Six Months After the Wedding
Judith
"I can't keep doing this, Judith. I can't keep hiding, watching everything I do when we go out, or enduring the fact that I can't even hold your hand," Amber said, her voice broken, heavy with pain and exhaustion.
"Love…" I took her hand gently, trying to convey calm. "It won't be long now, just a little more. It must—"
"I must hide," she interrupted me with a trembling sigh.
"We must be cautious, love," I corrected her softly.
Amber looked at me, her expression reflecting deep weariness.
"Judith, I'm tired of being the other woman. I can't stand being that anymore!" she exclaimed, yanking her hand away.
"Love, you're not," I responded immediately, feeling fear rise in me. "I love you. Mel Castle and I only share an empty title—the title of wives—but that will end soon."
Amber lowered her gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"I can't keep going like this. Maybe it's better if we take a break…"
"No!" I interrupted desperately. "I don't want to be apart from you, Amber. I don't want us to take a break."
"Judith, I'm exhausted. I just want to love you without limits, without hiding, without restraining myself, without measuring every gesture in public," she said, her sadness so deep it tore at my soul.
She stepped away and began walking toward the door. Before leaving, she stopped without looking at me, her voice cracking:
"I'll come back for my things later because it's time we take a break."
It felt as though the ground had opened beneath me. I couldn't let her leave. I ran to her and hugged her from behind, clinging with all my strength.
"No, please, don't go. I'll fix everything, just give me a little time," I begged through tears.
But Amber didn't respond. She merely took my hands and pushed them away from her waist firmly. Then she left, leaving me with a shattered heart.
The silence of the room suffocated me. I wouldn't let Amber be taken from me. I had to act immediately. With trembling hands, I dialed Sheldon's number—Mel's assistant. The same man who, on the wedding day—or rather, the mere signing of papers, since she hadn't even shown up—had delivered her message to me: "If you need anything, speak with Sheldon."
Back then, he had told me politely and professionally, "I am at your disposal. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
And now, more than ever, I needed him. I needed him to take me to her to end this farce. She was so clever in business, so sharp in problem-solving… why hadn't she invented a believable lie to justify a divorce already? Six months had passed, and nothing!
Sheldon answered my call without delay. Without preamble, I asked directly:
"Where is she?"
"You mean your wife?" Sheldon replied, instantly irritating me.
"Where is she?" I repeated, on the verge of losing control.
"Anything you need, I can provide; you just have to tell me," he evaded the question.
My patience snapped. I raised my voice, on the brink of exploding:
"Sheldon, I need to speak with her. Tell me where she is."
The silence on the other end made me hold my breath.
"Ma'am, wouldn't it be more appropriate to tell me what you need first?" Sheldon insisted firmly, though evasively.
My patience ran out. Anger overtook me, and I shouted with fury:
"Unless you can become her or are her yourself, that's the only way you can help me, Sheldon. Now tell me where she is!" I yelled, all my frustration contained in that outburst.
A thick silence filled the line. It seemed eternal, unbearable. Then I heard muffled murmurs, as if someone else were with him, deliberating what to do. Finally, his voice returned, graver:
"All right, ma'am… I'll send you her location immediately."
It didn't take long for the address to arrive.
"But I must warn you—"
I didn't hear the rest because, accidentally, I ended the call. I hesitated to redial but decided against it, fearing he might change his mind and she would leave.
The address was in Hawaii, so I took the first flight there. Rage and anguish accompanied me the entire journey.
It had to be a joke—was she really taking a vacation? Seriously? She was enjoying herself while my life and my relationship with Amber were falling apart? Just thinking about it made my blood boil.
As soon as I set foot in Hawaii, I grabbed a taxi and headed to the address Sheldon had given me. I arrived in front of an imposing building: the Castle company offices.
I never imagined they had a branch here too; I didn't stop to think about how much they had expanded since our company's near bankruptcy and went straight to reception, asking to see my wife.
The receptionist looked at me incredulously but kindly and called Sheldon to confirm if I really was his wife. After receiving confirmation, she escorted me to the executive elevator, though she apologized for her disbelief first:
"I'm terribly sorry for the misunderstanding, Mrs. Castle, but almost every day, many slightly crazy girls arrive claiming to be our CEO's wives," she said, visibly embarrassed.
