Once Divorced Twice Desired: Back and better for Christmas

Chapter 1

The car's hum filled the silence as I glanced at Theo in the rearview mirror. My heart swelled, watching his tiny chest rise and fall in deep, sleep. His soccer jersey was still streaked with dirt, his face smudged with triumph. They’d won the big game, and I couldn’t have been prouder.

The GPS said twenty more minutes to home, and I let my mind drift. Today wasn’t just about Theo’s victory; it was also my anniversary. Ten years. A milestone, right?

We now have it all. I thought about our house, the one I’d worked so hard to afford. A spacious two-story in a good neighborhood, with a big backyard where Theo could play soccer or chase butterflies. It had been my dream to give him a life better than the one I’d grown up with.

I grew up in a cramped, run-down cabin at the edge of a small town with my older brother Luke and our grandparents. I dont remember my parents but I used to hope and dream that they never really died and would come and get us one day. Not that I did not love my grandparents I still love and miss them to this day. But it was a hard life growing up with them. Money was always tight, and every dollar seemed to vanish as quickly as it came.

College wasn’t something people in my town aspired to, but I had dreams. I worked two jobs, studied late into the night, and clawed my way through law school. When I became a mother I knew I wanted to give my son everything I missed out on. So when I bought the house, it felt like a trophy—a symbol of everything I’d overcome.

The Hampton style house was a timeless two-story structure with crisp white siding and subtle gray shutters. Large windows lined the front, flooding the rooms with natural light. Tall, graceful columns framed the entry, and the manicured lawn, bordered by neatly trimmed hedges, completed the picture of my dream home. As soon as I seen it I knew I had to have it.

But Greg hated it he called it “too suburban,” grumbling about the neighbors and complaining about how it wasn’t conducive to his “creative process.” I brushed off his complaints back then, telling myself he’d adjust. After all, I was providing a life of comfort and stability, wasn’t I? It was what was best for Theo.

The phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. Luke’s name flashed on the screen.

I tapped the speaker button to answer. “Hey, Luke.”

“Hey, sis,” he replied. “Have you got me on speakerphone?”

“Yeah, I’m driving.”

“No worries,” he said. “Just calling to check on Theo. How’d the game go?”

“He was amazing,” I gushed, smiling. “They won. Theo even scored a goal.”

“Atta boy,” Luke said, his pride evident in his voice. Then, after a pause, he asked, “Wait, why are you driving now? Isn’t it a bit late?”

I hesitated before answering. “I wanted to get home early. Surprise Greg for our anniversary.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be heading back tomorrow?”

“I changed my mind,” I said, my voice softening. “I’m hoping to surprise him, remind him what today is. I almost forgot myself but I thought you know, be a little romantic and spontaneous.”

Luke made a noise, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. “When was the last time Greg even remembered your anniversary?”

“Last year,” I said quickly, too quickly.

Luke snorted. “He didn’t even get you a card, Anna. You spent the day at the office, and he went off to...what was it? ‘Research’?”

“Luke—”

“No, listen,” he cut in. “You’ve been making excuses for that piece of s**t for years. He’s not a writer; he’s a leech. When was the last time he did anything for you? For Theo? He couldn’t even attend his son’s championship game!”

I gripped the steering wheel, my smile fading. “Greg is just...passionate about his work. He’s under a lot of pressure.”

“You’re the one under pressure,” Luke shot back. “You’ve been holding up that marriage like it’s Atlas’s world. What about you? You deserve someone who shows up for you and Theo.”

My chest tightened. Luke wasn’t wrong, but admitting that felt too much like defeat. “I just want tonight to be special,” I murmured.

Luke sighed, softer this time. “You deserve more than special, Anna. You deserve real.”

“We’re working on things. Once he gets his book published, things will be different.”

“And when will that happen?” he asked.

“Soon,” I said defensively. “Meghan has been helping him get in with all the right connections, in front of important people. Apparently, he’s close to signing the deal of the century.”

Luke’s snicker was sharp. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m pulling up to the house,” I said abruptly, eager to end the conversation. “I’ll call you later.”

“Alright,” he replied. “Love you, Anna.”

“Love you too.”

We hung up just as I pulled into the driveway. For a moment, I allowed myself to feel proud again. This house was proof of my hard work and resilience. I’d built a life here for Theo.

The house was dark except for the bedroom light upstairs. I frowned. Greg must be working late again.

I slipped Theo out of his car seat and carried him to the couch, tucking a blanket around him. Then I crept up the stairs, hoping to catch Greg in one of his rare unguarded moments. Maybe tonight could still be salvaged.

Halfway up, I heard a muffled laugh. A woman’s laugh.

My stomach dropped.

I moved silently, my instincts kicking in. The bedroom door was ajar, and through the gap, I saw them. Greg. Meghan in our bed naked!

