I thought marrying my childhood sweetheart would be the perfect fairy tale. But on our wedding night, Matteo Waycott—world-famous ballet dancer and the man I loved—handed me a “Perfect Wife Scorecard.” Every mistake I made, from too much salt in the soup to wearing the wrong color, meant losing points. For ten years, I lived in fear of falling below ninety. Then I found another scorecard. It wasn’t mine. It was Abigail’s—the young protégé he adored. Her score was all zeros, but at the bottom, he wrote words that shattered my world: “She doesn’t need to be perfect. She just needs to be herself.” The day he humiliated me in front of everyone, deducting ninety points just because I refused to wash Abigail’s underwear, I erased the last point myself. I was done being the perfect wife.

Chapter 1 The Perfect Wife Scorecard

Matteo Waycott, the world’s most celebrated ballet dancer, proposed to me with a gift that felt like a curse—

a "Perfect Wife Scorecard."

Too much salt in the soup? Minus ten.

Wearing a bright dress he disliked? Minus twenty.

For ten years, I lived on tiptoe, terrified of slipping below ninety points.

But one night, I discovered another scorecard.

It wasn't mine.

It belonged to Abigail Vawden—his spoiled little protégé.

Every column was a perfect zero. And at the bottom, he had written the words that shattered me:

"She doesn't need to be perfect. She just needs to be herself."

The next day, when he docked a staggering 89 points from my score just because I refused to wash Abigail's underwear, I erased that last point myself.

"Now" I whispered, "it's my turn to be meself."

***

The atmosphere was tense.

The maids on the first floor of the villa shared a look of amusement until Abigail could no longer contain it and burst out laughing.