The Trophy Husband She Never Owned

It took five years by the side of Rhys, the undisputed heiress of the Redwood Lakes fortune, before she finally agreed to give me a title.

But on the day of the reception, she was nowhere to be found, leaving me alone to face the room full of mortified guests.

The officiant did a painful jig around the subject, and a few of her closest socialite friends burst into laughter.

“Welcome to the big leagues, brother-in-law,” one of them chirped. “Consider this your first lesson in being a trophy husband.”

They miscalculated.

I took the money Rhys had funneled to me over the years and quietly vanished from the City.

The truth was, I knew from the start that I was nobody to Rhys.

The first night she brought me home, five years ago, I feigned drunkenness. I listened from the hallway as she screamed into the phone.

“Evelyn, you are ice! You think you can just walk away? What was I to you? Do you really think I can’t live without you?”

“I begged you. I threatened to hurt myself. I drank myself into the ER with a bleeding ulcer, and you didn’t even look back? Fine. We’ll see who breaks first. I’ve already found someone a hundred times more biddable. I’d like to see how long you can last.”

By the end, her voice was a choked sob.

So, no. From the very beginning, there was no truth between us.

1

Three hours past the calculated auspicious time, Rhys still hadn’t appeared.

Ignoring the sympathetic and, more often, mocking glances around me, I calmly removed the white boutonniere from the lapel of my tuxedo.

Harper, Rhys’s older sister, leaned against the doorframe, a sneer playing on her lips. “Eager to run, are we? Rhys is only a little late. You have to have more patience than that if you want to be the future man of the house.”

I didn’t look up, continuing to unfasten the accompanying accessories in the mirror’s reflection.

Her cousin, Finn—who had always treated me like a particularly pungent piece of floor lint—sidled closer, his voice sickeningly gentle.

“Don’t take it personally, Sloan. Rhys is usually so punctual. This… maybe Evelyn suddenly got sick, and she needed to care for him?”

He drew out the name Evelyn slowly and deliberately, the pleasure in his handsome eyes poorly concealed.

I looked at his expression in the mirror and smiled.

“Take it personally?” I repeated, placing the final platinum cufflink gently into its box. “Why would I take it personally?”

The air in the private dressing suite instantly thickened.

I turned around, my gaze sweeping over their various shocked expressions.

“You all thought I was waiting for her for three hours, didn’t you?”

Harper’s face darkened. “Sloan, what is that supposed to mean?”

I stood up and slowly began to unbutton the tuxedo jacket.

“This suit is expensive,” I said, my voice flat, as if discussing the weather. “It’s a shame not to get a picture in it.”

“Sloan, don’t be an ingrate!” someone snapped. “Rhys is giving you a life! You’re not going to pull a runaway groom stunt now! I promise you, you walk out that door, and you won’t have a corner to stand on in the City tomorrow!”

The jacket fell away, revealing the simple shirt and jeans I’d changed into underneath. I reached into a pocket of the discarded garment, retrieved the old phone I’d used for years, and looked up at every pair of eyes fixed on me.

I gave a faint, cold smile.

“I never belonged here anyway.”

“So, there’s nothing for me to lose.”

I didn’t wait for their stammering responses. I walked out without looking back.

Rhys was the sole heir to one of the City’s oldest fortunes, and the people around her were naturally the children of wealth. They always looked down on me. Compared to them, my background was a marble dropped among pearls.

Nobody understood why Rhys had chosen me, and even on the day I was meant to become her husband, their contempt never lessened. The person who disappeared was her, yet the shame and scorn still fell on me.

I should have fought them, given back every ounce of stored-up humiliation from the past five years.

But I was out of time. I had a flight to catch tonight, and I needed to pack.

I wasn’t surprised by Rhys’s decision to ditch the wedding. Not at all.

The night before, unable to sleep, I’d found myself scrolling through Evelyn’s livestream.

It was 3 a.m., and he was still desperately hawking cosmetics to his viewers. Since leaving Rhys, his life hadn’t been easy. The viewer count was surprisingly high, though most weren’t there for the products. They were drawn by the barrage of gifts and the mysterious top donor.

[Log off and rest.]

[You can’t stay up, your stomach is weak. If you collapse again, I won’t come.]

[Unblock my number. Send me your banking info. I’ll transfer the money.]

[I’m getting married tomorrow. Don’t contact me again, and stop looking so pathetic.]

