My Husband's Lie Novel by Mia _ Novel





My Husband's Lie Chapter 01

After we got married, my husband, the brilliant orthopedic surgeon Ramon Riley, suddenly developed "post-traumatic chaotic prosopagnosia."
Sometimes he couldn't tell our children, Terence and Cassidy Riley, apart. Sometimes he didn't recognize our pet cat or dog, and sometimes—even me.
I endured his unpredictable rages and beatings, working three jobs just to keep us afloat.
The kids and I pinched every penny, sacrificing everything we could to pay for his treatment.
But one night, when I came home late from work, I overheard him on the phone. He was laughing and chatting comfortably with a friend.
"That post-traumatic chaotic prosopagnosia? That's just an act I put on to fool Gabriella.
"She drove Britt away, ruined her chance to have kids.
"I promised Britt I'd fake being sick and torment Gabriella for five years. When the time's up, I'll finally live a good life with Britt."
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My vision swam with darkness.
So Ramon had been pretending to be sick, torturing me for five years, all for revenge—for his first love, Brittany Floyd.
I laughed, tears falling silently.
"Ramon, I don't want to live with you anymore."
***
Our daughter Cassidy's cries echoed from upstairs.
I looked up and saw Ramon dangling Cassidy upside down over the balcony.
She was screaming, her voice raw and desperate, but Ramon just grinned at me.
"Britt, don't be scared. This little dog bit you, so I'll just toss it down."
A sharp pain stabbed my heart.
For five years, Ramon had confused me for Brittany countless times.
At first, I'd fight back, deny it fiercely. But if I refused, Ramon would test me by hurting Cassidy.
I gave in. I mimicked Brittany's every move, lived as her, and made love with him as her.
But every time I broke down from exhaustion and collapsed at the table, he'd quietly drape a blanket over me.
Whenever Terence or Cassidy got hurt, he'd nervously fumble with the first aid kit, tending to their scrapes.
When I was desperate for money, he'd hand me his treasured watch and told me to sell it.
In my darkest moments, he'd hold me and whisper, "Gabby, thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for this family."
I kept telling myself, Ramon was just sick, not unloving.
He'd get better one day.
But I was terribly, terribly wrong.
Ramon had never truly hurt Cassidy. Instead, it was me who had become unrecognizable, battered and broken through endless torment.
I ignored Ramon's threats and dragged my heavy legs upstairs.
I was so tired.
The next second, a shadow flashed before my eyes.
Ramon let go, and Cassidy fell from the balcony!
I screamed, but Ramon's icy voice floated down from above. "Britt, I've avenged you."
My vision went black. Gritting my teeth, I rushed to Cassidy.
She'd landed on a car roof, her small body a bloody, mangled mess.
She was twitching, her cries barely audible.
I froze in terror, too scared to touch her. My hands shaking, I dialed 911.
A robotic female voice answered, "Sorry, ma'am. Due to extreme snow and icy roads, ambulances can't get through."
I wanted to drive Cassidy to the hospital myself.
But she was covered in blood, bones broken, who knows how many times—I didn't dare move her.
Forcing myself to stay conscious, I ran upstairs to Ramon's room.
Ramon, the nation's top orthopedic surgeon—he was the only one who could save Cassidy now.
I swallowed my rage, begging in a low voice.
"Ramon, please wake up. Come downstairs and help me save our daughter, please?"
I thought, no matter how he treated me, he must still love Cassidy.
He hesitated, his eyes flickering. "Daughter?" he murmured.
But in the next moment, he yanked his hand free, his voice cold as ice.
"You're lying. Britt can't have children. You're Gabriella. You ruined Britt's life. You and your daughter deserve to die."
I froze as Ramon shoved me downstairs.
The snowstorm raged harder, icy flakes cutting my face like knives.
So, in Ramon's mind, Cassidy's life meant nothing compared to Brittany's.
I stared at his face—the face I'd loved for more than a decade—and felt a bitter sense of irony.
He hadn't even checked the facts himself. He'd condemned me, just on Brittany's word.
And he blamed Cassidy, too.
Stumbling, I threw myself to Cassidy's side. Her convulsions were fading, only her chest rising and falling ever so faintly.
I pulled out my phone, opened the neighborhood group chat, and sent a message: "My daughter fell from the balcony. Is anyone here a doctor? Please, I'm begging you, save my daughter!"

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