Married To A Lie

For five years of our marriage, Matthew Spark was my entire world. I abandoned my career, severed ties with my family, and molded myself into the perfect wife for him. I believed our love was unshakable, and that our marriage certificate was the ultimate proof of it. Until the day I saw him with my own eyes—holding another woman in his arms as he stepped into our home. “Ava, let me introduce you,” he said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “This is Sophie Spears, and her daughter, Ella. They’ll be living here from now on.” I froze. I had seen her face before—tucked in the drawer of his desk, in his wallet, even as the wallpaper on his phone. And in that instant, I realized the cruel truth: I was the unnecessary outsider. The interloper. The greater insult came when I confronted him. He calmly produced a marriage certificate—his and Sophie’s marriage was three months before ours. That was the moment I learned my marriage had been nothing but a farce. That I wasn’t even significant enough to be a mistress. And in that moment, I laughed. Oh, Matthew. Did you forget who the largest investor in Spark Enterprise was? Chapter 1 I only realized my five-year marriage was a farce on the day my husband, Matthew Spark, nearly killed me. “As the head of the household, I order you to eat it!” Matthew seized my wrist and shoved the slice of chocolate cake into my mouth. He knew. He had to know I was severely allergic to cocoa. “Please, Matthew! I’ll go into shock!” I struggled with all my strength, trying to push his hand away. “Oh, give me a break!” he sneered, his other hand gripping my chin and forcing my mouth open. Sophie Spears stood to the side, her eyes slightly red. “Forget it, Matthew. If Ava doesn’t like it, that’s fine… It’s just not good enough for her.” “No, darling, this isn’t your fault,” Matthew said as he released me and turned to comfort her. “It’s Ava who doesn’t know what’s good for her.” The taste of chocolate flooded my mouth. My throat began to swell, and every breath grew more labored. I collapsed onto the floor, my fingernails scraping grooves into the hardwood. “Get… meds in… my bag…” I pointed desperately toward my handbag on the kitchen counter. Matthew didn’t even glance at it. “Still pretending, are we? Get up. Stop making a scene.” My vision blurred, as my ragged breaths roared in my ears. I was going into anaphylactic shock. In my fading consciousness, I heard Sophie say from far away, “I’m feeling a little tired. Shall we go upstairs?” Then came the endless dark. … When I woke, my throat felt as though it had been scorched by fire. The harsh white of the emergency room ceiling burned my eyes. “Thank heaven you’re awake!” A nurse exclaimed as she rushed over to check my vitals. “When you arrived, you were already in severe shock. Five minutes later, and there would have been nothing we could do.” “Who… brought me here?” I asked groggily. “Your neighbor, Miss Cynthia Rhode. She said she saw you collapse on your porch.” The nurse gestured toward the woman beside me. “I got to you first,” Cynthia said as she stepped closer to my bed. “Your husband came later. He was standing outside the ER, his hands shaking. I heard him muttering to himself.” The nurse frowned. “Honestly, knowing you have a severe allergy and still exposing you to it—that’s attempted murder.” Attempted murder. I let out a bitter laugh. Yes, he’d nearly killed me—but he simply didn’t care. “I need to make a call,” I said as I struggled upright. The nurse handed me my phone. I scrolled to my gallery and stared for a long time at a photo taken three days ago. It was at the City Hall archives. The clerk, pointing at the computer screen, had looked utterly stunned. “Mrs. Spark, our system shows… You were never registered as married. Mr. Matthew Spark’s legal wife is Sophie Spears.” Five years. The marriage I thought I had, the man I thought I loved—it had all been a lie from the very beginning. That grand wedding, that marriage certificate… all of it was not real. And I, like a fool, had believed it. Chapter 2 Just then, the hospital room door swung open, and Matthew walked in. When he saw I was awake, he strode quickly to my bedside. “You’re finally awake! The doctor said you almost…” His face looked pale, and his eyes bloodshot. “Matthew…” My voice was hoarse. “What am I to you?” “What?” He frowned. “You’re my wife. That’s a ridiculous question.” “Your wife… in the legal sense?” His expression changed instantly. I showed him the photo. “When I applied for a new passport, they asked for proof of marriage. That’s when