The Wife He Forgot To Love

Chapter 2

Ariel's POV

I woke up to the smell of blueberry pancakes, my favourite breakfast meal, and for one dumb moment, I let a smile form on my lips.

Matt was making breakfast, for me.

But as I sat up on my bed, my eyes caught sight of the divorce papers which I had signed last night, lying on the nightstand, and reality sank in.

He must have signed his part too and wanted me to go through it.

The smile on my lips faded immediately, and the necklace which I still wore on my neck grew heavier as I remembered that I was no longer married to him.

I took the bed sheets off my body, stretched a little, and walked down the stairs.

Just as I passed the dining table, something caught my attention. The number of plates.

There were three plates and three glasses, instead of two...

Were we expecting someone? Matt wouldn't invite anyone without letting me know.

Without pausing to think, I walked to the kitchen and saw my husband, sorry, my ex-husband, cooking and humming a sweet song.

He was cheerful.

"What are you making?" I cleared my throat.

He turned to look at me, with a smile that stretched across his face, "Blueberry pancakes. Good morning."

Because apparently, heartbreak pairs well with whipped cream.

"You didn't have to—"

"It's your last breakfast here," Matt cut me short immediately, flipping the pancakes perfectly, "I wanted to treat..."

Ding dong.

We were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

"She's here." His eyes brightened as he skipped to the front door. "Baby..." I heard him call as I took a few steps to see them.

I didn't need anyone to tell me that she was the Beatrice.

She was... I hated to admit it... she was beautiful.

She looked like the kind of woman who never had to think about what she ate, wearing silk like it belonged to her.

While myself... I... was the exact opposite.

Instead of compliments, I received more of gym recommendations.

The closest I'd ever gotten to a "you look beautiful," Is a "you look healthy."

Taking a deep breath, I decided to go say hello.

I met them halfway at the dining and with the brightest smile I only see on the faces of influencers, Beatrice took a few strides toward me.

"Good morning, you must be the roommate, Mattie mentioned," Beatrice said sweetly. "I'm Beatrice. Matt's girlfriend." She extended her hand for a shake.

The word shattered something in my chest, I found myself staring at Matt, who now goes by Mattie as I fought back tears, hoping he would correct her.

How could he not have mentioned that he was married?

"I–It is..." I shook my head, trying to get my words together, "Nice meeting you, Bridget." I took her hand.

"Beatrice..." She corrected immediately, "And you are?"

"Ariel," I answered.

"Well," Matt cleared his throat, reducing the tension in the air, "You came right in time for breakfast. Why don't you both get seated while I serve you?" Matt placed a kiss on her forehead and dashed to the kitchen.

With slow steps I found my way to a seat, trying to ground myself.

I could feel Beatrice's gaze boring into my skin but I didn't bother lifting my head.

The last thing I wanted was to have a conversation with the woman who was replacing me.

The woman who occupied his mind so much that he never noticed the skimpy dresses I wore, or the extra mascara I applied.

In a few minutes, Matt was out and had served everybody.

He took a seat beside Beatrice, his hand on top of hers.

As they talked, I couldn't hear what they were saying, because I was lost in my thoughts.

I watched as his eyes dwelt on hers as she spoke, his pupils tracing her lips, and the little smile that formed on his lips when she giggled.

I didn't hate that he was smiling, I hated that I hadn't seen it on his face in a while... that I wasn't the cause of it.

But if there was anyone I hated more, it was myself. For wanting more than the contract.

I was such a fool.

I took a bite from my meal, and then I heard her voice, and somehow it sounded as if she was referring to me.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, just to be certain.

"Your necklace," she repeated with that same smile, "it's very beautiful," she commented. "Matt, did you get that for her?"

Matt didn't answer immediately. His eyes shot at me, before he turned his gaze back to his woman, "It was a... parting gift."

"Oh, how generous." Beatrice rubbed her hands on Matt's arms but this time the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, "You must have been a very good tenant."

Tenant.

The word got stuck in my throat like something I was trying not to swallow.

I grabbed my fork, then dropped it, picked it up again, and told myself to breathe because if I didn't, I was going to fall apart at a dining table in front of a woman who was everything I wasn't.

Beatrice had already moved on with the convo she was having with Matt, laughing at something he'd said while her fingers traced invisible circles on his wrist.

Then Matt, my Matt, the man whose last name I had carried for five years even if only on paper, was laughing back.

"Excuse me," I said, to no one in particular because neither of them was paying attention.

I pushed back my chair slowly, as if I moved too fast I would shatter right there on the dining room floor.

I turned towards the stairs, taking them one step at a time, holding the rail so tight because my legs had decided they were no longer entirely reliable.

As I made it to the room, I shut the door behind me and then I remembered the necklace.

The stupid, beautiful necklace, began to feel less like jewelry and more like a hand wrapped around my throat.

A parting gift.

That was what he had called it. Not a gesture, not something that meant anything, not proof that the five years had been real in some small way.

A f*****g parting gift.

My fingers quickly found the clasp at the back of my neck as I tried to undo it calmly, as a normal, completely sane and emotionally controlled person would...

But my hands were shaking, and the clasp would not cooperate, and somewhere downstairs Beatrice laughed again at something, and I...

I could not do it... I could not be calm about this.

So I pulled.

The chain gave way with a snap, and I stood there holding it for one moment, a second rather, before I threw it across the room with everything I had.

It hit the mirror above the dresser and the glass cracked, and a web of cracks spread across revealing just how I felt inside.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. Then I lay back.

I pressed my face into the pillow and I let myself cry. It wasn't pretty. I wasn't trying to stay aware of my looks, as it didn't matter to anyone.

I had finally given up, and the only thing I could do was let it all out.

The sobs came harder and I let them, pushing my face deeper into the pillow because I did not want anyone to hear me.

I lost track of how long I lay there pouring my eyes out till there was none to shed and no sound to make.

And in that silence, I began to hear approaching footsteps. Not laughter, footsteps.

I sat up, bracing myself for whoever was coming up.

Then a knock came on the door. A knock so soft you could easily mistake it for anything.

"Ariel?"

Matt called softly, like he knew how fragile I was at the moment.

"Can I come in?"

I stared at the door for a long while, thinking he was joking and would turn and leave, but he didn't.

He just stood there...

With a deep sigh, I answered, "Yes, you can."