When His Wife Return

Chapter 2

{Aurora's POV}

You might think that a person deprived of love her whole life wouldn't know exactly what that word means...or what it felt like, but the thing was, people live for the answer behind every mystery. And love has always been a mystery to me, and just like the rest, I long for the answers behind it.

What does it feel like to be loved? To be protected? To be the reason someone wanted to keep living? To keep going? To be chosen? To be someone's everything without asking for anything in return.

I have prayed for it before more times than I'd like to admit.

And maybe I was selfish. Lucas never wanted to be with me, and the thing was, his parents asked me if I should push through with the wedding. And what a woman with lingering hopes does for her pursuit of love and freedom? She took her chances when the opportunity knocked at her door.

I said yes.

It wasn't just my parents' decision to sign my life away to Lucas. It was my decision too, so I couldn't really blame him for his hatred towards me. But that was only because I had hoped that we could make this marriage work. I promised that I would make him love me, but when I heard him demand not to have a wedding reception or after-party and honeymoon, I knew I had made a mistake.

I asked myself countless times why people really find it hard to love me when all my life, I had done nothing wrong but wish for a tiny trace of acceptance. First from my parents. Then from him.

But how could I wish for something I couldn't even give myself?

I didn't see Lucas for a week.

I didn't know if he was coming home every night. I had no energy to leave the bed early in the morning, and I made sure to be in my room before he came home.

After he indirectly admitted his infidelity, I didn't have the energy to face him. I just couldn't. Because if I did, I might burst and let out every insecurity I carried with me.

Am I that too hard to love?

And I was too afraid to hear the answer from his mouth.

"He can't do that to you!" Keila stood up angrily after I told her about my last conversation with Lucas. She looked like she was ready to punch someone.

"Calm down, Keila." I sighed. "Lucas was probably—"

"Oh, don't you say his name right now. I'm going to murder him." Her pale cheeks burned with anger as strands of hair fell from her face. Her beauty was ethereal. I wonder if Lucas married someone like her, would his treatment be the same as how he treats me? I'm sure not.

"He's a man. He has needs," which apparently I couldn't provide for him, or perhaps he didn't want me to provide for him because he didn't want it to be me.

The knowledge was like a huge punch in the gut.

"And he has a wife for that, which was you, by the way." She uttered sarcastically, but thankfully, she had sat down now, looking calmer but still angry. "Aurora, your husband is cheating. Come on, treat yourself better than that. File a divorce and spare your pride and womanhood the shame he has brought upon your marriage before he..." She stopped and shook her head, seemingly more frustrated than I was.

Before he files the divorce himself.

"It's only been five months." I tried to argue, but we both know that even if it took us decades, nothing would change.

Spare yourself, Aurora. My mind screamed at me, but I blocked the thought out.

"My mom lasted three weeks before she filed for divorce from her fifth husband," she deadpans. "You have to spot the smoke before it turns to a fire. Spare yourself the damage it can cost you more than it already has."

Keila's words lingered in my mind until she bid goodbye. Even while I was already in my room, preparing for bed. Even when the morning came and I was sitting on a stool, sipping coffee. Her words never left my mind.

I knew I had a lot of shortcomings—things about myself that I have yet to figure out and things I must learn in order to be better. I lack growth and self-love. I wasn't stup/d not to know that, but divorcing my husband is a serious thing. What would my parents say? They would surely disown me this time, and the thought alone sent shivers of fear down my spine.

I would be homeless without even a single penny or property under my name.

I sighed and massaged my temple.

"This is stressing me out," I complained.

"What is stressing you out?"

I almost spilled my coffee, startled by the voice behind me, but then, I froze when I realized who the owner was.

He shouldn't be here. He was usually out during this hour.

My heart started throbbing so fast that I instantly regretted my choice of drink this early in the morning. I spun around, and there he was, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Now I am certain that he has no plans on going to the office today.

I blinked several times, convinced that he was only a fragment of my imagination. I must be hallucinating from thinking about this divorce thing too much.

Lucas raised a brow at me when I didn't reply, and I almost choked on my own spit.

He was real?!

"W-why are you here?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His thick eyebrows arch even more. "I live here," he stated obviously.

I almost scowled.

Obviously, that's not what I meant, and he knew it. He just didn't want to answer my question directly, which only made me even more curious. For sure, if he was on a leave or day off, our house would be the last place he would want to be in.