I discovered I’d been deceived for five years. “Sophie is your wife. And I… am nothing.” “Ava, listen to me, I can explain—” he began. “Explain what?” I cut him off, each word slicing like a blade. “Explain why you staged a wedding to trick me? Explain why Sophie moved into our home? Or explain why I saw her coming out of our bedroom last night?” He fell silent. Just then, the door opened again and Sophie walked in with a cup of coffee. “You’re awake. You scared me half to death!” She was wearing my cashmere coat, the one I’d bought yesterday for three thousand dollars. “Congratulations, Sophie,” I said bitterly. “Congratulations for what?” She blinked her wide, innocent eyes. “Congratulations on being the real Mrs. Spark. While I was nothing but a mistress kept in the dark.” A smug look crossed her face before she masked it with feigned surprise. “Oh, Ava, what are you talking about? You’re the one Matthew loves.” “Is that so?” I asked as I turned to Matthew. “Then tell her, Matthew—who is your legal wife?” His face turned ashen, and he said nothing. Sophie’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Oh, forget it, Matthew… I know I shouldn’t have come back. I’ll leave,” she sobbed dramatically. “Don’t go!” Matthew grabbed her. “It’s my house. I decide who stays.” He turned to me, his gaze cold. “Stop this nonsense. I’ll handle the paperwork, but Sophie is Ella’s mother. She needs a place to live.” “Ella’s mother?” I felt a sharp stab in my heart. “So you admit that Ella is your daughter?” He turned his head away. “That was before you married me.” Before I married him? Then the memory hit me. Five years ago, on April 14th, we had our wedding. Ella’s birthday was April 15th. The day after our wedding, he had vanished—because he was at the hospital with another woman, watching her give birth. And I, the fool, had been waiting in our new home for him to return. I pulled the IV from my hand and forced myself out of bed. “Where are you going?” Matthew frowned. I didn’t answer. My legs trembled, but I still walked toward the door, one step at a time. “Let her go, Matthew. She needs to calm down,” Sophie said quietly. As the elevator doors closed, I caught a final glimpse of Matthew gently tucking a strand of Sophie’s hair behind her ear—exactly as he had done for me many years ago. Leaning against the elevator wall, I took out my phone and dialed a number I had long buried in my memory. “Hello?” David Smith’s voice came through. “It’s me, Ava.” There was a brief silence. “You finally remembered me?” “David,” I closed my eyes. “You once said our engagement would always stand. Does that still count?” “It counts. It will always count,” He replied immediately. “Three days from now. 9 am. City Hall.” “I’ll be there.” I hung up and opened my eyes. Three days. That was all I needed to bury this ridiculous past with my own hands. On my phone, I still had a countdown app I’d downloaded five years ago to mark my so-called wedding anniversary. I reset it to seventy-two hours. That was my deadline. In seventy-two hours, I would say goodbye to this false life—forever. Chapter 3 By the time I stumbled back to the house, it was already midnight. This was the home I had designed with my own hands, every corner built with my sweat and devotion. Yet now, it felt like a lavish tomb, burying five years of my youth. The master bedroom glowed with a warm golden light. Matthew wasn’t there, but his phone sat charging on the nightstand. The screen suddenly lit up with a WhatsApp message. Out of habit, I opened it. Matthew had never set a password—he used to say there should be no secrets between husband and wife. Looking back, the irony was almost laughable. The message was from Sophie: [Miss me, baby?] Attached was a steamy bathroom selfie, blurred by mist. She was completely naked. My stomach lurched. “What are you looking at?” I looked up. Sophie leaned casually against the doorframe, wrapped in my bath towel. She strolled in and sat on the edge of the bed—on my side. “You know,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “this bed… we were on it last night…” She let the words hang, her eyes taunting me. I ignored her and scrolled through Matthew’s phone. There was an encrypted album labeled Ella. I tried her birthday—0415—and it opened. Every photo was of Ella, from her first moments to now, each one captured with care. The earliest was time-stamped April 15th, five years ago, in the early morning. In it, Matthew held a newborn in his arms, his face glowing with pride and tenderness. April 15th—the day after our wedding. That morning, I had