The Perfect Husband's Secret novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13 

The plane ticket to Paris was my escape plan. A clean break from everything. 

I told no one, spent two days quietly packing, and called an Uber for JFK at dawn. 

I dozed off in the car. 

When I woke up, I was in a stranger’s house. 

The interior looked like something out of Architectural Digest – all Restoration Hardware 

warmth and designer touches. Outside, a pristine winter landscape stretched endlessly, 

mountains rising in the distance. 

A young woman in scrubs came in, smiling. “Time for your medication, Mrs. Pierce.” 

My heart stopped. 

Where’s Nathan?” 

“Mr. Pierce will be here by seven. The mountain roads are tricky in the snow, but he never 

misses his schedule.” 

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“My phone? My luggage?” 

Another practiced smile. “Let’s focus on your medication. I can’t help with anything else.” 

“What exactly is wrong with me?” My voice was eerily calm. 

“After your accident, the trauma triggered some delusional episodes. The doctor prescribed 

regular medication.” 

So I’m a prisoner.” 

“There’s no car here. Only authorized vehicles can get up the mountain. Besides, in your 

condition, travel isn’t advised.” 

The Perfect Husband’s Secret 

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threw the pills out the window and turned to her. “If I’m delusional, then anything I do hakes perfect sense, right?” 

She fled, her professional mask cracking. 

At seven sharp, Nathan arrived. 

Snow dusted his Brunello coat and Tom Ford gloves, bringing the mountain chill with him. 

“Sorry about the delay, angel. Car broke down halfway up. Had to walk a few miles, but I made it by seven, like always.” 

I stared at him coldly. “Home? Isn’t your real home in Greenwich? With your mistress and 

son?” 

He smiled indulgently. “Emma, darling, don’t be difficult.” 

I hurled the Artemide lamp at his head. 

It hit right where his burn scar was, drawing blood. 

Without flinching, he picked it up. “Not your style? I’ll have your favorite designer piece 

here tomorrow.” 

Something in me snapped. “Why are you doing this? Why? I was leaving! You had your affair, I just wanted a divorce! I didn’t even try to destroy you or Claire! Wasn’t that enough?” 

He gave me that concerned look I’d once loved. “Emma, we’re married. That means forever. And please don’t shout – the mountain air is very dry.” 

I stared at this stranger wearing my husband’s face. 

Was this Nathan? My husband of five years? 

By day five in this mountain prison, I’d given up on escape. 

The house sat in a remote valley, cell service blocked, with just a nurse and housekeeper 

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for company, 

Show had closed the roads. The only way out was Nathan’s car.