My Husband Picked the Psychologist Over Me

I gave ten years of my life to Gabriel Smith—a wealthy heir trapped in his own world of autism—five of them spent as his dutiful wife. To everyone around us, I was nothing more than a household servant, a hired caretaker. Then his mother brought in a young female psychologist named Amalia. And for the first time, I saw Gabriel's awkward, burning affection turn toward someone else. He started rejecting everything I gave him.

One day, I tried to comfort him. He shoved me hard. "You're as annoying as a yapping dog. I don't want you anymore. I only want Amalia." Those words tore me apart. I walked away, tears streaming down my face before I could stop them.

I went to his grandmother, Aurelia. "Gabriel no longer needs me. I want to leave."

...

"How dare you go to Grandma? You're so conniving!" Gabriel slammed me down onto the bed. I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. "Gabriel, I wasn't complaining. I just want to leave—"

"Why? Because I won't do this with you?" I knew deep down Gabriel was acting out, but that knowledge didn't make the pain any more bearable. It felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside.

My lips trembled. I couldn't form words through the agony. Tears just kept falling as Gabriel's handsome face twisted in anguish, fighting his own demons.

"Isn't this what you wanted? Then I'm giving it to you..." He moved over me, and I couldn't resist as another wave of pain crashed through me. Then his low, ominous voice slithered into my ear.

"Meredith, don't run to Grandma again. I like Dr. Young. If you make her leave, I'll never forgive you." He paused. "Grandma said you want children, so I'll give you that." A bitter laugh escaped him. "You know... I hate this. It feels degrading."

Something inside me snapped. Yet on our wedding day, he'd held me close and told me he loved me. He said I was the only joy in his life.

Everything changed the day Amalia Young walked into our home. Gabriel started sleeping in a guest room. When I came near, he pushed me away, locking me out.

Mocking laughter echoed through the manor's corridors. I don't know how long I endured the relentless waves of torment before I lost consciousness entirely.

When I woke up, Gabriel was gone. The room was a wreck, and my body was battered and bruised.

I moved to the city from the countryside at eighteen to attend college. I stayed at Gabriel's house because my grandmother, Celia, was Aurelia's most trusted housekeeper. Aurelia took a liking to me almost immediately and proposed that I look after Gabriel, who had autism. Given that I was majoring in pharmacology, it made perfect sense.

Wanting to ease the financial burden on my family, I agreed. I balanced my studies with Gabriel's daily care.

When I first met Gabriel, I didn't see him as someone with a disability. I saw a young man with a soul locked inside. He rejected me, just like he rejected everyone else. But I patiently cleaned up the messes he made during his episodes, bandaged his wounds, and made sure he took his medication.

His beautiful lips pressed into a thin line, his long lashes fluttering as he defied me. I'd whisper softly near his ear, and his fair cheeks would flush pink. "You... have no shame!" he'd blurt out before reluctantly swallowing his medicine.

Gabriel fully accepted me on his eighteenth birthday. The housekeepers—long-time employees of the family—turned catty, gossiping behind my back.

"Look at her acting like she's one of them. She's just hired help like the rest of us!"

"Exactly. A cleaner's granddaughter trying to play lady of the manor—pathetic."

"She gets a little attention from Mrs. Smith and suddenly thinks she's family."

Without a word, Gabriel hurled a tray at them. The mocking stopped instantly. From that day on, he remained calm and accepted my care, which earned me even more favor from Aurelia.

So much favor that upon my graduation, she proposed I marry Gabriel. To my surprise, he agreed.

By then, my grandmother had a brain tumor, and Aurelia generously covered all her medical expenses. To repay her kindness—and perhaps because of feelings I couldn't quite name—I said yes.