Chapter 1 – The Beautiful Bride

My name is Ethan Carter. I am thirty-two. People think I am lucky. I have money. I have a big business. People respect me. They think my life is easy. But my heart was empty. I wanted love. I wanted a wife who could stay with me. I wanted someone who could stand by me in good and bad days. I did not need her to love my money. I only wanted her to love me.

One day I saw Lydia. She was twenty-seven. She was beautiful and quiet. Her face was soft. Her smile was small. Her eyes were deep. I looked at her and I thought, “This is the woman who can change my life. This is the woman I want to marry.” I felt hope for the first time in many years.

I spoke to her parents. They liked me. They said, “Ethan, you are a good man. You can give our daughter a safe home. You can protect her. You can give her a good life.” They were happy with me. They wanted this marriage. Lydia stayed silent. She did not say yes. She did not say no. I thought her silence meant she agreed. I thought she trusted me.

The day of the wedding came. There were lights. There were guests. People clapped. They called us a perfect pair. They looked at me with respect. They looked at Lydia with admiration. They said, “What a lucky woman. What a lucky man.” I smiled and believed them. I looked at Lydia and I told myself, “My new life begins today.” But when I looked into her eyes, I saw something that made me pause. Her eyes were sad. There was beauty, but there was also pain. I told myself, “She is nervous. Every bride is nervous.” I ignored the feeling in my chest.

After the wedding, I wanted to give her happiness. I bought her gifts. I spoke to her with care. I told her, “Lydia, you are my world. I will give you everything I have.” She smiled. But her smile was thin. It was not the smile of a woman who felt safe in love. It was the smile of a woman who was hiding something.

At night she was quiet. She looked away. She turned to the side of the bed and closed her eyes quickly. I asked once, “Are you happy with me?” She said, “Yes, Ethan, I am fine.” But her eyes did not match her words. Her eyes carried a secret.

The days passed. I saw small signs. She kept her phone close. She typed messages and hid the screen. She walked away when she answered a call. Sometimes I heard her whisper in the next room. Sometimes I saw her wipe her tears quickly when she thought I was not looking.

I told myself not to doubt her. I said in my heart, “Trust her. Give her time. Maybe she only feels shy. Maybe she only needs space.” I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe we were building love.

But the truth knocked at my door soon. One evening I came home early. Lydia was sitting alone with her phone. Her voice was soft, almost breaking. I heard her say, “I miss you too.” My body froze. I stood quietly for a moment. She did not see me. Then she looked up and our eyes met. She ended the call at once. She wiped her face and said, “It was just a friend.” I smiled. I nodded. But inside, my heart broke into pieces.

That night I sat beside her and said, “Lydia, if something is in your heart, tell me. I will listen. I will not judge you. I only ask for honesty.” She shook her head. She said, “No, Ethan, there is nothing.” Her voice was steady. But her hands were shaking. She could not look me in the eye.

I could not sleep. I looked at her while she rested. She looked peaceful. But I knew peace was not real. I thought, “She is lying next to me. But her soul is not with me. Her body is here. But her heart is far away.”

The next week, I tried harder. I planned dinners. I brought her flowers. I told her stories about my childhood. I spoke about my dreams. I wanted her to feel safe. I wanted her to open her heart. But the wall between us stayed strong. She answered me with short words. She looked into the distance when I spoke.

One day I asked her again, “Are you truly happy with me? Do you want this marriage?” She smiled in a tired way and said, “Ethan, please don’t ask me these things.” That answer hurt me more than any truth. Silence can be louder than words.

I went to the mirror that night. I looked at my face. I told myself, “You are rich. You are respected. But you cannot buy love. You cannot buy her heart.” My reflection looked back at me like a stranger.

Days turned into weeks. People around us thought we were happy. They said, “Look at them, such a blessed couple.” I smiled in front of them. But inside, I was falling apart. Only I knew that my wife’s smile was not mine. Her silence was heavy. Her secrets were alive.

I did not know what the secrets were. But I felt them. I felt them in her eyes. I felt them in her silence. I felt them every time she walked away from me.

I still hoped. I still believed that love could grow. I told myself, “Don’t give up. One day she will tell you. One day she will see your love. One day she will choose you.”

But in the corner of my heart, a fear lived. A fear that my wife was already lost to me. A fear that one day I would know the truth, and that truth would destroy me.

This was the beginning of my story. A story not of joy, but of questions. A story where every smile could be a lie. A story where every silence could hide pain. This was the start of my life with a wife whose dark secrets waited in the shadows.