Goodbye Saintess (by Edelweiss W.S.) novel Chapter 1

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant living under the weight of her ascetic approach to intimacy. Our physical connection was confined strictly to the sixteenth day of each month. Every nuance—my posture, the pace, even the look on my face—had to conform to her unwavering standards. Should I show too much enjoyment, she would abruptly rise and walk away without a word.

We had been bound in marriage for five long years. Had I grown weary of this routine? Absolutely. Yet, despite the exhaustion gnawing at me, I always yielded. I accepted these constraints because my love for her was stronger than my frustration.

“The Saintess loves me too,” I reassured myself in quiet moments.

She truly resembled a Saintess—pure, revered, and distant. But beneath that sacred exterior, I convinced myself she cared for me. That belief became my own kind of faith, standing firm alongside hers.

Then everything shattered the day I was dispatched to extinguish a raging fire at a hotel. Amid the choking smoke and roaring flames, I stumbled upon my wife pressed tightly against a disheveled man. Nestled between their arms was a small boy.

I had never witnessed Hera wear that expression before. She trembled slightly, yet her voice was calm as she soothed the child, leaning into the man’s embrace.

There was a gentle warmth radiating from her, a tenderness I had never seen directed at me.

I stood frozen, the heat of the fire searing the air around me, but inside, I felt as if I had plunged into the coldest, darkest abyss imaginable.

“Snap out of it, Grimwald! We’ve got a family to save!” barked my captain, Albert Holst. “You take the next room!”

Hera looked up, her eyes wide and confused. It was as if she could see right through my fire mask.

Our gazes locked, and in that moment, my heart felt like it was tearing apart.

Albert called them a family. If that was truly the case, then what did I mean to her?

The flames continued to roar, and duty forced my thoughts aside. I dashed off to search the next room for anyone trapped inside.

…

It took three grueling hours to finally bring the fire under control. Thankfully, no lives were lost.

But by the time I emerged from the building, Hera, the man, and the child were gone without a trace.

I meant so little to her that she didn’t even think I deserved an explanation.

I let out a bitter chuckle. What had I been doing all these years?

…

When I returned home, Hera was already there. That was unusual—she typically stayed late at the office until the early morning hours. I assumed she had been waiting for me.

I expected answers. I was even prepared to forgive if her reasons made sense.

Instead, she was engrossed in a video conference, not even sparing me a glance.

An hour or more passed before the meeting ended. Only then did Hera finally look my way and toss a document toward me.

“An adoption?!” I exclaimed, my chest tightening painfully.

“Yes,” she said simply. “We’re adopting the child you saw today.”

“Why? What’s your connection to him?” I demanded, my voice rising. “And that man—what’s his role in all this?”

“His name is Edmund Castle. He’s Bobby’s father and my colleague. That’s all you need to know. Nothing else concerns you,” she replied coldly.

I smirked, disbelief curling on my lips. Was that truly the full story? Was this the only explanation I’d ever receive?

She offered no room for discussion. No, it was a decree, not a conversation.

“Make it make sense, Hera! Why meet your ‘colleague’ in a hotel? Why were your clothes disheveled? Tell me the truth—does that child belong to you?” I pressed, my hurt spilling out.

Her frown deepened. “You’re reading too much into this. Remember, I’m an Awakenist. I don’t commit such sins. I have not been unfaithful.”

But now I understood the truth. The Saintess had never been forbidden from happiness. The real reason she never smiled at me was because I meant nothing to her.

Once they finished unpacking, Hera decided to bathe Bobby. Suddenly, I heard the water stop and then the child’s crying.

A wave of anxiety washed over me. Hera had never been a mother or cared for a child before. And Bobby was so young—he could have hurt himself in so many ways.

I couldn’t help but worry. Hera was my wife for five years, and naturally, I cared about her. And though I barely knew Bobby, he was a child we had adopted. Despite our fight last night, he was innocent.

I opened the door and stepped into Hera’s room, ready to offer help.

I froze.

The first thing I noticed was a man’s overcoat hanging near the door.

Through the half-open bathroom door, I caught sight of the scene inside.

Bobby was sobbing, his gums bleeding from brushing too hard. Hera, wrapped in a bath towel and smelling fresh from the shower, comforted him gently. Behind her, Edmund held a hairdryer, teasing Bobby about being a scaredy-cat.

It was the perfect picture of a happy family.

Except this was my home, and that woman was supposed to be my wife.

My face drained of color. It felt like my heart was ripping apart once again. My knees buckled, and I staggered backward, hitting the wall.

The noise caught Edmund’s attention. He finally saw me and panicked.

“Mr. Grimwald! This isn’t what you think! I sent Bobby over last night, but the kid didn’t want me to leave, so I stayed,” he explained hurriedly. “I was just here for Bobby. That’s all!”

I reeled. It hit me—this was no hallucination. He had spent the night here, in her room, in my house. And he had done something I was never permitted to do—not even as her husband.