Freya was eager to begin her new life with George after being married and move into his family’s opulent estate. Her hopes were abruptly dashed, though, when Valerie, the maid, disclosed George’s secret existence.

I moved into George’s family mansion shortly after our wedding. With its tall ceilings, arches, and exquisite gardens, it felt like something out of a fairy tale. George wanted me to get settled into our new house before we left for our honeymoon in the South of France.

But things were not as good as they appeared. Valerie, the maid, gave me a look that indicated, “You don’t belong here,” as soon as she saw me. Valerie would have to realize that I was not going to be forced out, no matter how hard I tried.
After

a few days, I made the decision to make breakfast for my new family, which included the younger siblings of George who were still living at home. I was concerned since Valerie was in the kitchen with me, observing everything I did while she wiped off the countertops. I asked her if she had seen my phone after realizing I couldn’t find it.

Valerie shook her head and gave me a casual glance. “I would hurry up and get breakfast if I were you. She stated icily, “The family expects it on the table before they come downstairs.

I

followed her suggestion and completed preparing breakfast. After a while, I discovered my phone on the chair that Valerie had just taken out. But what I saw on the TV completely changed my perspective:

Examine your spouse’s drawer. the upper left one. Then, bolt!
With the warning still ringing in my head, my heart raced as I hurried to our bedroom. Valerie had cleaned up, folding our clothes from the previous evening and made the bed. I opened the drawer not knowing what to anticipate, but despite my feelings of fear.

I discovered an old key and a bundle of letters tied with an old ribbon inside. George wrote letters that were addressed to a woman by the name of Elena. I read them all while seated on our bed and learned that George had vowed a future to a different woman.

My heart broke a little more with each syllable. Three days before George proposed to me, the last letter was a farewell one.
Feeling bewildered and wounded, I went to question George’s younger sister Ivy about the key. She answered, “Oh, I believe it’s for the attic.” George cherished that particular room. I’ve always found it very depressing. I haven’t visited that place in years.

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As I reached the attic, I noticed that it was just as gloomy and unsettling as Ivy had said. My blood ran cold the moment I turned on the light. Pictures of George and a woman, likely Elena, filled the walls. Every picture they took showed off their love, which made me feel less than real for George and our union.

I settled onto the lone armchair and watched the action. My gaze fell upon an ultrasound scan that was positioned alongside a picture showing George and Elena dancing. They were going to have a kid.
I was shocked and devastated, and I couldn’t figure out why George hadn’t told me this truth. Finding out about Elena was one thing, but concealing a newborn was another.

“Freya?” came from the doorway in a quiet voice as I was piecing together George’s treachery.

Valerie was there. “This wasn’t how you were supposed to find out,” she remarked, her voice brimming with compassion.

“You were aware of this?” Unsure of how to feel, I inquired.

Valerie slowly nodded. “Elena is my relative.” She was trying to tell you the truth. In the morning when cleaning, I placed the letters in George’s drawer.

“And the infant?” My voice trembled as I asked.

Valerie, leaning against the wall, said that Elena, who had assisted with the family’s yearly Christmas preparations, had become the object of George’s love. They became close quite quickly, but George abandoned Elena and the child, who had Down syndrome, when Elena found out she was pregnant. George had vowed to support her, but he later had second thoughts.

I showed the letters and pictures from the attic to George’s parents. Valerie informed them about Elena’s pregnancy. As soon as we were done, George came into the room, his expression indicating that he had heard everything.

“Is this true?” inquired his father.

George’s quiet was telling. The family responded right away. George’s inheritance was diverted to help Elena and her child, and he was cut off.

Regarding myself, I was given a divorce. George, heartbroken at the loss of his fortune, accepted it without question. My in-laws supported me, giving me a fresh start. I sold off some of the holdings to raise money for Valerie to start a foundation for kids with impairments, with my assistance and George’s mother’s backing. It transformed a betrayal into a glimmer of hope for others and became a legitimate indicator of achievement.

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