I raised an eyebrow, as now I was the incredulous one. Noticing my expression, she quickly added:
"Don't get me wrong, Mrs. Castle, our CEO would never pay attention to anyone… especially now that she's married to someone as beautiful as you."
Her nervousness and anxiety were obvious, so I simply smiled and entered the elevator, leaving her behind.
When the elevator doors opened, I saw a small reception area upstairs. I moved quickly and found Sheldon waiting by the door that seemed to lead to Mel Castle's office.
"I hope she's in there," I said seriously.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Castle. To answer your question, your wife is inside," he responded politely.
It annoyed me that he reminded me I was his boss's wife, but I couldn't correct him; maintaining our lie was vital.
"Good," I said simply, ready to enter.
However, Sheldon stepped in, making me frown.
"What now, Sheldon?" I murmured, annoyed.
"Your wife isn't feeling well enough to receive visitors," he said cautiously.
"Only if she were in a coma would it be justifiable for me not to see her!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "I didn't make this entire trip just to stand in front of her office… so, I want to speak with her right now, Sheldon."
Sheldon looked at me with regret and, after letting out a heavy sigh, said resignedly:
"All right, but I warned you."
He opened the office door and let me in. He stayed outside, closing it behind me with a slight creak of the hinges.
The room was shrouded in an unsettling gloom. The curtains were drawn, and only three scattered lamps cast a dim, yellowish light, creating long shadows that seemed to move on their own. The atmosphere was so oppressive that, for a moment, I felt as if I had stepped into a horror movie scene.
In a dark corner, slouched and with an odd air, she was there: the woman ruining my life, Mel Castle.
I swallowed hard and walked forward with determined steps, ready to confront her, while she staggered toward me with clumsy, almost childlike movements.
"Hey… hi," she greeted me with a halting voice, accompanied by an awkward smile.
"Mel Castle?" I asked, bewildered.
"Yes, that's me. And… wow, my God, you're so beautiful," she replied, disoriented, staring at me. "You're real…" she murmured, reaching out to brush her fingertips against my skin.
I froze. Was she drunk? The suspicion seemed likely when she took my face in both hands, forcing me to look directly at her.
"You have eyes like a sapphire, my favorite stone in the world… and your little freckles make you look so tender…" she said with a silly smile, as if lost in a dream.
"Sheldon!" I shouted, hoping he would appear and rescue me from this absurd situation.
"If I weren't married… I'd ask you out," Mel continued, moving closer, ignoring my gestures of discomfort.
"Boss, boss!" Sheldon burst in immediately, pulling her away from me firmly.
Mel, laughing, whispered something that actually came out as a clumsy shout:
"Sheldon… she's so pretty…"
Although she thought she was speaking in secret, we all heard her clearly.
"Is she drunk?" I asked Sheldon, still nervously holding onto him.
"No, ma'am…" he replied, stifling a sigh. "It's the syrups she's taken for the cold she has."
"She's like this from just some syrups?" I asked incredulously, unable to believe it.
Sheldon looked away toward the desk and shook his head.
"Really, boss…" he murmured tiredly, helping Mel sit on the sofa. "I told her not to take them all at once, but she didn't listen."
He quickly went to the desk, where I noticed two empty bottles of cough syrup.
"She drank them all…" he muttered angrily, taking out his phone. "Now she has a medication overdose."
"She's dru—" I began to say, but Sheldon interrupted me firmly:
"Don't say it, Mrs. Castle," he cut me off as if what I was about to say was complete madness.
He dialed a number and spoke in a weary voice:
"Good afternoon, Dr. Smith… yes, it's Mel again. No, I'm not calling because she has a fever, but because… she drank both syrups." He paused and rubbed his forehead. "Yes, doctor, again."
The scene left me stunned. I didn't know exactly what the doctor had said, but Sheldon looked exhausted, as if he were carrying a weight he could no longer bear. His tired eyes and resigned voice gave him away.
"All right, thank you, Dr. Smith," he hung up with a sigh and turned to me. "Mrs. Castle, I have to take my boss to her apartment. Do you want me to drop her somewhere?" he asked, lifting Mel from the sofa with forced patience.