He continues to do his thing—going to the counter to make his own coffee—moving around the kitchen naturally. It was almost like he didn't mind my presence at all.

I pried my eyes off of him and continued sipping my coffee, trying to ignore the slight noises his actions were making.

A thought comes into my mind, but I quickly brush it off, but the longer I stay seated, the more my mind wants to entertain it.

We could've made this marriage work if only he didn't...if only he didn't do that to me. I knew there was no hope because if he indeed cheated on me—loveless marriage or not—I won't be able to forgive him.

I was never a fan of cheating. I might have little confidence and tons of insecurities, but I would never tolerate cheating.

There was a noise beside me that pulled my attention, and I was surprised to see him pulling out a stool before he sat down next to me. We were literally four meters away from each other, and I was on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Should I leave?" I manage to say without stuttering.

"Do you want to?" He asked back, glancing at me.

I swallowed. "I-I mean, if you want me to, I could leave."

He pressed his lips in a thin line before looking away. He stared at his cup for a long time before finally speaking.

"Stay," he whispered, and I wasn't sure if he was talking about my presence here in the kitchen or if it was for a completely different thing.

I should be mad. I should be angry at him.

He doesn't get to decide on that after putting me through hell and back. He doesn't get to decide when he will treat me nicely and then shut me out the next. Not now. Especially not after what he told me the last time.

But despite all those things, I couldn't stand. I remained seated but didn't say a word.

I hate myself for putting up with everything he was doing. I knew I was guilty that he was forced into this that's why I never complained about his treatment, but there was also a different reason why. And I hate myself more for it. For feeling it.

After minutes of silence, he was the first one to break it. "How do you do it?"

Confused, I glance at him. He was still staring down at his cup, and if only the latter could talk, I might think he was talking to it.

"Do what?"

"Accept everything and still be okay with it."

It was like a painful slap in my face.

He knew what he was doing. His question made me wonder if he was doing all those things because he thought that it would drive me away. Well, I'm considering it now.

"Accepting it doesn't mean I'm okay with it." My bottom lip trembled as I swallowed all the painful emotions trying to resurface. "And just because I'm not doing anything doesn't mean that I am accepting it. It's not like I have a choice."

I heard his sharp intake of breath, but I didn't dare look at him.

I continued. "I know that you were forced into this marriage, Lucas, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you get to be tied to me and had to endure living under the same roof as me. But just so you know, I didn't have the luxury to say no either. I didn't have a choice, just like I had no choice but to accept your anger."

I saw him shake his head from my peripheral vision.

"I know my parents talked to you. They asked you if you wanted to push through with the wedding, and you said yes." The calmness in his tone didn't hide the anger behind it. "You had a choice, Aurora and you chose this."

My name rolled off his tongue with such firmness that it surprised me. It was the first time I heard him utter my name this clearly. Willingly.

So, he knows me after all. Just my name.

"Yes, I could've said no to them, but do you really think my parents would let me? That my parents would let me sleep soundly if I had said no? Lucas, my words, my actions, and even my voice are limited in that house. I can't do this, I can't do that. I can't say this, I can't say that. I have no control over my life, and it was as embarrassing as the day of our wedding." My voice shook with emotions I could no longer control.

When you left me at the altar after ruthlessly taking my first kiss.

I let out a shaky breath. "But after those months of living here with you, there were no days where I'd wish I had said no, that I'd rather live with the consequences of it than endure this life every single day."

"So, you regret it now?"

A part of me does regret it so much, but there was a small voice inside my head telling me that at least I wasn't under my mother's scrutiny twenty-four seven anymore.

But what is pain without love?

They said that you have to endure the pain because that's the price of love, but where is it? Why is there only pain?

I glance at him.

"Do you?"

That question remained unanswered. He could have, but he didn't. A part of me believes that he didn't answer because he might have thought that I must already know the answer.

Yes.

The following days after that were surprisingly peaceful. My mother visited me and told me to prepare for an event that I and my husband were attending. Of course, they would also be there. She even scolded me because I didn't know about it.

How could I? Lucas never told me anything. If it weren't for our parents, I doubt he would take me there with him.

I realized that he was as voiceless as I was when it comes to our parents. That similarity alone could have brought us closer, but he chose to despise me, but at least we had some sort of closure now that made everything more peaceful.

But I should have known that peace was never in my life's vocabulary, and I was yet reminded that there were always stronger storms and thunders striking after the last ones.