With every cold, stark message, a new wave of shimmering, expensive digital gifts lit up the screen. Rhys was generous to everyone, even the ex she had once claimed to despise.

Evelyn’s voice, as he described a serum, was trembling slightly. He dabbed the corner of his eye and murmured, so soft I almost didn’t hear it: “Rhys, don’t cheapen what we had with cash.”

[We had something?]

[Evelyn, I nearly bled out for you. I broke away from my family. I’m marrying a man I don’t love just to force myself to erase your memory. You were the one who walked away. You destroyed us.]

I stared at the phrase, “a man I don’t love,” and allowed myself a rare moment of blankness.

The comments section was chaos—Don’t marry! Get back together!

Evelyn bit his lip, his eyes red and fixed on the camera. “Rhys. If I said I’d come back, that I’d do anything to make it up to you…”

“Could you… please not get married?”

2

I didn’t see Rhys’s response, but her absence spoke volumes.

Rhys couldn’t let go of Evelyn; that was never a secret.

Two years ago, when my chronic back pain flared up, Rhys insisted on skipping the top specialists in the City. Instead, she dragged me a thousand miles away to a remote clinic Upstate.

Predictably, we ran into Evelyn there.

He looked just like the tattered photo in Rhys’s wallet: young, beautiful, and devastatingly unaware.

Rhys held my waist, her face impassive as she watched him. But only I knew what happened in the second Evelyn appeared.

Rhys’s fingers dug into my side, the pressure so intense I winced slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be here,” Evelyn stammered, stepping back. “I said I wouldn’t bother you again.”

Rhys’s lips were a thin, tight line.

I stood quietly, my eyes falling on the faint, intricate tattoo visible on Evelyn’s collarbone—a small dog. It was a perfect, heartbreaking match for the tiny cat tattoo on Rhys’s collarbone.

“Move,” Rhys’s voice was as cold as marble.

But as we waited for the elevator, her eyes kept flickering to the end of the hallway where he’d disappeared.

“Hold onto this,” I said, looking at the black Amex card Evelyn was clutching. “Don’t lose it.”

It was Rhys’s secondary card. She was a woman of clear boundaries—those who crossed her in business were never forgiven. Yet, that unlimited card was her final concession to him, a lifeline to keep him afloat, but out of sight. Despite her claiming he was the one person she never wanted to see again.

On the drive back, a sudden rainstorm hit.

Rhys was steering one-handed, clearly distracted. Her phone lit up—an unsaved number. She glanced at it, then slammed on the brakes.

I lurched forward, my forehead cracking hard against the dashboard. Blood instantly rushed down my face.

“Rhys…” The voice on the phone was a choked sob. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called… but my mother is critical. The hospital says it’s urgent. I don’t know who else to call…”

“I’m terrified…”

Rhys looked at me, her eyes wide with a frantic panic I’d never seen before. “Sloan, I have an emergency. You need to get yourself home.”

I rarely saw Rhys like this. Even when her company was on the brink of collapse, she hadn’t been this visibly unmoored. Unmoored enough to drop me off on the side of a highway late at night. Unmoored enough to speed into the storm without a backward glance. Unmoored enough to forget I was wearing only a thin sweater in twenty-degree Fahrenheit weather.

She just left.

I stood in the howling wind, shivering. The exit ramp was deserted. I couldn’t get a ride, and I stood there for nearly four hours until Rhys finally returned, her hazard lights blinking in the rain.

She looked utterly exhausted.

“Evelyn fainted,” she said.

I lowered my gaze.

“When I got to the hospital, I found out his mother was just in for routine observation. He panicked and exaggerated the details. I turned to leave, and he had a breakdown and collapsed. He’s fine now.”

She reached out and gripped my hand, which was ice-red from the cold. “I’m sorry, Sloan. I shouldn’t have left you. He’s been unstable lately, and I was afraid he’d do something drastic.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Are you truly over him?” I heard my own voice ask.

If she truly was so incapable of letting him go, I wouldn’t be so foolish as to stay in the way.

Rhys drove for a long time before finally answering.

“There’s nothing to ‘get over,’ Sloan. I’m not an idiot; I don’t obsess over one mistake.”

“It’s just… I pity him. He’s all alone.”

Oh. So she wasn’t over him.

After that night, Rhys consciously hid all news of Evelyn from me. I knew, but I didn’t care. Because every time she was pulled back into Evelyn’s orbit, she’d toss me a new property deed or a ridiculously expensive watch as compensation.

