Chapter 1 The Husband's Indifference

At the start of the year, Summit Ridge District was freezing, like, colder than a witch's tit. Rachel Williams was just zoning out on the living room couch while the high-pitched rant of her mother-in-law, Emily Johnson, was echoing through the house.

"Rachel, it's bad enough you can't have kids! Do you want to starve me and James to death by not cooking at this hour?" Emily's voice grated on Rachel's nerves, just like it had for the past six years of her marriage to Michael Smith. Every single day, Emily never missed a chance to remind Rachel of her so-called failures. But who'd guess her husband had never even touched her?

"Hurry up and help me pack my school bag! I need to go to school!" Michael's younger brother, James Smith, yelled from across the house. To James, Rachel was just an easy target for his pranks and demands.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel dragged herself downstairs, headed to the kitchen, and started making breakfast on autopilot.

"Mom, food's ready!" Rachel called out, though her voice was as cold as a freezer.

Emily stormed into the kitchen, her eyes zeroing in on Rachel's blank face. She slammed her cup on the table, making Rachel flinch.

"Rachel, you live off my son's money, in his house, and this is how you treat me? Do I need to call Michael and have him divorce you?" Emily threatened, her face twisted in anger.

Rachel's hand shook as she held the plate. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Mom, I didn't mean to."

Emily snorted, crossing her arms. "Don't think that just because Mrs. Smith supports you, you'll always be Michael's wife. You're nothing compared to Mandy!" The mention of Mandy Brown sent a chill down Rachel's spine.

James piped up, eyeing Rachel with mischief. "You don't know, do you? Mandy is getting discharged soon. My brother's going to bring her back here to live with us."

Rachel's vision blurred for a moment, her grip on the plate slipping. Emily, looking down on her affected and pitiful demeanor, waved her off dismissively. "Get out of my sight! You're ruining my appetite."

Rachel retreated to the upstairs den, curling up on the sofa as the ache in her heart deepened. By evening, the low rumble of a Maybach pulling into the driveway jolted her from her thoughts. She bolted to the balcony, her heart racing as she peered down. A tall, impeccably dressed man stepped out of the car. Michael's appearance was nothing short of striking, his presence more commanding than any TV star. But the cold, unfeeling look he shot up at Rachel made her heart sink.

Steeling herself, Rachel moved to prepare his bathwater, a nightly ritual she clung to. "Honey, Grandma has been at the Christian mission for almost a month. She called this afternoon to say she's praying for you..." she said.

"I need to talk to you," Michael cut her off.

She turned, meeting his icy blue gaze. His face was expressionless, his detachment cutting deeper than any knife.

"Rachel, Mandy is coming back. You need to move out tomorrow," he demanded.

Rachel's world tilted. James had been right after all. Swallowing hard, she finally found her voice. "What if I don't?" Her words were soft, barely a whisper, carrying the weight of years of silent suffering.

Michael frowned. This was the first time the usually obedient woman had opposed him. He said discontentedly, "Don't forget how you married me six years ago."

How could she forget? When Mandy had a car accident, it was Rachel who called 911 and donated the blood Mandy desperately needed. In gratitude, Michael had offered to grant her one wish. She had asked for the one thing she had always dreamed of – to be his wife, a wish rooted in a crush that dated back to high school.