"I needed to speak with her," I protested, clinging to my goal as if there were still a sliver of hope.
"Ma'am, at this moment, I don't think she even knows where she is," he replied matter-of-factly, without a trace of softness in his tone.
"I know… but why is she doing this now?" I insisted, frustrated.
"That's why I warned you that you couldn't speak with her because she was indisposed. But you insisted, ma'am. And apparently, my boss thought that if she drank the syrups at record speed, she would recover enough to see you," he accused me without hesitation.
"Are you blaming me for this?" I asked incredulously, my voice full of surprise.
"In short, yes," Sheldon clarified, without beating around the bush.
I was left speechless, unable to respond to such a direct accusation.
"Ma'am, let's go," he pulled me out of my trance with a firm gesture to leave.
We took the executive elevator down to the parking lot. Sheldon helped his boss into the back seat and then opened the front door for me, asking me to get in.
As we left the building, I couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror at my "wife," sprawled haphazardly in the back seat, muttering incoherently. Sheldon insisted again on where to drop me off. Distracted, I said anywhere, since I hadn't checked into a hotel yet.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, surprised by my response, but remained silent until we reached the parking lot of a skyscraper.
"Is this a hotel?" I asked incredulously, staring at the imposing facade.
"No, ma'am. This is your wife's property," he informed me calmly.
"I didn't ask you to bring me to where my spo… your boss lives," I replied, irritated.
"I know, Mrs. Castle. I'll just drop off my boss and then take you to check into the best hotel in the city. Believe me, if she finds out I left her anywhere else… she'll send me straight to the Asia branch," he said fearfully, though it was clear he was serious.
For a moment, I thought he was exaggerating, but seeing his pale, nervous face, I realized he was telling the truth.
Sheldon got out of the car and opened the back door.
"Boss, we've arrived. Please get out," he asked patiently.
Since Mel didn't respond, he had to hold her by the waist to lift her.
"No, no, no!" she started kicking, clinging tightly to the seat.
"Boss, please, let go," Sheldon insisted, struggling against her absurd resistance, which made her seem more like a spoiled child than the powerful Mel Castle.
Sheldon continued for several minutes trying to get her out of the car, but he simply couldn't. At this rate, I wouldn't make it to a hotel to check in that day.
"I'll help," I said, stepping in.
I got out of the car, and together we began to pull her to make her release the seat, but Mel held on with surprising strength.
"How can she be so strong?" I asked, exhausted, my hair stuck to my forehead from the effort.
"Apparently, stronger than the two of us together," Sheldon replied, equally tired. "Since she was born, I think she's tried every sport there is," he added jokingly, though the situation was far from funny.
That explained her strength, I thought, though the image of her practicing every sport imaginable seemed absurd and comical at the same time. But how could we make her let go? Then an idea came to me.
"I know what we can do," I announced, moving to the other side of the car.
"Ma'am…" Sheldon called me, wary.
I opened the door and sat on the edge of the seat, carefully measuring every movement.
"What are you planning to do?" Sheldon asked, confused.
"I'll lift her head and slowly start seating her; that way, we can get her out," I explained with conviction.
"That's a good idea, ma'am," he congratulated me, relieved.
"Okay, now I'll start lifting her," I warned, preparing my arms.
I took her by the head and began to lift her. Luckily, the plan was working: she was almost seated completely. However, at that moment, Sheldon's arm slipped, and Mel's head fell harshly onto my shoulder.
"Ouch!" I complained, pain in my voice. "Sheldon, why did you let go?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, it wasn't intentional," he apologized nervously.
Before I could respond, I noticed light green eyes staring directly at me. I lowered my gaze slightly and realized she was awake. Those eyes seemed to pierce my soul, intense and imposing. In seconds, Mel opened them wide and let out a half-shout:
"I'm married!"
She jumped up abruptly, hitting her head against my cheek with such force that I saw sparks, falling face-first to the ground along with Sheldon.
Poor Sheldon took most of the impact, while I was left with a sore cheek and a small open wound. Still, he got up as best he could, held his boss, and helped her stand. Noticing my injury, he said with evident concern:
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
"No, Sheldon… your boss hit me in the face," I complained, bringing my hand to the wound.
