Mary
Chapter 1 Discover His Affair
Margaret Collins discovered her husband, Samson Hawthorne, was cheating on her with a college girl.
Today was Samson’s birthday. Margaret had carefully prepared dishes early in the day.
All of a sudden, the phone Samson had left at home sounded.
Margaret glanced over and saw a message from the college girl.
“I bumped into the cake while carrying it. It hurts so much.”
Attached was a photo of her legs.
The girl wore pulled–up white socks and black loafers. Her blue–and–white schoolgirl skirt was pushed up high, revealing her long, captivating legs and her bruised knees. Her fair, delicate skin paired with her coquettish words exuded an irresistible allure.
It was said that successful businessmen like Samson preferred her type as lovers.
Margaret tightly clutched the phone, knuckles white.
Ding.
Another text came in from the college girl.
“Mr. Hawthorne, meet me at Setai Hotel tonight. Let’s celebrate your birthday together!”
Margaret thought, “I’m his wife. Shouldn’t he be celebrating it with me?”
Enraged, she grabbed her bag and headed straight for the Setai Hotel
She needed to find out who this chick was.
***
Margaret arrived at the Setai Hotel.
Just when she was about to go inside, she spotted her parents, Andy Collins and Laney Sloan.
Startled, she stepped forward. “Dad, Mom, what are you doing here?”
Andy and Laney froze. They exchanged a nervous glance, their eyes evasive.
“Maggie, your sister just returned from abroad. We’re giving her a ride,” Andy said.
Alice Collins?
After glancing at Alice through the polished glass windows, Margaret froze.
She was wearing that same blue–and–white schoolgirl skirt from the photo!
So, Alice was that college girl!
Alice had always been a beauty, hailed as the Rose of Miami. Most notably, she had the most exquisite legs in town. Countless men fell for her because of those legs.
And now, she those very legs to seduce Margaret’s husband.
Margaret felt ridiculous. Turning to Andy and Laney, she said, “So, I’m the last to know.” &
Andy awkwardly replied, “Maggie, Mr. Hawthorne h has
never
loved you.
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Laney chimed in, “Exactly, Maggie. Do you know how many women in Miami are vying for him? Since he has to date somebody, it’s better your sister than a stranger.”
Margaret clenched her fists, snapping, “I’m your daughter too!”
Devasted, she stormed off.
Laney called after her, “Margaret, let me ask you something. Has he even touched you?”
Margaret stopped in her tracks.
Andy’s tone sharpened. “Margaret, don’t act like we owe you something. Back then, everyone ought Mr. Hawthorne and Ally were a match made in heaven. Unfortunately, his car accident left him in a vegetative state. So we had no choice but to let you marry him in Ally’s stead.”
Laney eyed Margaret with disdain. “Look at yourself, Margaret. In three years of marriage, you’ve become nothing more than a housewife. Meanwhile, Ally is a principal ballerina. She’s the swan, while you’re the duckling. What makes you think you can compete with her? Just give Mr. Hawthorne back to Ally!”
Her every word shattered Margaret’s heart. Finally, she walked away, tears welling up in her eyes.
444
When Margaret returned to the villa, night had fallen. She had given Elain, the housemaid, the night off. So she was the only one in this empty house.
Sitting alone at the dining table in the darkness, she stared at the spread of dishes.
The food had gone cold. The cake she had made with her own hands bore the words “Happy Birthday. My Love.”
Margaret found it all bitterly ironic. It was a reflection of her own life, a cruel joke.
Samson and Alice had always been the perfect couple, everyone’s favorite pair. All folks in town knew that Alice, the Rose of Miami, had been the apple of Samson’s eyes. But three years ago, an unexpected car accident turned Samson into a vegetable. And Alice just vanished
As a result, the Collins family fetched Margaret from the countryside, forcing her to marry the incapacitated Samson.
But Margaret wasn’t reluctant at all. Upon learning it was Samson–the man she had always loved–she agreed without hesitation.
her
For three while Samson lay comatose, Margaret cared for him tirelessly. She
years,
gave up social life, dedicating herself to his recovery. Eventually, she succeeded in waking him.
Snapping back to reality, Margaret lit a match and ignited the candles on the cake.
In the faint glow, she saw her reflection in the mirror–a plain housewife in her usual dull black–and–white dress. Lifeless. Boring.
In contrast, Alice, now the principal ballerina, was radiant and beautiful.
Margaret was the duckling.
Alice was the swan.
Now that Samson was awake, he had returned to the swan, leaving the duckling behind.
These past three years had been nothing more than a delusion of self–pity. I
Samson didn’t love her. But she loved him.
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stans
The one who loved first in a relationship is destined to lose. Tonight, Samson had defeated her utterly.
Tears welled in Margaret’s eyes as she blew out the candles.
The villa was once again plunged into darkness.
Just then, two bright headlights pierced through the night. A Rolls–Royce Phantom sped up the driveway and stopped on the lawn.
Margaret’s heart fluttered. Samson had returned.
add thought he wouldn’t come home tonight.
The villa’s door opened, and a tall, elegant figure stepped inside. Cloaked in the cool night air, S. mson had come home.
The Hawthornes were Miami’s aristocracy. As the heir, Samson had displayed a stunning aptitude for business from a young age. At 16, he had earned dual master’s degrees from Cambridge University. Later, he founded his first company in London, achieving overnight success. When he returned to the U.S., he took over the Hawthorne family business, cementing his place as Miami’s wealthiest man.
Striding in with his long legs, Samson asked in a deep, magnetic voice with a hint of detachment. “Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
He then reached for the wall switch, lighting the room.
The brightness stung Margaret’s eyes, and she blinked. When she looked at him again, her gaze lingered.
Samson was dressed in a tailored black suit, exuding sophistication. His perfectly proportioned frame and innate aristocratic air made him the subject of countless women’s fantasies
“It’s your birthday today,” Margaret piped up.
His handsome face remained expressionless as his eyes lazily scanned the table. “Don’t waste your time next year. I don’t celebrate birthdays.”
Margaret curled her lips into a faint smile. “Is it that you don’t celebrate birthdays, or you don’t want to celebrate with me?”
Samson glanced at her, his gaze indifferent. He didn’t bother with an explanation. “Whatever.”
With that, he headed upstairs.
He had always been like this, distant and cold.
No matter what she did, she could never thaw his heart.
Margaret stood up, watching his tall back. “Since it’s your birthday, I wanna give you a gift.
Samson didn’t pause or look back. “No need.”
slowly.
“Samson, let’s get a divorce.”
One foot already on the staircase, Samson froze. Slowly, he turned, his deep black eyes locking onto her.
Margaret smiled, her lips curling
