After Divorce: No Second Chances

Chapter 3.1

Scarlett glanced at the clock, her chest tightening with impatience. It was late, yet Elijah still hadn’t come home. Lately, his returns had become increasingly irregular—sometimes arriving only at dawn, leaving her to wonder what kept him out so late. Her thoughts swirled with unease, anticipation, and the sting of repeated neglect.

The sound of the front door opening made her heart skip a beat. She wanted to greet him, to rush into his arms, but instead, she froze in place. The unmistakable scent of alcohol clung to him, heavy and sharp. Elijah entered the room, carrying the things he had brought, but Scarlett didn’t take them. A frown tugged at her lips as she tried to compose herself, the ache of worry settling over her.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been coming home late, more and more, sometimes even at dawn. What exactly have you been doing?” Scarlett asked, her voice steady despite the unease creeping into her tone.

Elijah smiled faintly, lowering the items onto the sofa. He approached her slowly, and when his hand brushed her cheek, Scarlett swallowed hard. Her pulse quickened under his touch.

“Jealous already?” he asked softly, the warmth in his tone a stark contrast to the cold, distant man she often knew.

Scarlett frowned, trying to read his expression. He was unpredictable, sometimes distant, sometimes unexpectedly tender. Her next question came out almost too boldly.

“I’m just asking… do you have someone else?”

Elijah’s smile deepened. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, erasing the doubt that had gripped her moments before. Scarlett’s body relaxed against his, her uncertainty dissolving under the certainty of his kiss.

His tongue teased hers gently, mingling with hers in a dance that had become achingly familiar. One hand roamed, tracing the curve of her breast, and Scarlett, instead of recoiling, welcomed his touch. She let him lead her into their bedroom, the heat between them reigniting a passion long dormant.

Scarlett’s sighs and murmurs filled the room as Elijah’s skillful hands and intimate movements worked magic on her senses. Her nails dug into his back while her body responded instinctively, her lips finding his neck, leaving marks of their shared desire.

“You never fail to please me,” Elijah murmured against her skin, voice husky with longing. Scarlett, flushed and breathless, smiled softly. Minutes passed in an intimate blur. Eventually, he guided her onto the bed, movements growing more urgent and unrestrained, until both were spent, bodies entwined in exhaustion and satisfaction.

As Elijah collapsed beside her, his warm presence comforting, Scarlett studied his sleeping form, feeling a pang of contentment. “Love,” she whispered, caressing his face, but seeing him already deep in sleep with the faint sound of snores, she simply smiled and held him close, letting sleep claim her as well.

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Meanwhile, across the city, Camila was waiting for her chance with Elijah. The moment she saw him, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips, her playful declaration leaving him smirking.

“You haven’t come to my condo, I’m sulking,” she teased, pouting.

Elijah returned the kiss, keeping one hand gently on her waist. “We can’t let Scarlett find out,” he replied, eyes darting briefly to ensure secrecy. Camila noticed the fresh kiss mark on his neck—he hadn’t needed to explain, she knew he hadn’t been with her before.

“Did you… have s*x with your wife?” she asked, a mix of curiosity and jealousy in her tone.

Elijah’s hand rested lightly on her neck, a quiet assertion of intimacy. “It was necessary, Camila. She doubted me—suspecting I had another woman. I needed to reassure her,” he explained, calm and authoritative.

Camila’s lips puckered, feigning offense, though her body betrayed her excitement. She crossed her arms over her chest, a playful, childish gesture. “I thought I was the one who should make you happy in bed. Why her?”

Elijah leaned in, kissing her again, one hand slipping under her short skirt. She moaned softly, unable to resist, her body responding eagerly to his touch.

“You’re still my favorite in bed,” he murmured, lips trailing along hers. Camila’s impatient whisper followed.

“When will you leave her? How long must I wait?”

“A little longer,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes, and the kiss deepened once more.

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A month later, Scarlett awoke abruptly, clutching her stomach. Nausea surged through her body, and she bolted for the bathroom, retching violently. Elijah stirred, groaning in confusion.

“Scarlett, it’s so early… what’s wrong?” he grumbled, still half-asleep.

“I’m sorry, love… I just don’t feel well,” she said, flushing with discomfort.

“Don’t bother me while I’m sleeping. Go to the hospital if it’s that bad,” he muttered, returning to his slumber. Scarlett, undeterred, exited the bathroom once the worst had passed. Her maid was cooking, the aroma of garlic and onions filling the kitchen, and yet another wave of nausea hit her, forcing her to vomit into the sink.

“You okay, dear?” the maid asked with gentle concern.

“I’m fine… probably just something I ate last night,” Scarlett answered, trying to maintain composure. Her heart skipped when the maid added, “Why not get checked? Maybe… you’re pregnant, that’s why you’re vomiting.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, and a thrill ran through her. “Me? Pregnant?” she whispered, excitement bubbling within her. The idea that she could carry Elijah’s child made her pulse race. Her fatigue and sickness now felt almost bearable, tinged with a strange surge of energy and hope.

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Days passed, and Scarlett’s anticipation for their wedding anniversary grew. She meticulously prepared a romantic dinner, carefully arranging candles and selecting the perfect wine. Her satin nightdress shimmered in the soft light, reflecting her desire to entice Elijah and reclaim the intimacy they had been missing.

Hours passed, and still, Elijah had not returned. Messages went unanswered; calls left unreturned. Finally, Scarlett’s eyes fell on her phone, where an i********: notification glimmered on the screen:

[Thank you for joining me to celebrate my birthday.] — Camila

Scarlett’s chest tightened, a bitter smile tugging at her lips as she realized her husband had attended Camila’s event instead of coming home to celebrate their anniversary. Her heart felt as if it were pricked by tiny needles.

Had Elijah forgotten? Or did he simply not care? The ultrasound picture she held trembled in her hands, a silent testament to the life growing within her—a life she had hoped would mark a new chapter for their family.

Bittersweet tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at the image, trying to reconcile the joy of new life with the loneliness of her husband’s absence. Her heart ached with longing, betrayal, and hope, all entwined in a painful, complex knot.

Scarlett sat there, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows, her mind racing with unanswered questions and impossible “what-ifs.” She had prepared everything, dreamed of an intimate night, yet reality had refused to align with her wishes. She hugged the ultrasound picture tightly to her chest, allowing herself one private moment of sorrow mixed with anticipation.

Somewhere out there, Elijah was wrapped in someone else’s arms, while she waited alone, her heart clinging to the possibility of the life growing inside her—a fragile hope that perhaps, one day, love and loyalty would find their way back to her.