Sheldon was like an octopus, juggling to hold his boss firmly and prevent her from slipping. Amid the chaos, he also asked me to come up with them to get my wound treated. I was going to refuse, but the pain was real and I needed ice to soothe it.
Finally, inside the penthouse, Sheldon went to his boss's room to leave her there while I waited in the living room. I found myself surrounded by bags still unopened, as if someone had left an unfinished move. During the wait, I observed in detail the place where my "wife" lived. It was beautiful, I wouldn't deny it. It had an artistic, dynamic style, with vivid colors giving a sense of joy and creativity—a stark contrast that made Mel Castle's taste intriguing.
"Sorry for the wait," Sheldon apologized upon returning.
In his hands, he carried a first-aid kit. He placed it on the coffee table, moving some of the bags aside to make space. I stayed observing the bags, curious, unable to hide my interest. Apparently, my gaze was too obvious, because while taking out a bottle of alcohol, Sheldon commented:
"They're souvenirs and gifts my boss bought on all her trips. You know… so her grandfather would believe you've been together. She also bought you some mementos," he explained naturally.
Sheldon brought a pair of tweezers with cotton soaked in alcohol to my cheek. Instinctively, I moved aside.
"Ma'am, may I treat it?" he asked, amused by my reaction.
"That's full of alcohol," I said, with a hint of fear in my voice.
"It's to disinfect the wound," he replied, trying to suppress a laugh.
"I'll do it myself," I countered, snatching the tweezers decisively.
"As you wish," he nodded without arguing.
As I gathered my courage, Sheldon took another cotton swab with alcohol and applied it to his arm, which had a scrape from the fall. His expression was calm, as if the stinging didn't matter, while I finished cleaning my own wound. Finally, I put a bandage on my cheek, feeling the burn spread across my skin and forcing me to hold back a grimace.
At that moment, I had something in mind—a request for Sheldon—but before daring to speak, I decided to dispel the lingering question in my mind before asking him for ice for my cheek.
"So your boss has been traveling…" I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence in the room.
"Yes, that's correct," he replied curtly, almost as if he wanted to close the subject immediately.
"Does that mean she stayed here for me?" I wanted to confirm if that was true.
"Not entirely. My boss stayed because she had a cold. When she gets sick, it hits her hard…" he explained, though I interrupted him before he could continue.
"Oh, that's why she stayed…" I nodded thoughtfully. "Sheldon, can I ask you something?" I said, fixing my gaze on him.
"Of course, ma'am," he replied respectfully.
"When we're alone, could you call me Judith? I'm not Mrs. Castle, nor your boss's wife. You're one of the few people who knows this is just a marriage in name. So please, call me Judith."
Sheldon looked at me for a moment, as if processing my words.
"I understand, ma'am… I mean, I'm sorry, Judith," he corrected himself, offering a faint smile.
"Now you can take me to a hotel. I'd like to rest," I asked, smiling tiredly.
He nodded silently. Before we left, he made sure his boss was comfortably settled in her room. Then we exited the building and set off. I leaned back in the passenger seat, my mind weary, until his voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Judith… you know my boss isn't the evil person you think she is," he said, eyes fixed on the road.
"I can't help thinking that. I shouldn't have been her only option. There must have been many others, better than me," I said, annoyed.
"And there were," Sheldon stated firmly. "But…"
My heart skipped a beat, as if sensing what he was about to say.
"Please, don't tell me she's in love with me," I whispered, feeling the air thicken inside the car.
"No, of course not," Sheldon laughed. "My boss has no feelings for you. It's just complicated to explain what happened, but if you ask her directly, you'll understand and…"
"Or what if you tell me?" I interrupted him, a bit impatient.
"That's not for me to say," he replied firmly. "All I can assure you is that if you speak with her and ask her to tell you everything, you'll understand. After that, you'll be able to ask for the divorce without any problem. In fact, I can even assure you that the two of you will work together to come up with a solid excuse to divorce."
"How do you know I'm going to ask for a divorce?" I asked incredulously, arching an eyebrow.