I froze, the scene before me burning into my brain. This must have been going on for months! I seethed to myself. No wonder why he never touched me anymore especially in recent months there had been absolutely zero affection.

My hand fumbled for my phone, the camera app trembling under my thumb as I hit record. I would need this later for when he tried to deny it. I had been suspecting things were off I just did not have the proof. How stupid was I to think me turning up tonight would be a pleasant surprise.

Greg’s voice cut through the air interrupting my thoughts, “Here, I got you something special to thank you for all the help you have been getting my book signed.” Greg said, his voice low and dripping with fake charm as he handed Meghan a small, elegantly wrapped box.

She gasped, sitting up straighter. “Is this for me?” she asked, her voice sickeningly sweet, as if she were an innocent schoolgirl and not the woman sleeping with her best friend’s husband.

“Of course, it’s for you,” Greg replied, grinning. “Only the best for my girl.”

My stomach churned my thoughts wild as Meghan eagerly unwrapped the box, revealing a glittering diamond tennis bracelet. She held it up to the light, the stones catching the glow of the bedside lamp.

“Greg,” she cooed, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist, “this must have cost a fortune! How did you manage to buy something like this without Anna noticing?”

Greg laughed softly, shaking his head. “Anna doesn’t pay attention to what I spend. She’s too busy playing the perfect career woman and mother to notice little things like our finances.” He smirked, his confidence oozing. “I pulled the money out in cash so it wouldn’t show up on the bank statements. No paper trail, no questions.”

Meghan giggled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re so smart, baby,” she purred. "She always acts so smart but you are the smart one. ”

I gripped my phone tighter, the recording still going.

Then Greg's voice cut through me like a knife mocking, cruel. “She thinks she’s so smart and perfect, Miss Lawyer, always bossy deciding every step we take like living here in this pathetic suburb just to get away from her pathetic past. But you know what no matter how much money she makes she will always be a low life hillbilly.”

Meghan giggled, her hands threading through his hair. “So why not just end it ages ago?”

“She just made it so damn easy,” Greg sneered. “Pays the bills, looks after Theo, cleans the house, puts dinner on the table. Why would I give that up? I needed the time to dedicate to writing if I had to get a job how could I write my book?”

He leaned closer to her, his voice dropping. “But if you say you want me to give it up, I will.”

Meghan’s voice turned syrupy. “I want you all to myself, nobody can please me like you can.”

Greg chuckled low, his hands sliding to her waist. “Oh yeah? Well guess what, Daddy’s hungry again.”

Meghan giggled even louder "Daddy is always hungry" she purred as she spread her legs wide for him to get full access between her legs.

She started to groan as my husband pleasured her with his tongue. Something he told me real men don't do.

"Thats it Baby I want you to make me c*m all over her perfect bed in her perfect house!" Meghan moaned.

Rage boiled over me. These two sick f***s! I'd heard enough!

I shoved the door open, my voice cutting through the air like a blade. "I hope your enjoying your meal Greg"

Meghan reacted instantly kicking Grieg off her and scrambled to cover herself, her face a mask of shock. Greg just looked back without a flicker of emotion. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a tone, dripping with irritation as though he was annoyed I had interrupted his feast.

“Anna, I—” Meghan stammered, her hands clutching the bed sheet.

“Save it,” I snapped, my voice shaking with fury. “Godmother to my son, huh? Best friend?” I laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and cold. “You’re a home wrecker, Meghan. A pathetic, spineless home wrecking w***e!”

And you I seethed turning at Greg “I cant believe you would do this in our house! Of all places!”

“Now, wait a minute,” Greg said lazily, reclining against the headboard like a smug king addressing his peasants. “I’m a man with needs. We all have our...extramarital moments. You’re completely overreacting, as per usual.”

The audacity hit me like a freight train. My rage bubbled over so quickly it practically boiled out of my pores.

“Overreacting?” I hissed through gritted teeth, my voice dripping with venom. I spotted the wedding photo perched on the dresser. Without a second thought, I lunged for it, the weight of its symbolic betrayal fitting perfectly in my hand. “You mean like this sacred union?” I spat, holding it up dramatically before launching it at him like a fastball.

Greg’s smirk evaporated. His eyes widened as the frame sailed through the air, hurtling toward him like karma in physical form.

Meghan let out a high-pitched scream, one that could’ve rivaled a horror movie.

It hit the bed with a CRACK, glass shattering into a glittering cascade that rained down.

As if on cue Meghan burst into dramatic crocodile tears, smudging her perfectly done makeup.

“What the f**k, Anna!” Greg yelped, scrambling back as shards of glass landed perilously close to his lap. “Are you insane?!”

I leaned forward, fists clenched, practically trembling with fury. “Oh, I’m insane?” I seethed. “Let me get this straight, Greg. You cheat on me, shrug it off like you forgot to take out the trash, and I’m the crazy one?!”

