The Husbands Plea
1218 Words
AVA
I stood there, gripping the handle of my suitcase so tightly that my knuckles turned white. The tension in the room thickened with each passing second, Marcus's shocked expression freezing him in place. His mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. Finally, he frowned, shaking his head as if he didn’t understand.
“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice cracked through the silence, demanding, but behind it was something more—confusion, desperation. For the first time in a long while, I saw him falter. This wasn’t part of his script. I wasn’t supposed to leave. I was supposed to beg for his attention, cry for his affection. But not this.
I turned to face him fully, my chest tightening. His face—the one I used to dream about, the man I once thought I could spend my life with—now felt like a stranger’s. How could I have ever loved him? This man, who had left me to die in the cellar without a second thought? The memories crashed over me, unrelenting, dragging me back to that freezing moment when the ice had cut through my skin, the darkness closing in as the cold consumed me.
And yet here he was, standing in front of me, acting like nothing had happened. I felt bile rise in my throat. How could he do this? How could he look at me like I hadn’t seen the truth of who he was?
“I’m leaving, Marcus,” I repeated, my voice sharper now, the mask of calm I’d been wearing slipping just a little. “This is over. You and me. I can’t do this anymore.”
He stared at me, his frown deepening, a flicker of something in his eyes—was it panic? “You’re not making sense.” He took a step closer, as if closing the distance between us would help him understand. “Why now? What’s changed?”
Everything.
I wanted to scream it at him, to throw all the hate and anger I had bottled up for so long into his face. But I couldn’t. Not yet. I had to stay calm, had to keep control. This was different now. I wasn’t the same woman who had begged him to love her, to stay faithful, to be the husband I had once believed he could be.
I glanced at the door, wondering how quickly I could leave without causing more drama, but his voice pulled me back.
“Please, Ava.” His tone was softer now, almost pleading. “I know things have been… difficult lately. But I can change. I *will* change. Just stay. Don’t do this.”
For a split second, his words hung in the air, twisting through my thoughts. I never expected this. This wasn’t how things had gone before. In my past life, he had never begged me to stay, never promised to change. His arrogance had been his defining trait, and now here he was, pleading with me, as if he could actually care.
I should’ve ignored him. I should’ve walked out of that room and never looked back. But something about the way he said it—*I will change*—it made me stop.
Could this be an opportunity?
I stared at him, studying the way his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched with worry. He thought he could win me over with his false promises. But now I knew better. I knew him better. Marcus was good at pretending, good at making people believe what he wanted them to see. But underneath it all, he was a master manipulator. And this time, I wasn’t going to be his victim.
This time, I was going to use him.
“You’ll change?” I asked, tilting my head, letting my voice soften just a little, testing the waters. I needed to see how far he’d go. “Why should I believe you?”
His shoulders relaxed slightly, sensing a glimmer of hope. “Because I love you. I’ve just been… distracted. I haven’t been myself. But I can fix it. We can fix this. For the baby.”
The baby. He said it as though he actually cared. As if the thought of our child had meant something to him all this time. He was good—too good. He’d spent years perfecting the art of manipulation, of playing on my emotions, of making me believe there was still something worth saving.
But this time, I wasn’t the same fool he had once played.
Still, I could use this. His desperation was my chance. I wasn’t going to leave just yet. Not before I had what I needed. I could stay, pretend, make him believe I was still that vulnerable woman who depended on him. And then I’d strike. I’d tear him down from the inside, just like he had done to me.
I forced a small smile onto my face, feigning reluctance. “Maybe… maybe we can work on things,” I said slowly, watching his expression brighten ever so slightly. “But I need time.”
“Of course.” He took another step toward me, his voice filled with false relief. “Whatever you need.”
His voice faded, each word blurring into the next, like distant echoes through a thick fog. I wasn’t really there—not in that room, not in that moment. I was somewhere else, a place where everything felt slower, quieter, as if the world had folded in on itself.
I shook my head and snapped out of my oblivion. Just in a second and I imagined how Marcus would react if I actually told him I knew the truth about him and my sister. I was sure he was going to manipulate me. I tried to hold back my tears and pain.
I lowered my eyes so he won’t see how distorted I was.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked noticing my silence for a while.
“There’s a pregnancy meetup tonight and tomorrow. I was planning on going.”
“Okay. You should go” Marcus said quickly. The bastard couldn’t wait for me to leave and give him time to sleep around with my sister. I felt a sharp pain in my chest as I squeezed the shirt in my hand.
I grabbed my coat and headed for the door, not looking back. I had to get out of that house before I lost my nerve. Before he saw through the cracks in my facade.
---
The meetup was a quiet gathering in a cozy cafe. Women sat around small tables, discussing their pregnancies, their hopes, their fears. I blended into the crowd, sipping tea, pretending to listen. But my mind was elsewhere, replaying the scene with Marcus, planning my next steps.
That’s when I saw him.
It couldn’t be. My heart stopped, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes locked onto a figure across the room. Tall, with that same tousled dark hair, the same broad shoulders that had once felt so familiar.
My high school sweetheart. The boy I had loved with everything in me. The one I had thought had died years ago.
But there he was. Alive.
And looking right at me.
- Writer
