The Invisible Wife

On an autumn afternoon, sunlight was dimmed beneath heavy clouds; the wind bore withered sycamore leaves, swirling as they fell upon the steps before the hospital outpatient building. Clutching the review report, my fingers grew pale; the words 'No Abnormalities Detected' should have brought reassurance, yet the heavy tightness in my chest persisted without relief. As I stepped through the glass doors of the outpatient building, the tip of my shoe was gently brushed by a drifting leaf, its icy touch creeping upward along my sole. At that moment, my cell phone vibrated twice, the screen lighting up with a message from my niece, Sophia Miller. "Aunt, you have to watch this video!" The message was accompanied by a blue link and three blurred screenshots. A sudden tightness seized my heart as I settled onto a roadside bench; the metal armrest, chilled by the autumn wind, transmitted a biting cold through the thin fabric of my clothing. My fingers glided over the screen, and the moment I opened the link, a familiar figure emerged — my husband, Mario Lewis. He wore a bespoke dark gray suit, his hair impeccably styled, standing side by side with a woman on the red-carpeted podium. Together, they held a crystal trophy, the words 'Business Partner of the Year' glaring under the lights. That woman is someone I know all too well; she is Tina Jones, the business partner of Mario Lewis. She wore a champagne-colored gown, her makeup impeccable, and in her eyes directed at Mario Lewis was a candid intimacy. On stage, the host held a microphone, his face bearing a professional smile, his voice carrying through the screen: "Mr. Lewis, there have been persistent rumors within the industry that you have been secretly married for many years. Furthermore, Ms. Jones beside you, both in family background and ability, is considered a 'match made in heaven' for you. How do you respond to this allegation?" Mario Lewis took the microphone, lightly tapping its shell with his knuckles, a vague smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "A tacit understanding in business indeed requires time to cultivate." His voice was gentle, yet each word pierced my heart like a needle—he neither denied the secret marriage rumors nor uttered a single word about me, as if I, his wife of fifteen years, had never existed. My fingers trembled as I opened the screenshots. In the first, Tina Jones's scarf was slightly askew in the wind, and Mario Lewis reached out to adjust it, his fingertips brushing her chin unintentionally; the tenderness in his gaze was unlike anything I had ever seen. Married for fifteen years, he never even truly touched the scarf I gave him on my birthday, yet he cherished another woman so deeply. The second screenshot was a photo of the two of them beneath the stage; Tina Jones's hand rested on Mario Lewis's arm, her head slightly tilted, smiling radiantly; In the third, they stood before a backdrop, Mario Lewis's hand quietly placed behind Tina Jones's waist, their posture intimate as if they were truly lovers. I stared at the screen, my fingertips so cold I could barely hold the cell phone. Married for fifteen years, I abandoned the paintbrush I had cherished since childhood, hastily stowing away my art supplies in the storage room, devoting my days entirely to housework and his daily needs—during the early days of his startup, I helped him organize documents late into the night; He was on a business trip, and I had already packed his luggage in advance, even dividing the usual cold medicine into doses; when he came home late from social engagements, I always kept a light on, with a warm hangover soup. But now, I have become the "secret wife" he is unwilling to mention, a stumbling block in the unspoken understanding he maintains with others. The cell phone vibrated again; it was still Sophia Miller's W Chat message: "Aunt, are you alright? I also saw it on a live industry broadcast. I feared you might not know, so I hurried to send it to you." I took a deep breath, my fingers slowly tapping out on the screen the few words: "I'm fine, not talking now," then immediately turned off the phone after sending. The cars traversed the road incessantly, their horns sounding in relentless succession, yet I perceived a terrifying silence around me, with only the pounding of my heart resounding in my ears. All my strength seemed to be drained instantly, and even my breaths carried a chill.