"You were engaged to Amber Harrison, an artist and painter who, in my opinion, isn't very well known. She's originally from Massachusetts, she's twenty-six years old, and—"
"And why do you know all of that?" I interrupted him irritably, frowning. "Did your boss send you to investigate her?"
"She was investigated, yes—but not by me. And it wasn't ordered by my boss either. It was done by her grandfather, who ordered background checks on everyone," Sheldon explained, his tone sounding apologetic.
I was stunned. I knew very well that my father used to do the same thing, always justifying it as a security measure. But the Castle patriarch… for what reason had he done it? Maybe security as well—but what possible threat could Amber pose to them? The doubt struck me hard, and then a thought flashed through my mind like lightning.
"Was my entire family investigated too?" I asked, raising my voice in irritation.
"We've arrived," Sheldon said as he parked. "And to answer your question—yes, Mr. Castle investigated everyone. But I'll say it again: talk to my boss, and you'll understand many things. You might even be surprised by what she tells you," he concluded, leaving me deep in thought. Then he offered me a polite, restrained smile. "Have a good night, Mrs. Castle."
I simply sighed as I got out of the car and turned one last time to look at Sheldon.
"See you tomorrow," I said goodbye, entering the hotel feeling disoriented, exhausted, and confused.
Sheldon's words didn't let me sleep all night. I tossed and turned in the sheets, replaying every sentence he had said over and over, wondering what it was that Mel Castle needed to tell me for me to finally understand her. Something in Sheldon's tone made me sense that what his boss was going to reveal would truly surprise me.
When morning finally came, the first thing I realized was that Sheldon had never told me either the time or the exact place where I would be able to see Mel.
I had to call him.
Once. Twice. Three times.
On the first call, he didn't answer, and panic took hold of me—what if I had lost my only chance to speak with her? On the second attempt, there was complete silence. Finally, on the third, I heard his voice.
He told me that in about five hours his boss would be going to the offices, although she would probably take longer since she still wasn't feeling well and was recovering slowly.
"Sheldon, if she's not feeling well, I'll go to her penthouse," I said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Sheldon fell silent for a few seconds. I could hear his hesitation, until he finally murmured:
"Ma'am… my boss doesn't know you were here. She also doesn't remember breaking your cheekbone… which, by the way, doesn't hurt anymore," he added with concern.
"No, Sheldon, it doesn't hurt anymore, and it's better—thank you for asking," I replied, touching my face carefully.
"I'm glad to hear that. But as I was saying… my boss doesn't remember anything that happened yesterday."
"Then you can tell her that since she couldn't see me yesterday, I can go to her penthouse today. Just send me the address," I proposed quickly, resolving the issue on the spot.
The line went silent again for a moment as I waited impatiently for Sheldon's response.
"I don't think my boss will accept that. She feels it wouldn't be appropriate for you to see her at her penthouse; that's why she scheduled the meeting at the office… She respects your relationship very much and doesn't want you to have problems with Miss Amber," he confessed, leaving me surprised.
I sighed, tired of the excuses Sheldon kept giving me to avoid seeing her immediately, though deep down I appreciated her behavior. It was clear she respected my relationship with Amber.
"Sheldon, just tell her that what I need to say is important and that no one can hear what we're going to talk about. We need to reduce the chances of anyone finding out to a minimum," I asked him to pass along the message.
"All right, Mrs. Castle," he finally agreed. "I'll relay your message. Please stay on the line for a moment."
Several minutes passed before he spoke again.
"Ma'am," he said, "my boss agreed to see you. I'll come pick you up right now—"
"No, Sheldon, that would take longer. Send me the location and I'll get there faster," I said, determined and relieved by his answer.
"All right, I'll send it. I can see you're just as stubborn as my boss," he sighed tiredly.
Seconds later, the address arrived.
"I've just sent you the location. I'll be waiting for you in the lobby, ma'am."
"All right, Sheldon, see you soon," I said goodbye, hanging up.
I got dressed quickly and headed to the penthouse. Just as Sheldon had said, he was waiting for me in the lobby. I greeted him, and he did the same, and we went up together. When the doors opened, he walked into the living room—and that's when I saw her, sitting with her back to me.
My "wife."