The first love of my movie star
husband came back.
Chapter 1
The awards ceremony was dazzling, the lights
hot on my face as my husband, Mark,
clutched his trophy.
He said he wanted to thank someone special.
My heart swelled, ready for him to finally
acknowledge me, to tell the world I was his
wife.
Instead, he choked out the name of his first
love, Sarah, his “one that got away.”
The internet exploded, everyone gushing over
their epic romance.
Г
And just as the frenzy peaked, photos of me
getting into Mark’s car surfaced.
Suddenly, I, his lawful wife, was branded a
homewrecker, a mistress, the villain in their
love story.
Sarah’s return to the States was a media
circus.
Mark personally picked her up from the
airport.
The headlines screamed: “Movie Star
Sweethearts Reunite! Mark Greets Sarah with
a Tender Embrace!”
I saw the news flash across my phone screen
لحصن المنام
<
My finger lingered on their intertwined faces,
then I swiped away the image, opened my
messages, and typed a reply.
“I’ll take the role in ‘Desert Bloom.‘ I’ll be in
LA in a week.”
Mark was grinning at his phone when I got
home.
He quickly flipped it over as I walked past, his
face hardening.
“Who said you could snoop?”
I reached for my jacket next to him.
“Just changing my clothes.
“”
く
We’d been married a year, the wedding just
weeks away, yet he still refused to
acknowledge me publicly.
Mark stood up, his expression icy.
“You have a press junket tomorrow.‘
وو
“Okay.”
“And the wedding dress fitting… Wait,
what?”
My quick agreement caught him off guard.
He stared, eyes narrowed.
“Jenna…”
The bathroom door swung open.
Sarah emerged, draped in Mark’s oversized
shirt.
“Mark, darling, even after all these years, you
still remember my favorite brand of
tampons… Oh, hi Jenna.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. My time of the
month surprised me, had to borrow some
clothes.”
Mark’s gaze fixed on Sarah’s long, bare legs.
He rushed to wrap his jacket around her.
His voice was husky.
“You’ll catch a cold, you need pants.”
وو
“Your pants are too big, silly.”
They flirted openly, oblivious to me.
As Mark carried Sarah upstairs, she peeked
over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in her
eyes.
“Jenna, do you mind if I try on the wedding
dress for you tomorrow?”
She asked me, but her eyes were locked on
Mark.
He chuckled indulgently.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
That’s the magic of a first love, I guess.
Even with our weading looming, ivιark s
attention gravitated to her like a moth to a
flame.
The next day, Sarah sent me a picture.
Her, in my wedding dress, beaming at Mark,
who stood beside her in a suit, their heads
touching.
“Jenna, I tried on the dress. It’s beautiful, fits
perfectly.”
I closed my phone, didn’t reply.
She’d tried on more than the dress.
She’d tried on my man, and she seemed to fit
him better too.
<
Mark didn’t come home that night.
I sat on the couch with a bowl of hangover
soup, waiting.
The second night, I went to bed early.
Mark yanked me from the covers, his body
radiating cold.
He pinned my shoulders, his lips finding the
hollow of my throat.
I snapped awake.
“Please, not tonight,” I begged.
I couldn’t bear his touch, not with Sarah’s
perfume clinging to him.
Mark’s eyes darkened.
He sneered.
“This is your punishment for not waiting.”
The moon hid behind a cloud as his kisses
became rougher, my pleas lost in the rhythm
of his movements.
In the struggle, my script slid from under the
pillow.
Mark snatched it, scanned the pages, and
ripped it to shreds.
“Jenna, you’re getting bold.”
Mark wasn’t just my husband, he was my
boss
L
I couldn’t take any jobs without his
permission.
He’d won two Best Actor awards because of
this arrangement, while I remained a no-
name, playing bit parts in his films.
“An all–English script? Behind my back…”
A shrill ringtone sliced through the silence.
Sarah’s ringtone.
Mark released me instantly, answering the
phone.
“Marky, the showerhead broke. I’m naked and
freezing. Come quick!”
The anger in Mark’s eves vanished replaced
<
by concern.
He was suddenly sober.
“Don’t worry, baby. Stay put, I’ll bring you
some clothes.”
He didn’t look back as he grabbed his keys
and left.
The contrast between his treatment of me
and Sarah was stark.
I watched him go, then went to take a
shower.
As the hot water cascaded over me, I
remembered being trapped in an elevator,
terrified, calling Mark for help.
L
His response? “I’m not a fireman, what good
am I?”
The difference between love and indifference
was crystal clear.
As if to punish me further, Mark had my
agency drop all my work.
I packed my personal belongings and donated
them, leaving the expensive jewelry and
designer clothes he’d bought me untouched.
After I’d finished, Mark called.
He told me to stay home, stay off social
media.
I was confused until I saw the internet
explode with hate.
Г
The pictures of us in the car had been leaked.
Mark’s fans, convinced Sarah was his
fiancée, went on the attack.
I, his wife, was painted as the other woman.
Sarah issued a statement: “Mark and I are
childhood friends. If there’s any good news,
I’ll let you know first.
||
A seemingly innocent clarification that only
solidified their special bond, making me look
even more like an intruder.
To add insult to injury, Mark liked her post.
My endorsements were canceled, reality show
gigs vanished.
Г
The online abuse intensified slut,
–
homewrecker, whore. They photoshopped my
face onto obituary templates.
Worst of all, they didn’t stop at me.
They targeted my family, spewing vile curses
and threats.
I disguised myself and went to Mark’s office,
hoping a simple clarification from him would
stop the attacks on my family.
But I overheard him say, coldly, that I was just
a stand–in for Sarah, nothing worth clarifying.
My hand tightened around the doorknob,
knuckles white.
く
eyes had been directed at someone else, a
ghost of his past.
So, the occasional flicker of tenderness in his
No wonder he’d never kissed me, not even
after we were married.