What did it matter? A man can’t sacrifice real money for mere dignity.

3

Because everyone knew how deep Rhys’s attachment to Evelyn ran, no one thought I would last. That’s why the wedding announcement shocked the whole City.

A week before the wedding, Harper hosted a grand, cynical pre-wedding mixer. She rented out the most exclusive private club and invited the wildest bachelors in the City.

And, of course, she invited Evelyn.

I had no reaction, but Rhys frowned slightly and murmured to me, “These people get out of hand. If you’re uncomfortable, find an excuse to leave early.”

Before she could lead me in, Harper blocked our path, smiling.

“Sloan, you don’t usually come to our gatherings. I get it. This is how we unwind. A little different from your quiet life, huh?” She handed me a flute of champagne.

I took a sip and adjusted my cufflink. “No worries. You all have fun. Just keep an eye on Rhys. Don’t let her drink too much.”

Rhys paused, seemingly thrown by my calm.

Harper didn’t notice her sister’s hesitation. She threw an arm around Rhys’s shoulder. “Rhys, he gave you permission. Come on! I specifically told Evelyn to show up. Last night of freedom, you know?”

I was past being bothered by Harper’s childish provocations. I simply gave Rhys a small nod.

But she suddenly grabbed my wrist, her brow furrowed. “What are you doing, Sloan? Pushing me out the door?”

Pushing you away? When were you ever truly mine?

I almost laughed. I looked up and challenged her. “What if I asked you not to go, not to see Evelyn? Could you promise me?”

The club lights were dim, the music loud.

I waited. Harper broke the silence first, raising her voice. “Rhys! They’re waiting!”

Rhys’s eyes flickered. Her fingers twitched, and then she let go of my wrist.

“I’ll be home, Sloan.”

Before she could finish the sentence, Harper yanked her inside.

I stood in the hallway’s shadow, watched the door swing shut, and turned to walk away. I didn’t look back.

On my way out, a glass shattered in a nearby suite. Then, a man’s choked cry. It sounded familiar.

As I neared, the door flew open, and a woman stumbled out, clutching a bleeding forehead, reeking of liquor. “Who the hell do you think you are? You hit me?”

Evelyn was standing in the doorway, looking wronged and terrified. “I don’t know you! You kept coming onto me!”

“You spoiled little poor boy, playing high and mighty!” the woman shrieked. “Pay me, or you’re not leaving tonight!”

Evelyn’s eyes welled up. He was crying but fiercely trying to hold it in. His swollen eyes swept toward me.

“Go ahead and watch! I don’t have any connections, but I’m not trash! You don’t get to look down on me!”

He made it sound like I was the one humiliating him.

The woman grabbed his arm. “Pay up.”

“I don’t have cash!”

“Then drink all this. I’ll let you go.” She noticed the corner of the black Amex card poking out of his wallet. “You have a card like that, and you’re poor?”

“No!” Evelyn screamed, tears streaming now. “I can’t touch this!”

“I’ll drink it!”

He grabbed a liquor bottle from the coffee table and began chugging it. The alcohol made him cough violently, but he wouldn’t stop.

I couldn’t watch anymore. “How much? I’ll cover it.”

“I don’t need your fake pity!” Evelyn shrieked, losing control.

He raised his hand and struck me. Hard.

My ears rang. The side of my face instantly burned. In the dizzying moment, I saw the door burst open. Rhys rushed in, pushing past me without a second thought. She grabbed the trembling man and pulled him tight against her chest.

“Evelyn, don’t be a coward. Hit him back!” she shouted.

“Why aren’t you using the money I gave you!”

I staggered, holding the wall. The pain in my cheek was nothing compared to the shock.

“Sloan!” Rhys looked up at me, her eyes like chipped ice. “You said you were going home early! You came here to harass Evelyn?!”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I turned and walked away.

She would never know the truth. I desperately wanted her to believe I was the villain.

The more she hated me, the easier it would be to leave.

Rhys finally came home around 3 a.m., smelling of smoke and expensive liquor. I was still up, researching immigration forms in the study.

She snuck up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. The warmth of her breath, mixed with alcohol, feathered my ear.

“Why are you still up? Waiting for me?”

“Yes. Is Evelyn okay?”

“I’m so sorry, Sloan. I misunderstood. That woman was harassing him. I handled it and came straight back after dropping him off.” She rubbed her face against my neck, her voice laced with a childish attempt at placation. “I kept checking my phone. You didn’t text me once. Are you still mad?”

