My Wife Never Knew Who I Really Was

The blue screen in front of Ethan Cole kept flashing.

Lines of rewards poured down so quickly they almost blurred into light.

Ethan stared at it for several seconds before the memory finally clawed its way up from the back of his mind.

Three years ago, on the day he had agreed to marry Celeste Shaw, this thing had awakened.

The Check-In System.

At the time, the system had given him one absurd condition.

Check in every day for three full years.

If he missed even a single day, every reward would be erased.

If he completed the full cycle, all accumulated rewards would be released at once.

Back then, Ethan had been furious at the contract Celeste's family put in front of him. He had signed it anyway.

No public wedding.

No marital rights.

No interference in Celeste's life.

No claim to her money.

And after three years, a clean divorce.

It had sounded like a cruel joke.

Then Celeste had looked at him with those cold, exhausted eyes and said, "If you regret it, you can leave now."

He had not left.

He had thought he was choosing love.

The system had started checking in from that day forward.

At first, Ethan had watched every notification with secret excitement. Money, skills, properties, strange talents with stranger names.

Then life inside the Shaw house swallowed him.

Cooking.

Cleaning.

Waiting.

Trying to make Celeste smile.

Trying to prove that a man with nothing could still be worth keeping.

Somewhere along the way, he had stopped caring about the system.

The system, apparently, had not stopped caring about him.

Another notification burst open.

`Three-year check-in cycle complete.`

`All sealed rewards released.`

`Divine Physique Enhancement delivered.`

`Global financial asset package releasing.`

`Divine Appraisal, Divine Geomancy, Divine Hacking, and related skills delivered.`

Heat rushed through Ethan's body.

It did not feel like pain.

It felt like every tired bone in him had been removed, polished, and put back stronger than before.

His shoulders straightened on their own.

His breathing deepened.

The ache in his lower back, earned from three years of sleeping on the edge of a guest-room bed, vanished.

Then his eyes changed.

The world sharpened.

Not metaphorically.

Literally.

He could see the grain inside the wooden door across the hall.

He could see a hairline crack beneath the paint.

He could see, behind the wall, the copper pipes, the cable lines, the hollow spaces between studs.

Ethan took one step back.

The civil records office around him suddenly looked less like a building and more like a machine with its skin peeled away.

`Divine Vision activated.`

Ethan let out a low laugh.

So that was what it was.

Celeste had once told him they were not people from the same world.

At the time, the words had cut deep.

Now, standing outside the courthouse with his divorce papers in hand, Ethan looked at the city through eyes no ordinary man possessed.

"You were right," he murmured.

He folded the divorce certificate and placed it in his pocket.

"We really aren't from the same world anymore."

For three years, he had lived like a shadow inside someone else's mansion.

From today on, he would live for himself.

His phone vibrated.

Ethan opened his banking app almost out of habit.

Then he froze.

The balance had too many digits.

He blinked once.

The number did not change.

He refreshed the page.

The number still did not change.

`$99,999,999,999.00`

No.

That was only where his eyes stopped the first time.

There were more digits.

Ethan counted again.

Millions.

Billions.

Trillions.

Then numbers that made even the word trillion feel too small.

Ethan stared at the screen until the corner of his mouth slowly lifted.

Celeste Shaw was called one of Northbridge's youngest self-made billionaires.

Her net worth had been written about in magazines, whispered about in charity halls, and used by her relatives as proof that she was too bright for any ordinary man.

Now Ethan looked at his own bank balance and suddenly found the old pain almost funny.

The richest woman in Northbridge had divorced him.

And the man she had thrown away had a balance so absurd that Celeste's proud fortune looked like loose change forgotten in a drawer.

He closed the app.

Money was not the only reward.

His body was different.

His eyes were different.

His future was different.

But before he could step into that future, Ethan glanced down at himself.

His shirt had been washed so many times the collar had lost its shape.

His shoes were clean, but old.

The watch on his wrist was a cheap thing Celeste's driver had once mistaken for a deliveryman's.

For three years, Ethan had spent almost everything on the Shaw household.

Celeste's annual allowance to him, he had sent back in other ways. Birthday gifts she never wore. Handmade dinners she barely tasted. Small repairs around the house no one noticed.

He had tried to exchange effort for affection.

It turned out affection did not work that way.

Ethan looked across the street and raised a hand.

A taxi stopped in front of him.

"Century Plaza," he said.

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, then at his worn shirt.

"The luxury mall?"

Ethan smiled.

"That's the one."

Twenty minutes later, Ethan stepped into Century Plaza.

The air changed the moment the glass doors slid open.

Cold.

Polished.

Expensive.

Every surface seemed designed to remind people how much money they did or did not have.

Ethan went straight to the menswear floor.

He stopped in front of a luxury boutique with dark wood walls and a sign written in silver letters.

Before he could enter, a woman's voice came from inside.

"Ethan?"

He turned.

A sales associate in a fitted black uniform stared at him, surprise spreading across her face.

Chloe Ashford.

They had gone to the same university.

Back then, Chloe had been the kind of girl who remembered every scholarship winner, every rich kid, and every rumor attached to both.

She looked Ethan up and down.

For one brief second, her smile was sweet enough to sell perfume.

"It really is you," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you. Are you here to buy something for Mrs. Shaw?"

Ethan stepped into the store.

"No."

Chloe's eyes flicked to his clothes again.

"Then are you picking something up for her?"

"No."

"Oh." Her smile thinned. "Then what brings you here?"

Ethan said calmly, "I need some clothes."

Chloe paused.

Then she laughed.

It was soft at first, the kind of laugh people used when they wanted to pretend they were being polite.

Then it turned sharper.

"You need clothes from here?"

Ethan looked around.

"Is this not a clothing store?"

Chloe crossed her arms.

"Ethan, don't be difficult. I heard you married into the Shaw family, but everyone knows what kind of marriage that was. Mrs. Shaw never took you anywhere public. She never even wore a ring."

Her voice dropped with theatrical sympathy.

"If you're here because she sent you, that's one thing. If you're here by yourself..."

She glanced at his shoes.

"You probably can't afford our socks."

Ethan was not angry.

That surprised him a little.

Maybe because after what Celeste had done, Chloe Ashford's little performance felt too small to hurt.

"I got divorced half an hour ago," he said.

Chloe's expression changed immediately.

The last trace of sweetness vanished.

"Divorced?"

"Yes."

"So you're not even Mrs. Shaw's husband anymore?"

"Correct."

Chloe let out a dry little laugh.

"Then why are you still standing here?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"To buy clothes."

"With what?" Chloe said. "The settlement? Did Mrs. Shaw finally give you pocket money for leaving quietly?"

She leaned closer, voice full of pleasure.

"Listen, Ethan. This place serves real clients. Executives. heirs. people who don't need to check prices before breathing. You should go to the basement level. There are discount stores down there."

A few other employees looked over.

One of them hid a smile.

Ethan took out his phone.

Chloe's eyes brightened.

"What, are you calling Mrs. Shaw already?"

Ethan opened his banking app and turned the screen toward her.

"No," he said. "I just wanted to know if this is enough for socks."

Chloe looked down.

Her smile froze.

The screen showed his name.

His account.

And a balance long enough to make her forget how to blink.

One zero.

Two zeros.

Five.

Eight.

More.

Chloe's lips parted.

"This..."

She swallowed.

"This is fake."

Ethan slipped the phone back into his hand.

"Is it?"

Chloe stared at him as if he had turned into someone else in front of her.

Maybe he had.

Author's Note:

This story will continue updating here.

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Thank you for reading.