Wanted By My Ex-husband

Eleanor walked into the bedroom, clutching a stack of papers in her hand. "Caesar, I found these divorce papers on the table. Are you working on a new case?" She asked, her voice soft and almost hesitant. He was standing by the window, her beloved husband, and now CEO of Apex Advocates Law Firm. He spent seven hours of his day, often on phone calls and texts, while the rest of his work time was in the courtroom. He was on a call, and Eleanor knew better than to interrupt. She stood quiet and waited, but her heart cracked open like a walnut in her chest at the last words that left his lips. “She'll be gone by today, Susan. You're the only one I love.” The phone clicked off. Caesar turned, startled by his wife's presence. Her face was pale and unreadable, but his surprise quickly gave way to annoyance. “How long have you been standing there?” “Not long,” Eleanor lied calmly, despite the lump in her throat. “Was that your sister?” Her voice hitched slightly as she feigned ignorance, her thumb nervously tracing the edges of the file in her hands. Caesar scoffed and brushed past her, walking to the living room, each step more decisive than the last, and Eleanor timidly followed behind him. “I'm with it,” Eleanor stammered, holding up the file in her hands. “The divorce papers. Who are they for?” He turned to her, his expression cold. "The papers are ours. I'm filing for a divorce. Susan and I are getting married." Eleanor's chest tightened. She had suspected her husband's infidelity, but never to the point of divorce. “Married?” She whispered, a drop of tears trickling down her cheeks. Caesar pressed a palm to his temple and sighed. "Save your tears, Eleanor. You knew this day would come." True as it may be, it didn't cause Eleanor's heart to hurt any less, watching the only life she had crumble before her. Her thoughts raced back to the promises his grandmother made when she convinced her to drop her job as a resident doctor and marry Caesar. All those promises of a better life now seemed like a cruel joke. Eleanor fell on her knees and reached out to hold her husband. “Darling," she pleaded. "Whatever I did wrong, I promise to fix it. Just tell me–" Caesar sank onto his couch and watched Eleanor beg on her knees. There was no sign of remorse or pity towards the woman who had sacrificed three years of her life to better his. "You're still young. Who knows? There might be some old man out there ready to marry you," he said with condescending pity. "But this thing between us, Eleanor—it's over. Sign the papers and leave my house." Eleanor dug her fingers into her husband's trousers. “I am your wife,” her voice cracked. "And you're all I have." "Susan—my fiancée will be here with my mother soon. I suggest you leave before they arrive." Caesar frowned. “Are you choosing that outsider over me?” asked Eleanor, her voice dripping with pain. “She is no outsider,” Caesar snapped. "You should be grateful she didn't press charges after you pushed her down the stairs." "But I didn't push her," Eleanor cried. Before she could say more, the front door was opened and a group of four entered, led by Susan, who hobbled in on crutches, and her left leg in a cast. “What is this wretched woman still doing in our house?” Hilda, Caesar's mother, spat. Eleanor stood frozen and watched Caesar cross the room to embrace Susan. He kissed her tenderly in front of everyone, and the desire in his eyes drove a stake through Eleanor's heart. Mrs Sansa, the only person who had shown Eleanor kindness, spoke up weakly to her grandson. "Caesar, show your wife some respect." Caesar scoffed. "Eleanor is no longer my wife," he said with unyielding firmness. “Susan and I will get married, and that is final.” Eleanor watched as Caesar cradled his new fiancée. He wrapped her arms around her waist, as if shielding her from a storm that had already passed away. Her heart twisted as she watched him hold her so lovingly, and as the weight of their abuse pressed down on her, something inside her snapped. She fought back her tears, and without uttering a word, she picked up the file, a pen lying on the table, and she signed the divorce papers. She shoved them into Caesar's chest, walked back to their bedroom and packed a small bag full of her clothing. Before stepping down, she made a call, and moments later, a sleek black SUV pulled up outside the house. The bedroom door creaked open slowly, Caesar walked with furrowed brows. "What the hell are you still doing here?" He asked, scornful eyes raking all over Eleanor. Eleanor approached him with a smile and patted his cheek. “I was just about leaving.” She stopped by the open doorway and looked back at the man she'd given her all. “I hope we never cross paths again. But if we do" she tilted her slightly, her eyes gleaming with quiet resolve, “I'll be the one to hurt you.” She left with a composed demeanor, even though her heart bled with sorrow and regret. Caesar watched through the window as Eleanor embraced Duke, her best friend. He was unsettled as she stepped into the vehicle and left without looking back. Something in him twisted, but he shook the feeling and whispered to reassure himself. "Susan is the one I love." ******* As the first light of dawn seeped through the curtains the next day, Eleanor woke up feeling more exhausted than she did last night. A wave of nausea hit her, and she bolted to the bathroom to throw up. After a few minutes, she emerged, pale and unsteady, to find Duke on the bed, concern etched on his face. “Eleanor, you look awful. Did something happen?” “Oh, I'm fine,” Eleanor replied weakly, brushing off his concern. "I’m just tired." A few seconds later, she rushed back to the bathroom and returned looking worse than before. Duke wasn’t convinced. He stood up from the bed and walked up to her. “Eleanor, I know there's something wrong,” he said gently, his eyes filled with worry. “How can you not even tell that you're ill. What's going on?” Eleanor took a deep breath and looked up at him with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation. “I've been feeling sick lately, usually in the morning. But I’m sure it’s nothing.” Duke's face softened with understanding. “Have you taken a pregnancy test?” he asked gently. She shook her head. “No, I don't think so... I mean, I can't be pregnant, can I?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It's possible,” Duke replied, his tone gentle yet firm. “When was the last time you and Caesar had s*x?” “Three weeks ago,”she responded, her eyes wide with realization. “Let’s go to the hospital,” Duke suggested. “We’ll know better once you’ve done a test.” They got to the hospital an hour later and met with a doctor. Once the test was done, Eleanor’s hands trembled as she sat in the waiting room. The minutes dragged on until the Doctor finally returned with a clipboard in his hand. He smiled at them warmly. “Congratulations Mr. McCoy, your friend here is three months pregnant.”