Six Years of Sexless Marriage, My Devout Husband's Hidden Family

In the most innocent years of my youth, I gave up passion for the illusion of love, entering a sexless marriage just to become Mrs. Francis Weston, the man I had adored in silence for ten long, aching years.

He wore his faith like armor, untouchable and unreachable.

Loving him felt like chasing smoke—beautiful, yes, but impossible to hold.

Before we even exchanged vows, he laid out his terms.

“No children,” he said, voice flat and unyielding. “And I won’t touch you.”

That was it.

No tenderness. No explanations. No room for questions.