I was too tired to humor her. But she was unusually clingy, forcing me to turn around so she could look into my eyes.

“Were you jealous? I swear, I didn’t touch Evelyn. Harper will tell you. I didn’t even give my number to the other guys.”

I held her gaze for a long time, then sighed, resigned. I wrapped an arm around her and led her toward the bedroom.

4

The first time I saw Rhys was outside the university gates, near a used bookstore.

She had probably just come from the City club across the street, holding a black umbrella, her expression dark, like she’d just ended a devastating fight.

Just as she was getting into her car, the store owner grabbed the tattered dictionary I was putting back on the shelf.

“Hold it! You folded the page, you buy the book!”

“I just opened it. That crease was already old,” I tried to explain, my voice thin in the wind.

The owner was relentless. “I say you did it, you did it! Thirty dollars, or you don’t leave!”

In the scuffle, my backpack strap tore, spilling my textbooks everywhere. A flimsy, water-stained student aid appeal form fluttered out, instantly soaking up the mud.

As I knelt to retrieve it, a black umbrella settled steadily above my head.

“How much?”

Rhys’s voice was low but carried a cold, absolute authority.

The owner stammered, looking her up and down, sizing up the expensive car behind her. “Thi-thirty…”

Rhys didn’t speak. Her female assistant stepped forward and handed over a hundred-dollar bill. The owner grumbled and retreated.

Rhys finally looked down at me. Her gaze passed over my wet hair and settled on the crumpled form.

“Which university?”

“…A&M.”

She nodded, handed me the umbrella, then knelt down herself. She gathered my waterlogged books one by one. She took off her tailored cashmere coat and, without asking, draped it over my thin sweater.

“Get in the car. I’ll take you back.”

Her car was parked by the curb. The interior was spotless, the heat already blasting.

“Need money badly?” she asked, looking straight ahead, her tone as neutral as discussing the weather.

“Yes.”

“Your name?”

“…Sloan.”

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating.

“Work for me. I’ll cover your tuition and living expenses. I’ll give you a five-thousand-dollar monthly allowance.”

My rational mind screamed at me to refuse. It was absurd. There were no free lunches.

But in my periphery, I saw the designer bags and the stacks of US currency carelessly tossed onto the back seat.

I wavered. I needed the money. I needed to escape my immediate reality. I needed to grab this sudden, irrational opportunity.

She stopped the car beneath a leafy canopy near the dorms. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. She waited silently.

“Why?” I heard myself ask.

She turned to face me. There was no warmth in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

She paused, then added: “And this amount of money means nothing to me.”

She was right. My desperation, my struggles, were insignificant in her world.

I lowered my gaze, clutching the soggy books to my chest.

“Thank you. I’ll consider it.”

At the time, I didn’t understand her motives. But after hearing her furious phone call, it all made sense. I was an impulse buy, a tool to prove to Evelyn that she’d moved on, a blunt weapon to incite jealousy.

But perhaps it was the lure of the money, or a faint flicker of longing I couldn’t name, that made me choose silence in that moment.

I knew exactly what I was doing, and exactly what I wanted. Anything but love, I was willing to take.

…

Perhaps it was my utter calm in the face of Rhys’s desertion that unnerved her friends. One of them quietly called her.

“Rhys! Sloan is packing. It looks like he’s actually leaving the City!”

I heard a man’s loud, joyful laugh on the other end, and then Rhys’s voice, a shade impatient from being interrupted.

“Leaving? What is he pulling now?”

“It’s your wedding day, Rhys. The guests are all here.”

“And?” Rhys gave a light, dismissive laugh. “Tell him to stop being so melodramatic and wait until I’m finished.”

“Rhys, this doesn’t seem like melodrama. He looks serious.”

“Why wouldn’t he be serious?” Rhys’s voice was utterly careless. “He’s with me for the money, isn’t he? I’ve given him houses, stock options, jewels—what have I skimped on? To pull this stunt now… he’s taking himself a little too seriously.”

She paused, perhaps taking a drink.

“Tell him I’ll transfer another million to his account. Tell him to settle down. Men like him just need to be placated.”

The hushed conversation ended abruptly outside the door. Even her most loyal friends looked uncomfortable.

“He’s only with me for the money.”

“Men like him just need to be placated.”

I gave a deeply sarcastic curl of my lip as I looked at the lone wedding band on the vanity. I pulled open the door and, ignoring their various stares, calmly walked out.