The Wife He Left Behind

PART 2 — THE MAN WHO COULDN’T FIND HIS WIFE

By the time my plane landed in London, Adrian had called me forty-seven times.

I didn’t answer a single call.

Instead, I switched off my phone, collected my suitcase, and stepped into the cool London air. For the first time in five years, nobody was waiting for me to cancel my plans because another woman needed my husband.

My father had arranged a small apartment near the university. It wasn’t a mansion, but it had large windows, warm wooden floors, and a little balcony overlooking the street.

It was mine.

That evening, I sat beside the window and opened my admission documents. Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes.

I wasn’t crying because I missed Adrian.

I was crying because I had forgotten what it felt like to have something that belonged entirely to me.

Meanwhile, in Chicago, Adrian was losing his mind.

He returned to our penthouse and found my wedding ring beside the divorce papers. His expression turned cold as he read my note for the third time.

“She wants a divorce?” he demanded.

His lawyer, Marcus, stood across the desk.

“Claire’s attorney contacted us this afternoon. She intends to proceed with the divorce and has requested that all communication go through legal counsel.”

Adrian crushed the paper in his fist.

“Find her.”

“We already know she’s in London.”

“Then bring her back.”

Marcus hesitated. “She’s your wife, Adrian, not an employee you can order around.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed.

“Be careful what you say to me.”

Marcus remained silent, but his expression told Adrian something he didn’t want to hear.

For five years, everyone had watched Claire sacrifice her happiness to keep Adrian satisfied. He had mistaken her patience for weakness and her forgiveness for permission.

Now she had disappeared, and he couldn’t understand why.

His phone rang.

Sophia’s name appeared on the screen.

He answered immediately.

“Adrian, darling, are you still coming to dinner? I’ve been waiting all evening.”

He stared at Claire’s ring.

“Not tonight.”

A pause followed.

“Is this about Claire?” Sophia asked, her voice suddenly sharp. “She’s being dramatic. She’ll come back when she realizes she can’t live without you.”

Adrian said nothing.

Sophia continued, “Besides, you know I’ve always needed you more than she does.”

For the first time, her words irritated him.

“Stop talking about my wife as if you know what she feels.”

Sophia went quiet.

Then she laughed nervously. “Your wife? I thought you were getting divorced.”

Adrian ended the call.

He didn’t know why he had defended Claire.

He only knew that the apartment felt unbearably empty without her.

Three days later, he flew to London.

He arrived at my university just before noon, accompanied by two bodyguards. His expensive black coat and commanding presence attracted curious glances from students passing through the courtyard.

When he finally spotted me, I was sitting beneath a tree with a book open on my lap.

I was laughing at something a male classmate had said.

Adrian stopped walking.

I looked happier than he had seen me in years.

And I wasn’t looking at him.

“Claire.”

His voice cut through the conversation.

My smile faded when I turned around.

“Adrian. What are you doing here?”

He approached me, his jaw tight.

“You disappeared without my permission.”

I closed my book.

“I’m thirty years old. I don’t need your permission to leave.”

His gaze dropped to my bare ring finger.

“You took off your wedding ring.”

“Very observant.”

“Stop this nonsense and come home.”

My classmate glanced between us, clearly uncomfortable.

I stood and faced Adrian.

“You flew to London to tell me what to do? You couldn’t find five minutes to tell me you were leaving me at O’Hare, but now you expect me to abandon everything because you’ve decided you want me back?”

His expression changed.

“I made a mistake.”

“No. You made a choice. You chose Sophia, and you did it so many times that I eventually stopped expecting anything different.”

He reached for my hand.

I stepped back.

For a moment, Adrian looked genuinely stunned.

“Claire, I’m your husband.”

“And I was your wife when you left me alone at that airport.”

He lowered his voice.

“I’ll fix this. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

I looked at him sadly.

“That’s the problem, Adrian. You still think I left because you didn’t give me enough things.”

Before he could respond, I picked up my book and walked away.

This time, he didn’t follow me.

But as I disappeared into the university building, he noticed something on the bench where I had been sitting.

A photograph had slipped from my notebook.

It showed me standing beside my father at my university graduation years ago, before I had abandoned my dreams for Adrian.

On the back, I had written a single sentence.

I wonder who I would have become if I had chosen myself sooner.

Adrian stared at those words for a long time.

For the first time, he began to understand that he hadn’t simply lost his wife.

He had helped destroy the woman she once wanted to be.

And he had no idea whether she would ever forgive him.