THE SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND BECAME HIS WIFE'S BOSS

CHAPTER 2

Diego didn't go after her that night. Instead, he drove home in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel as the city lights blurred past him. The house was dark when he arrived, but he didn't reach for the light switches. He sat in his favorite chair, the one Isabella had always complained was too old and shabby for their living room, and let the darkness wrap around him like a familiar embrace.

The memories came in waves. Isabella lying in the hospital bed three years ago, her legs motionless beneath white sheets, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the ceiling.

"He's gone, Diego," she had whispered that first night after the doctors delivered the devastating news. "Alejandro... he won't even take my calls."

"I'm here," Diego had said, taking her hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you're not him," she had replied, so quietly he almost missed it.

Diego reached for the pack of cigarettes he had bought on impulse at a gas station—his first pack ever. His hands shook as he lit one, the acrid smoke burning his throat. But the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest.

Hour after hour, he sat smoking in the darkness, watching the pile of cigarette butts grow beside him as fragments of their years together played in his mind. The months of physical therapy, carrying Isabella when she couldn't walk, celebrating every small milestone in her recovery. The day she took her first steps again, how she had looked past him, as if searching for someone else to share the moment with.

"Diego, look! I can walk!" she had cried out, but her eyes had been distant, lost in some other time, some other place.

"I see you, Isabella. You're amazing."

"If only..." she had started, then caught herself. "Never mind."

Dawn broke slowly, painting the room in shades of gray and gold. Diego was on his tenth cigarette when he heard the key in the lock. Isabella stumbled through the door, her hair disheveled, her makeup smudged. Dark marks dotted her neck—love bites that told the story of her night.

She froze when she saw him sitting in the shadows, her eyes narrowing with disgust.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, waving away the cigarette smoke. "Since when do you smoke?"

Diego took another drag, his eyes never leaving her face. "Since tonight."

"Well, stop it. It's disgusting." She kicked off her heels, not bothering to pick them up. "And why are you sitting in the dark like some pathetic—"

Her words died as she noticed the birthday cake on the dining table, still pristine in its pink and white frosting, twenty-eight candles standing unlit.

"Jesus, Diego. I told you I hate birthday celebrations. Why would you waste money on this garbage?"

Diego turned to her slowly, his voice carrying a bitter edge she had never heard before. "You don't hate birthdays, Isabella. You just hate celebrating them with me."

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"Tell me," Diego interrupted, rising from his chair. "Did Alejandro remember it was your birthday?"

Isabella's face flushed. "That's none of your business."

"I'm your husband. Of course it's my business."

"Husband?" Isabella laughed harshly. "Is that what you think you are? You were never my husband, Diego. You were Alejandro's substitute. A placeholder my parents bought to keep their crippled daughter from dying alone."

The words hit Diego like physical blows, but he remained standing. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

"It's the truth! My parents paid you, Diego. They gave you a bank card and a house and asked you to play the devoted husband. And you've been cashing those checks ever since."

"I never touched that money."

"Please. You think I'm foolish? You live in my house, you drive cars I pay for. Everything you have, everything you are, comes from me.

Alejandro is much better than you!"

Diego turned to face her. " Much better? The man who abandoned you when you needed him the most?”

Isabella's eyes blazed with fury. "Alejandro didn't abandon me! His family forced him to stay away. They thought I would never walk again, never be able to give him children, never be the wife he deserved."

"And you believed that?"

"It's the truth!"

"The truth is that when you needed him most, he chose his family's money over you. When you needed me, I chose you over everything else.

“ Diego paused, looking at Isabella in the eye. “This man who left you when you were paralyzed—is he really worth destroying everything for?"

"Shut up! He came back for me!"

"He came back because you're famous again. Because you can walk again. Because you're useful to him again."

Isabella's hand flew across Diego's face, the slap echoing through the room. "How dare you! Alejandro loves me! He's offering me things you could never give me!"

Diego touched his cheek, tasting blood where her ring had cut him. "What things?"

"He got me an audition with Ricardo Vega. The Ricardo Vega! The role could put me back at the top of the industry!" 

"And you think Alejandro arranged that?" 

"I know he did! He has connections, influence, power. Things you'll never have."

Diego laughed, the sound bitter and hollow. "So that's what love is to you. Connections. Influence. Power."

"Love is practical, Diego. Love is about building a future together, not living in some romantic fantasy."

"Then I guess we were never in love."

Isabella's expression faltered for just a moment. "No. We weren't."

Diego nodded slowly. "At least we agree on something."

He walked to the dining room and picked up a manila envelope from the sideboard. Isabella watched him, her breathing shallow.

""What is that?"

 "Divorce papers." Diego placed the envelope on the table.

 "Already signed." Isabella rolled her eyes and laughed mockingly. "Oh, please! What is this, some pathetic soap opera performance? You think waving papers around will make me come crawling back to you?" 

"It's not a performance." Diego reached into his pocket and pulled out a bank card—the same one her parents had given him three years ago. 

"This is yours too. I never spent a penny of it." 

"Diego, enough with this ridiculous charade! You're embarrassing yourself."

 "I'm not acting, Isabella. You want to be with Alejandro? You want your career back? You want your freedom?" He headed toward the door. "You have it." Isabella's voice turned sharp and condescending. 

"Oh, so now you're the noble husband graciously setting me free? How generous of you!" She crossed her arms smugly. 

"This is just another one of your desperate attempts to manipulate me, isn't it?" Diego paused at the door without turning around. "Believe whatever you want. It changes nothing."

 "You'll be back by tonight, begging for forgiveness. You always come crawling back." "No, I won't." 

"Don't be absurd, Diego. Where are you going to go? What are you going to do? You're nothing without me."

 "Goodbye, Isabella." The door closed behind him with a soft click. Isabella stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the divorce papers on the table.