woken up alone. He’d told me there was an urgent matter at work. I had believed him, so much so that I made breakfast and waited for him to return. In truth, he’d been in a delivery room with another woman. I kept scrolling until I found a video. Matthew held Ella, his voice melting with affection. “You’re Daddy’s little princess… Daddy will always love you.” Sophie’s weak voice came from behind the camera, “Thank you for being here, Matthew.” “Of course,” he had said as he kissed the baby’s forehead. “You gave me a daughter. I’ll always be here for you. Thank you, Sophie.” My hands trembled. “See?” Sophie leaned in, her chin resting on my shoulder, her breath brushing my ear. “Ella looks just like Matthew—especially those eyes. It’s like they were carved from the same mold.” She pulled out her phone. “Since you’ve already seen that, why not see these too?” She opened a video. The camera shook, but the scene was unmistakable—two bodies tangled together. Matthew pressed over Sophie, his movements fierce, her moans sharp and grating. “This was the night before last,” she said, licking her lips. “While you were in the hospital, Matthew told me he missed me.” She swiped to a photo. Matthew, shirtless on a hotel bed, Sophie draped across his chest. Both of them looked utterly satisfied. “This was this afternoon,” she continued. “He told you he had a meeting. He came to me.” She leaned close enough for me to smell her perfume. “He said you were boring. Like a dead fish.” One picture after another. One video after another. Five years—and they’d never stopped. And I, fool that I was, had only just learned the truth. “Well?” Sophie tilted her head as she savored my expression. “You were just a stand-in. Matthew needed the perfect wife for appearances. But I am his true love.” I set Matthew’s phone down and pulled out my own. I dialed the number I had already called once in the elevator, but I needed to hear it again. “Changed your mind?” David asked. He sounded slightly tense. “No.” My eyes stayed locked on Sophie. “I just wanted to confirm—three days from now, you’ll be waiting for me at City Hall, right?” “Ava,” his tone sharpened into certainty, “I’ve waited five years for you. I meant every word. I swear it.” I ended the call and stood up. Sophie blinked, caught off guard. “Who were you speaking to? David? The Wall Street prince?” “That’s none of your concern.” Chapter 4 I walked into the dressing room and began packing a few important documents and a change of clothes. I left behind every luxury item Matthew had ever bought me. I wanted none of them. “Ava!” Sophie hurried after me. “Are you out of your mind? You’re going to David's? Do you really think he’ll want you? You’re damaged goods!” Damaged goods. I stopped and turned to face her. “You’re right, Sophie. I am damaged. “But you? You don’t even count as merchandise—you’re just some loose woman Matthew keeps on the side.” “You—!” She raised her hand to slap me. I caught her wrist. “Don’t forget—this is my home. One word from me, and Matthew will throw you out.” “He won’t.” She smirked. “He can’t bear to.” “You’re right—he can’t.” I released her wrist. “Which is why I’m going to give him a very special gift.” The door opened, and Matthew walked in. As he watched me pack, he casually asked, “What are you doing?” “Nothing. Just organizing,” I said without stopping. “Need help?” “No, I’ve got it.” My voice was calm, as if nothing had happened. “By the way, weren’t you planning a welcome party for Ella?” “Yes. I was thinking of the day after tomorrow. What do you think?” The day after tomorrow. Exactly seventy-two hours away. “Perfect,” I said, glancing at him. “Let me organize it. I’ll make sure it’s a welcome party you’ll never forget.” He hesitated. “That’s great. Ella will be so happy…” Sophie had clung to his arm. “I’m tired.” His attention shifted instantly, so I walked into the guest room and locked the door. At 2:00 am, I called the party planner, Kathleen Grant. I knew it was rude to call at such an hour, but I didn’t care. “Kathleen, this is Ava Vanguard.” “Ms. Vanguard? It’s very late. Is everything all right?” Kathleen asked, a note of concern in her voice. “I need to host a welcome party. The day after tomorrow. Unlimited budget.” “No problem!” Kathleen was instantly alert. “Any special requests?” “Yes. I want a backdrop—three meters by five. I’ll send you the photo shortly.” “Consider it done.” I hung up and sent Kathleen the photo Sophie had shown me earlier of Matthew and Sophie tangled together on the bed. At 3:00 am, my father called. “Ava, what happened?” Hearing