Unbalanced love

I’d been married to Brian for five years. In that time, both his “the one that got away” and his current flame had been extinguished, thanks to my subtle (okay, maybe not so subtle) influence as his wife.

People praised my ability to tame a playboy.

But I knew the truth. He was just bored, looking for a fresh start, and wanted to look good doing it.

My love had become his convenient weapon.

On our fifth anniversary, I watched a teary-eyed girl beg Brian not to leave her.

The buttercream cake was smeared across the floor. I wiped it up with napkins while Brian made phone calls, a smile plastered on his face.

I felt pathetic and ridiculous.

Without warning, I asked for a divorce.

He raised an eyebrow, scoffing, “New tactic to get my attention? I’m not falling for it, Sarah.”

I smiled faintly, not bothering to reply, and boarded a plane to Europe.

If my love wasn’t reciprocated, cutting my losses was the best I could do for myself.

“Divorce?”

Brian’s smile froze, a flicker of confusion in his eyes quickly replaced by mockery.

He raised a brow, his fingers dancing across his phone screen.

A moment later, I received a large sum of money via transfer.

“Don’t try this next time, Sarah. You don’t have the leverage anymore.”

Disgust dripped from his words. He acted as if every word I spoke was a veiled attempt at seduction.

I took a deep breath, met his gaze, and tried to maintain my composure.

“I’m serious, Brian.”

Brian’s smile didn’t falter, but after years together, I knew he was furious.

“Sarah, what are you playing at? This girl was a mistake.”

“A mistake? How many ‘mistakes’ are we going to have?!”

My composure shattered. I couldn’t keep the hysteria from my voice.

Brian opened his mouth to retort, but seeing my face, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It was wrong of me to let it get this far, but you’ve dealt with this before. Don’t be dramatic.”

His condescending tone, the dismissive look in his eyes, it was like a thousand tiny needles pricking my heart.

Brian’s phone rang again. The girl on the other end giggled.

“Be right there, babe,” Brian murmured, a tenderness I hadn’t seen in ages.

I stared, lost in thought, until Brian’s voice cut through the haze.

“Are we done here? Clean up this mess. I have to go.”

I looked up at his impassive face.

What did he think I was?

A maid?

His mistress’s clean-up crew?

“Brian, if you walk out that door, we’re really done.”

I don’t remember exactly what he said.

All I remember is the look he gave me, full of derision.

My heart, already numb with pain, clenched again.

I sank to the floor, tears spilling down my cheeks.

The buttercream in my hand had melted, the sweetness turning sickeningly sticky.

Just like my marriage.

We met at an awards ceremony.

I was a newbie actress; he was my investor.

There was no dramatic backstory. He simply saw potential in me, a good investment.

With his backing, I went from nobody to a two-time award-winning actress in just three years.

Everything that followed seemed natural.

At twenty-three, I retired from acting, shedding my name to become Mrs. Harrison.

That’s when I learned the true extent of Brian’s philandering.

He was charming, wealthy, and successful. Women flocked to him.

I cried, screamed, and questioned him.

Brian just smirked, his breath warm against my ear as he delivered the words that broke me.

“If you can’t handle it, leave. Plenty of women would kill to be Mrs. Harrison.”

The position of Mrs. Harrison. I had taken it, ungrateful.

Now it was time to return it.

I heard from Brian three days later.

I stared at the divorce papers, sitting by the window, lost in memories.

“Sarah.”

Just my name, and yet my resolve crumbled.

“Mom’s birthday is today. I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll change, I promise. There won’t be anyone else.”

Should I believe him?

Logic and emotion warred within me.

He sounded sincere. We had loved each other once. Maybe he was finally ready to settle down.

“Okay.”

I agreed, but the reality that awaited me was terrifying.

I stared at the girl helping my mother-in-law out of the car. It felt surreal. Brian stroked the girl’s hair tenderly.

This was the girl from the phone call, Natalie.

The only girl Brian hadn’t asked me to get rid of.

What was she doing here?

I stood frozen, my mind racing.

Natalie smiled shyly and snuggled into Brian’s side. Noticing me, she rushed over, a sweet smile on her face, and took my hand.

“Sarah!”

I saw the marks on her neck and recoiled, ripping my hand away.

“Get your hands off me!”

Slap

I clutched my cheek, staring at my enraged mother-in-law.

“You have no right to speak to her like that! Get on your knees and apologize.”

Her harsh words cut me to the core. I looked at Brian, pleading for help.

He met my gaze, then patted Natalie’s hand reassuringly. He stood up, his voice cold as ice.

“You laid hands on her first. You should apologize. We Harrisons believe in fairness.”

He spoke as casually as if discussing breakfast.

“Why? Brian, don’t forget, I’m your wife!”

Tears streamed down my face as my dignity was trampled.

My mother-in-law had always disliked me. A small-town girl wasn’t good enough for her golden boy.

