His Mistress Is My Biggest Fan
1.1k Views · Ongoing · Noah
My name is Emma. I used to be an interior designer with my own studio. To support my husband’s startup, I shut it all down, stepping into the shadows to become a full-time housewife.
On my birthday—our third wedding anniversary—he slammed divorce papers on the table.
He told me he had fallen in love with someone else: his subordinate, the woman who had been a constant fixture in our home lately.
But there was one crucial detail he missed.
She never joined his company for him.
She was my junior in college, the most fiercely loyal admirer of my design work. She didn't take that job or frequent our house because she was enamored with him. She did it to track me down, desperate to ask if I would ever design again.
And that man? Right up until the ink dried on those divorce papers, he smugly believed he was just dumping a mediocre, chore-bound wife.
He had no idea that the moment I picked up my drawing pen again, the housewife he looked down on would become a business rival entirely out of his league.
On my birthday—our third wedding anniversary—he slammed divorce papers on the table.
He told me he had fallen in love with someone else: his subordinate, the woman who had been a constant fixture in our home lately.
But there was one crucial detail he missed.
She never joined his company for him.
She was my junior in college, the most fiercely loyal admirer of my design work. She didn't take that job or frequent our house because she was enamored with him. She did it to track me down, desperate to ask if I would ever design again.
And that man? Right up until the ink dried on those divorce papers, he smugly believed he was just dumping a mediocre, chore-bound wife.
He had no idea that the moment I picked up my drawing pen again, the housewife he looked down on would become a business rival entirely out of his league.

















