his voice, my tears finally broke. “Dad…” “Where are you, Ava? I’ll come get you.” “I’m fine.” I wiped my face. “I need a favor, Dad.” “Anything.” “Withdraw everything we’ve invested in Spark Enterprise.” He was silent for a while. “All right. First thing in the morning.” “Dad…?” My voice caught. “I’m sorry.” “Silly girl, what’s there to be sorry for?” His voice trembled. “Come home. We’re waiting for you.” I ended the call and walked to the window. In the yard, the rose garden shimmered a deep red under the moonlight. Matthew had planted it himself on our wedding day. He had said that the roses represented his everlasting and passionate love for me. I let out a cold laugh. Tomorrow, I would burn it to the ground—just as he had reduced my life to ashes. Chapter 5 “Mr. Spark has asked you to come to the dining room,” Mary Bennett, the housekeeper, called from outside. I glanced at my phone—48 hours left on the countdown. In the dining room, Matthew sat at the head of the table, with Sophie to his right—the seat that had once been mine. Ella sat beside her, eating breakfast. “Come here, Ava,” Matthew pointed to the seat on his left. I sat down. On the table lay a delicate breakfast Sophie had prepared. “Tomorrow is Ella’s welcome party. I’m really looking forward to it,” Matthew said as he sliced into his omelet. “It’s the official moment to welcome her into our family.” Our family? I glanced at Ella. She was undeniably pretty, with features that did carry some trace of Matthew’s. “Sure,” I said with a smile. Matthew looked slightly surprised. “You really mean it?” “Of course.” I turned to Ella. “Ella, I’ll throw you the most special welcome party you’ve ever seen.” Ella glanced at me timidly before diving into Sophie’s arms. Sophie stroked Ella’s hair softly.. “Don’t be afraid, baby. Mama’s here,” she cooed as her eyes challenged me. “Oh, right, Ava,” Matthew added suddenly. “Sophie’s luggage is still at the hotel. Could you go with her to pick it up? She’s going to stay here for a while.” Stay here? I stood. “I’ll pack my things.” “Ava.” Matthew stopped me. “Aren’t you having breakfast?” “I’m not hungry.” Back in the guest room, I took out my phone and called Kathleen. “Is the backdrop ready?” “Ms. Vanguard. It’s being made exactly to your specifications. But this photo…” “Is there a problem?” “No… It’ll be ready on time, Ma’am. I promise.” I hung up and walked out to the yard. The rose garden blazed crimson in the morning light. The same ones that Matthew promised would live for his love for me. What a joke. From the tool shed, I took a can of gasoline and poured it, bucket after bucket, over the rose bushes. “Mrs. Spark, what are you doing!” The gardener ran toward me in alarm. “Burn them,” I said calmly. “But Mr. Spark had planted them himself!” “I said burn it.” The gardener didn’t dare stop me and stepped back, trembling. I lit the lighter and tossed it into the rose bushes. Flames leapt up instantly; crimson petals writhed in the fire, blackened, and crumbled into ash. Thick smoke rolled upward, stinging my eyes with tears. “Ava! Are you insane?” Matthew rushed out, trying to put out the fire, but it was too late. The entire rose garden was ablaze. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” He seized my shoulders and shook me. “I know.” I pushed him away. “Just as you knew exactly what you were doing.” “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer. I turned and walked back into the house. In the living room, I began gathering every photograph—wedding portraits, travel snapshots, moments from daily life—pulling each from its frame and piling them on the floor. “These are all photos of you and Mr. Spark,” Mary murmured. “I know.” I carried the photos into the yard and threw them into the fire. The flames roared higher. Matthew stood to the side, his face dark in the shadows cast by the flames. “That’s enough, Ava!” “Hardly,” I said as I went back inside and hauled out every gift he had ever given me—bags, jewelry, clothes—and tossed them all into the fire. “That Chanel is a limited edition!” Sophie screamed. “Then go fetch it,” I said. Sophie started forward, but Matthew held her back. I stood before the blaze, watching five years of memories go up in flames. “Ava…,” Matthew came over, his voice soft. “What’s wrong with you? Is it because of Sophie? I can have her move out.” “No need for that.” I turned to look at him. “Do you remember what you said about the roses? For as long as they loved, your love for me would never fade.” He froze. “Now the roses are dead.” I smiled faintly. “So your love should die