Greg opened his mouth, probably to spew more of his trademark nonsense, but I cut him off with a glare so fiery it could’ve melted steel.

“Here’s the thing about overreacting, Greg,” I continued, my voice deadly calm now, which I knew unnerved him more than my yelling. “Overreacting would be me setting this house on fire and roasting marshmallows over the ashes to celebrate. But since I haven’t done that yet, you might want to rethink your attitude.”

He stared at me, slack-jawed and blinking, clearly recalculating his survival strategy.

“And before you start mansplaining why this is all my fault, let me remind you: I’ve gone toe-to-toe with sharks in courtrooms, Greg. You don’t stand a chance.”

Tears of rage began to blur my vision, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give Greg the satisfaction of seeing me break. My chest heaved as I fought to steady my voice.

“You disgust me,” I spat, as I pointed my finger toward the door. “Get out of my house.”

For a fleeting moment, his smirk faltered, but then it returned—sharper, crueler. He folded his arms with a maddening air of amusement.

“This is my house too, Anna,” he drawled, like a petulant teenager. “Remember that? If anyone should leave, it’s you. You’re the one throwing a tantrum. Maybe take a drive, cool off, and come back when you’ve regained your sanity.”

His audacity hit me like a slap, leaving me momentarily stunned. Then, like a switch flipping, my fury turned ice cold.

“Fine,” I said, my voice soft and deadly calm. A tone Greg wasn’t used to and clearly didn’t like. “You want to stay? Go ahead. But don’t get comfortable.”

I turned on my heel, the sharp click of my shoes echoing like a countdown. At the door, I paused, looking back at him with a glare so fierce it could’ve cracked the walls.

“Pack whatever you think you need tonight,” I said, my voice steady and venomous. “Because tomorrow, the sheriff will be here to escort you out. Let’s see how brave you are when you’re standing on the curb. Meghan can help you find somewhere else to rot.”

Greg laughed, a hollow, mocking sound that made my fingers twitch. “You wouldn’t do that to me” he said, trying to sound confident but faltering ever so slightly.

I turned fully, locking eyes with him. “You’ve already taken everything that mattered to me, Greg. But I will not let you take anymore from me. By tomorrow, you’ll be out on your sorry ass, and your Meghan's problem now.”

Without waiting for a retort, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me so hard the frame rattled. My breaths came fast and heavy as I marched down the hallway and down the stairs.

Theo was curled up on the couch still, his small body rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. My heart ached as I gently scooped him into my arms.

“Mommy?” he murmured sleepily, his head lolling against my shoulder.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I whispered, stroking his soft hair. “Go back to sleep.”

His tiny arms tightened around my neck, and as I carried him to the car, the anger inside me transformed into something stronger, resolve.

Greg thought he had the upper hand, but he had no idea who he was dealing with. Tomorrow would be the start of a very rude awakening.

I carried him to the car, the world still blissfully quiet, and carefully strapped him into his seat. That serenity lasted about three seconds.

“Anna! Wait!”

I turned to see Greg barreling out of the house, barefoot, shirt half-over his head, and looking like a drunken scarecrow in a windstorm. “I need the keys to the shed!”

Before I could even process that, the universe delivered poetic justice. Greg’s foot met the slick dew of the porch. Time seemed to slow as he launched into a cartoonish slip-and-slide routine, arms windmilling before he landed flat on his back with an exaggerated thud.

“Ow! My back!” he groaned, writhing like a fish out of water before dramatically claiming. “I can’t move!”

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter, but it was no use. A tiny snort escaped.

Meghan sashayed out of the house like an over-caffeinated flamingo, teetering on absurdly high heels and draped in what looked like a satin vampire robe with feathered trim. Her mascara and eyeliner smudged so badly she could’ve moonlit as a raccoon.

“Oh, Greg, honey, are you okay?” she squealed, crouching down in slow motion like she was auditioning for a soap opera.

I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood. This was too good. Comedy gold in real time.

Then, like a true genius fueled by pettiness, inspiration struck. I pulled out my phone, opened my alarm app, and with the finesse of a Bond villain, revoked Greg’s access. A couple of taps later, the shrill, ear-splitting wail of the house alarm shattered the quiet night.

“ANNA!” Greg screeched, clutching his ears while still flailing on the ground like an overturned turtle. Meghan shrieked and stumbled, nearly toppling over as she grabbed the air in a panic.

As the alarm continued to wail, I climbed into the driver’s seat, a wicked smile etched on my face. The roar of my car drowned out their panicked screams. But just before I drove off, I rolled down the window and shouted, “Enjoy your stay lovebirds!”

With that, I hit the gas, leaving the symphony of Greg’s groans, Meghan’s shrieks, and the blaring alarm in my dust.