Brian had threatened to cut ties with his family to marry me. It was a huge scandal. Everyone said he was madly in love with me.

I believed it too.

In the end, his mother couldn’t bear to lose her son and accepted me.

Brian stared at me, impatience etched on his face.

“After all these years, you still haven’t learned basic respect. Are you trying to embarrass me at Mom’s birthday?”

“Get on your knees. You can get up when Natalie forgives you.”

Bitterness filled my mouth. I gritted my teeth, clinging to my last shred of pride.

“Brian, I refuse.”

Brian looked surprised, then furious.

“Brian, it’s okay. I don’t blame Sarah,” Natalie said, all innocence and tears.

She came closer, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.

Then she whispered in my ear, “You know, I’m pregnant with Brian’s baby.”

“I heard you can’t have kids anymore after your miscarriage. Well, it makes sense. A mutt like you shouldn’t be having Brian’s babies anyway. It would be a fate worse than death to be born to you.”

My world exploded. I wanted to tear her apart.

She could insult me all she wanted, but she wouldn’t talk about my child.

The next moment, I was on the ground, Brian rushing to Natalie’s side, checking if she was okay. He then held her close, whispering soothing words.

He turned to me, his eyes full of hate.

“Sarah! I thought you were better than this! If anything happens to Natalie’s baby, I’ll make you pay!”

So that was it.

His apology, his promises, all to protect his precious Natalie and their child.

He was afraid a divorce would hurt his company, so he wanted me to accept the child, accept them, in this humiliating public display.

My love, my marriage, it was all a figment of my imagination.

How pathetic.

A cry of pain broke the tension.

Natalie’s face was pale, blood trickling down her legs.

“Brian, it hurts…”

Then silence.

Panic seized Brian. He scooped Natalie into his arms and rushed out.

I watched him go, a wave of nausea washing over me.

I had been pregnant once.

During our first year of marriage. I had been so stressed, so anxious, I hadn’t even realized. By the time I found out, the baby was gone.

Brian had held me, sobbing, apologizing profusely. We moved out of his mother’s house after that, only returning for special occasions.

Maybe fate was cruel. Despite trying, I hadn’t been able to conceive again.

I spent seven days in the hospital. Brian never visited.

Not even a text message.

Without hope, there was no room for disappointment.

I left the hospital alone and ran into the Harrison family car.

“Mrs. Harrison, please get in.”

The driver was polite, respectful.

This was Brian’s usual tactic, sending someone to pick me up, offering me a way back. Now it felt like a reminder that everything I had was because of him.

I wanted to refuse, but a wave of dizziness forced me to comply.

The car stopped at a club. Before I could react, strong hands pulled me out.

Inside, the lights were dim. Brian sat on a couch with Natalie, whispering in her ear.

The bodyguards threw me into the room. All eyes turned to me.

Brian stood up, his voice booming.

“Sarah, kneel and apologize to Natalie.”

I thought I’d misheard.

Even with his blatant favoritism, he wouldn’t humiliate me like this, in public.

“Brian, you’re dreaming.”

“Sarah! Don’t make me do this!”

His eyes were bloodshot.

“You caused Natalie to lose our baby! This is what you deserve!”

I couldn’t believe the man standing before me.

Natalie sauntered over, tears tracing paths down her perfectly made-up face.

“It’s my fault, Brian. I wasn’t meant to carry your baby. Don’t be mad at Sarah.”

Brian’s heart melted. He wiped away her tears, then signaled to his bodyguards.

My knees buckled. I was forced to the ground.

Someone held the back of my neck, pressing my forehead against the cold floor.

Once, twice, three times.

My head spun. Brian’s voice echoed in my ears.

“Sarah, don’t blame me. You owe this to Natalie.”

I drifted in and out of consciousness for days at home.

The physical and emotional trauma had taken its toll. I ran a high fever for a week.

I thought Brian visited a few times, but when I opened my eyes, I only saw Mr. Henderson, our housekeeper.

What was I still hoping for?

I laughed bitterly and checked my phone. Brian, who rarely posted on social media, had uploaded dozens of photos.

All of Natalie.

I scrolled mechanically until one picture stopped me cold.

It was me, pale and kneeling on the floor, my head bowed.

The caption read, “No one hurts my princess.”

He had publicly humiliated me.

I booked a one-way ticket to America.

It took me three hours to pack up three years of marriage.

As I left, Mr. Henderson put a hand on my shoulder, his face etched with concern.

“Mrs. Harrison, Mr. Harrison, he just… acted rashly…”

He must have seen the pictures. The humiliation. The degradation.

I smiled sadly. “It’s over. And I’m not Mrs. Harrison anymore.”

I handed him the signed divorce papers and walked out, not looking back.

Six years of love, finally over.

Half an hour before boarding, I changed my phone and my number.

As the plane took off, everything about Brian Harrison went into the trash.

From now on, there was only Sarah.