too.” At that moment, Sophie walked over and slipped her arm through his. “Matthew, I feel a little dizzy.” He immediately steadied. “Was it because last night was too exhausting?” he asked. Last night? They exchanged a knowing smile, the kind of tacit intimacy that stabbed into my eyes. I took out my phone and messaged my assistant: [Sell all the stocks under my name. Convert everything to cash.] Then I checked the time—forty-six hours left. That night, Matthew couldn’t sleep. He stood at the window of his study, staring at the scorched earth in the yard. I had burned more than just roses—I had burned my past with him. He thought about talking to me. His hand was already on the doorknob when he heard my muffled sobs in the guest room. His hand froze midair. “Matthew?” Sophie’s voice called out from behind him. “What are you doing here?” He turned to see her wearing my pajamas. A wave of irritation rose in his chest. “Nothing.” “Are you worried about Ava?” Sophie stepped closer. “I think she’s just throwing a tantrum—” “Enough,” Matthew cut her off. “Go back to the room.” Chapter 6 “Are you sure you still want to hold the welcome party?” Matthew asked. He looked uneasy. “Also… We need to talk.” “Talk about what?” I kept sorting through the documents without looking up. “Talk about us.” He caught my hand. “I know you’re angry, but—” “Matthew,” I pulled my hand free, “the welcome party is already arranged. You don’t need to worry.” He stared at me for a long time. “Ava… you’re not the same as before.” “What’s different?” “You’re too calm.” He frowned. “Before, you would—” “Cry and make a scene, right?” I met his eyes. “People grow up.” “About that marriage certificate—” “I’m tired,” I said as I rose to my feet. “Let’s talk tomorrow.” At the door, I turned back for a moment. He was still standing there, wearing a look of panic I had never seen before. That afternoon, Matthew left with Sophie and Ella. Before he went, he made a point to tell me, “Prepare for tomorrow’s welcome party properly. Don’t disappoint me.” Don’t disappoint him? I gave a cold smile. I certainly wouldn’t. By evening, the party company arrived to set up the venue. “Ms. Vanguard, the backdrop is ready. Would you like to see it?” The massive backdrop stood in the center of the living room—an image of Matthew and Sophie, naked and tangled together, every detail sharp and undeniable. “Perfect,” I said. “Cover it with a cloth, and don’t reveal it until tomorrow.” “Ms. Vanguard, this is—” “Do as I say.” The workers exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed. At ten o’clock, Matthew and the others returned. Ella had fallen asleep, and Matthew carried her upstairs. Sophie followed behind, deliberately speaking loudly. “Ella said she wants to sleep with Papa and Mama tonight.” Papa and Mama. I stood at the foot of the stairs, watching the three of them disappear into the room together. A family of three, warm and harmonious. And me—I was the extra. I walked into the study, opened the safe, and took out every important document: property deeds, car titles, bankbooks, and that joke of a marriage certificate. I tore the certificate into pieces—strip by strip—until my fingers went numb. Midnight. The countdown hit zero. I deleted the countdown app from my phone, erasing it the same way I erased the five wasted years of my life. I closed my eyes as tears slid down my cheeks. Goodbye, my foolish love. By ten in the morning, the welcome party began as planned. Matthew stood at the front door, greeting guests. Sophie clung to his arm, while Ella, dressed in a princess gown, stood beside them. “Congratulations, Mr. Spark. Your daughter is beautiful.” “Yes, she looks just like you—no doubt she’s Daddy’s little girl.” The guests’ flattery seemed to unsettle Matthew. He glanced around. “Where’s Ava?” “She left early this morning…” Mary answered. Then she whispered, “With her luggage.” A weight sank in Matthew’s chest. He pulled out his phone to call me, but I had switched it off. “All the guests are here. Let’s start,” Sophie urged, tugging his arm. Suppressing his unease, Matthew stepped to the center of the living room. A massive red cloth covered the backdrop I had prepared. “Today is a special day,” Matthew began. “Thank you for coming to Ella’s welcome party.” He reached for the cloth. “Let’s all welcome—” The cloth fell away, revealing a 3-meter-by-5-meter photograph. In it, Matthew had Sophie pinned beneath him, their bodies intertwined in crystal-clear detail. The room went dead silent—then erupted. “Oh my God!” “What the heck is this?” “Mr. Spark had an affair?”