane for real back then. He’s been unmarried five years, just sittin‘ tight for Jolie to turn legal!”
“Damn, Cyril’s been playing the long game, huh?”
Freda stood frozen outside, her blood turning to ice.
She thought she’d misheard, but the next words shattered her world completely.
“I’m serious about Jolie, okay? She risked her life to save Freda with that blood transfusion, and she’s been willing to live in her shadow forever. She can take care of Freda with me. All she wants is a real marriage, and I can give her that.” Cyril’s voice was calm and deliberate.
Freda instinctively stepped back, Jolie Hart’s mature, seductive face flashing before her eyes.
Five years ago, when Freda was in a car accident, it was Jolie–then just a high school student–who rushed her to the hospital and donated blood to save her life.
Jolie grew up in poverty, with only her ailing mother by her side. To show their gratitude, Freda and Cyril had covered all of Jolie’s expenses, even arranging for her to study abroad and travel.
Cyril had declared that by saving Freda’s life, Jolie had saved his life too.
He was willing to give anything to show his gratitude.
She just never imagined his idea of gratitude included raising her until she was old enough to marry.
How ridiculous. She’d been completely clueless for five whole years
“What about Freda? Aren’t you worried she’ll find out?” one of Cyril’s buddies couldn’t help asking.
Cyril looked down, his fingers quickly tapping across his phone screen. He spoke with confidence, “I’ll keep loving hér just like I always have. She’ll never find out in this lifetime.”
21:03
When He Married My Savior in Secret. I Became the Queen the World Kneels To
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“You guys better keep your mouths shut. I don’t want any of this drama getting back to Freda.”
The next second, Freda’s phone buzzed.
She stared at Cyril’s message, her chest tightening as ice–cold flooded her body.
[Baby, I miss you so much. I hate these business trips–every single second feels like agony without my beautiful wife by my side. I’m doing everything I can to get home for our special day. Love you.]
Freda gripped her phone and glanced up at Cyril through the doorway. He was smiling, casually unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt, his eyes gleaming with some unreadable light.
Her vision blurred as tears welled up.
This wasn’t her Cyril Prescott.
Cyril was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who broke his leg climbing through her bedroom window to retrieve her hair clip, then comfort her while she cried.
He was the eighteen–year–old who braved a snowstorm to climb a mountain just to confess his love, promising he’d love her forever and never lie to her.
At twenty, he hand–wrote 9,999 love letters and spent months baking a hundred different cakes to propose to her.
Her Cyril was the twenty–two–year–old who planned their dream wedding and couldn’t bear to be apart from her for even a moment after they were married…
Not this lying bastard who claimed to love her while marrying another woman.
Freda’s heart felt like it was being ripped apart. She bit down hard on her lip.
The conversation inside continued, but she couldn’t stand to hear another word.
Her phone buzzed again. Cyril was calling.
She remembered the time she’d forgotten her phone at home. When Cyril couldn’t get hold of her for three hours, he’d Send the entire Prescott Corporation staff to search for her.
The moment he found her, his eyes were red as he pulled her into his arms. “Freda, I thought you were leaving me. I can’t live without you.”
From that day on, she never forgot her phone again, and she always answered his calls.
But now, she had no intention of picking up.
Inside the room, panic overtook Cyril as he stood up abruptly and cut off the others‘ conversation. “Everyone shut up! Why isn’t my wife answering her phone?”
A brief silence fell over the room.
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“Relax, Cyril. Maybe Freda just didn’t see it.”
“Dude, you’re way too clingy with your wife. Missing a call here and there is totally normal.”
“No, it’s not! You guys don’t understand the love we have!”
Cyril’s brow furrowed, his worry and anxiety seeming completely genuine. He paced back and forth, calling her over and over again.
Standing outside the door, Freda found it utterly ridiculious. He’d fallen in love with someone else, yet he could still put on this act of caring about her.
Could his heart really hold two people at once?
Freda texted him back: [In the shower. Call you later.]
His face visibly relaxed, even breaking into a smile.
“Baby, I can’t live without you. Please promise me you’ll never go.”
Reading this message, Freda finally broke down in tears.
They’d been together for seven years, married for five, and he’d always expressed his love with such direct, passionate words.
But the truth was, he’d never even given her a legal marriage.
Footsteps echoed from inside the room, and Freda quickly escaped to the stairwell.
Cyril emerged with the group and walked across the hall, entering the keycode to the room directly opposite.
Jolie Hart appeared wearing a stunning red cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, her curves accentuated perfectly. Her face held a seductive maturity that seemed beyond her years. The moment she saw Cyril, she pressed herself against him.
“Honey, do you like this dress on me?”
“Of course. My gorgeous girl looks amazing in anything.”
Cyril’s lips curved into a smile as he wrapped his arm around her waist, heading toward the elevator.
His eyes stayed fixed on Jolie, completely oblivious to the figure hiding behind the stairwell door.
Freda felt like her heart was being carved up with a dull knife, the relentless pain suffocating her. She collapsed to the floor, curling into a ball.
If she’d still been struggling internally before, still making excuses for Cyril, now she had to face the brutal truth: Cyril Prescott was genuinely in love with another woman.
After crying herself nearly unconscious, Freda slowly pulled herself to her feet. She would never accept her
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husband loving two women at once.
Since they were already legally married, she’d give them what they wanted.
She would disappear from Cyril Prescott’s world completely.
Freda took a taxi to the airport and bought a ticket on the earliest flight home.
The first thing she did when she got back was schedule an abortion at the hospital.
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