Why Would My Husband Want To Take Another Wife?

She married him because of a contract. He married her because she was convenient. To the world, Alice Neighley is the perfect wife—graceful, obedient, invisible. Married to a powerful heir, she lives in a luxurious cage built on indifference and silence. Her husband never touches her heart, never defends her position, and never hides the truth: she was never the woman he wanted. When his first love returns, Alice becomes a placeholder—easy to replace, easier to discard. Even worse, the betrayal doesn’t come only from her husband, but from the people she once called family. But Alice is done begging for love. As the contract nears its end, secrets surface, loyalties shatter, and the woman everyone underestimated begins to wake up. She will walk away from the marriage they thought defined her—and from the man who believed she would never leave. What they don’t know is this: Alice is no longer the wife he never wanted. She is the one he will never get back.

While I was completely in the dark, my husband secretly donated his sperm. Before long, the two women who had received it showed up at my doorstep. Both were heavily pregnant. And both moved into my house as if they owned the place. It was over a hundred degrees outside, yet they still had the nerve to order me to go out and buy them drinks. I told them to get out. Instead, they pointed their fingers in my face and cursed at me. "Bitch! From now on, we're Ryan's first and second wives. How dare you act so high and mighty?" "Our sons are going to inherit Ryan's business empire. You'd better take good care of us. If you behave, we might even let you stay on as the help." Furious, I called my husband home and demanded an explanation. But instead of standing by me, he took their side. "Victoria, they're just two poor women from the countryside. Cut them some slack and forgive them." I laughed right in his face. He had thrown away a wealthy, accomplished wife for two shameless strangers. "Don't forget who's really in charge of this family. Since you're so worried about them, you can get out with them."

My husband secretly swapped the transplant recipient, giving the kidney that was meant for our daughter to the daughter of the woman he had always loved. Not long after, our daughter's condition worsened. The doctors tried to save her, but it was no use. She didn't make it. At the same time, the other girl's surgery was a success. My husband was so overjoyed that he handed out little gifts to the entire hospital in celebration. Rage and grief overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. When I came to, the doctors told me I had cancer. Late-stage. My time was running out. With nothing left to hold on to, I walked out of the hospital, clutching the urn that held my daughter's ashes. In the cold, empty house, I sat alone and drafted the divorce papers.

On our wedding night, my husband Grayson's sister-in-law, Scarlette, stumbled drunkenly into our bridal suite and threw her arms around him, refusing to let go. "Kayla, my husband died young, and I really just want a child. Please, lend him to me for one night," she cried through her tears, shoving a toy into my hand. "I promise I'll return him tomorrow. And if you get lonely… you can use this to comfort yourself." I stood there, dumbfounded, my gaze shifting in confusion to Grayson, who was already helping Scarlette steady herself. "You're really going to sleep with her?" He avoided my eyes, his tone strangely urgent. "Don't overthink it. She's drunk and talking nonsense. I'll take her back to her room to rest." As he started to leave with her, I stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "Grayson, it's our wedding night tonight. Are you seriously going to walk out with her?" His expression darkened as he pushed me aside. "You're my wife now—try to be more sensible. Don't get jealous over something so trivial." Then, carefully, he guided her out of the room. I wanted to run after him and stop them, but when I saw the deep concern in his eyes as he looked at her, the truth finally hit me. The love this man had for me was no longer mine alone. And if that was the case, why should I cling to a marriage that had already soured? I might as well walk away with my head held high.

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

After my husband cheats, my relatives advise me to be tolerant and forgiving. Why? Because my husband's mistress is pregnant, and I'm infertile. Even his parents hurry to our house in the middle of the night to say, "Don't worry—we won't let that woman step foot in this house. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours." Is that so? I sneer as I look at a medical report. Perhaps the child will have something to do with me, but it definitely won't have anything to do with my husband.