Mr CEO, I Don't Want You Back

Chloe's Pov A soft moan echoed in the living room the second I walked in. A sigh escaped me and I shut the door behind me. My heels clicked shakily against the marble floor. I paddled to the kitchen and set my bag on the kitchen counter. The moans echoed again, sending a shiver down my spine. He was at it again. I whipped out my airpod from my blazer pocket and put them on to drown out the noise. It always works when the volume is high and the music is Rock. I took out the bottle of Rosé I’d imported from Italy and poured myself a glass. The sweet strawberry taste ran down my tongue and I closed my eyes to enjoy it. It tasted more bitter than sweet. My bottom lip trembled and a sob clawed through my throat. How could he do this to me? After all these years, he still chose other women. Where?! Where did it all go wrong?! My phone lit up with a message from my sister. Courtney : Hey, sis. How's your anniversary dinner going? My eyes trailed upstairs before it fell on my phone. I picked it up with shaky hands and replied. Chloe : You bet. We're at home right now. Brandon made a surprise for me. *Wink emoji* “Ah, yes! Brandon!” The soft female moan turned into a scream and my knees buckled. I slumped to the floor and clamped my hand over my mouth. Just when I thought it would all end, my hopes came crashing down and my tears never stopped falling. The first time it happened, I ignored it. That night, I had spent all night preparing Brandon's favourite — Fish and Chips. He used to tell me how he missed London and how often he'd want to visit so I wanted to do something special for him. I was allergic to fish yet each time he craved it, I'd head to the farmer’s market and buy all the ingredients I needed and prepare it. By the time I was done, my skin had turned a hideous shade of red but it was nothing. I'd do anything for Brandon. I did everything for him. He was my husband and I loved him. I remember setting up the dinner table — the marble floor polished, the air heavy with the scent of roses, the red candles lit, the food ready and served hot. I remember sitting by the dining table, waiting and waiting. 30 minutes turned into an hour and an hour into two. 33 missed calls and 10 messages later, Brandon came home. But he wasn't alone. A leggy blonde in a red, sultry dress wrapped around her body like a second skin, clung to his hip. Her arm was hooped around his and she laughed at something he said. I rose to my feet, failing to understand what was unfolding before me. “B - Brandon?” I spoke softly. “Who's that?” The blonde helping him across the living room asked, not sparing me a second glance. Brandon slurred. “That's… my wife.” “Your wife? I thought she was your mother.” The blonde giggled. He responded with one of his own. “I know, right? I've always told her to wear appealing clothes and not dress like she's in her 50’s.” “Oops. She might be 50 after all.” She laughed. I watched them disappear upstairs. I wanted to say something but the words died in my tongue each time I tried to say them. My fingers trembled at my side as I stared into space. What is going on? Who was that woman and why did Brandon not acknowledge me at all? I tightened my fists, wanting to storm towards our bedroom but the blonde showed up in my face wearing my pink robe. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes hooded but she couldn't stop grinning. She was flat-out drunk. “Hey,” I approached her carefully. “Where is Brandon?” “He's had his bath and is out like a light.” She smiled. “Okay. Thank you.” I sidestepped her only for her to grip my arm. “I don't think you should. He's tired.” She smiled sweetly. My brows are knitted. “Who are you again?” “Clara,” she extended her hand. “Clara Dao. I'm his PR analyst.” “Oh,” I nodded briefly. “Alright then. I guess the dinner was a handful.” “Indeed it was. You should've seen Brandy. He was adorable.” She gushed on about my husband like I wasn't his wife. And Brandy? Where did that nickname come from? “Clara!” I heard a low voice call from the bedroom. Brandon. I moved on instinct but Clara was faster. “Coming!” She called back and skipped out of the room while I stood there wondering what just happened. A few days later, I met Anna. Then I met Suzy. The following week, Brandon brought a secretary home — Lana. That one was quite a handful and clung to my husband like she was a balloon and he was the freaking air. I'd given Brandon an out multiple times. I'd given a chance to explain himself : Who were these women and why was he bringing them home? What's his relationship with them? Does he not love me anymore? A voice whispered in the back of my head that I knew the answer but I chose to ignore it. And now, I wish I never did. I was fed up with everything the day we were invited to the Annual Technology and Entrepreneur Award Ceremony. To all of New City and the Country Club, we were the “Lovely Darlington’s”. The best entrepreneur couple in the whole of the USA. What everyone saw was this perfect couple who held hands while receiving awards, kissed and professed their love to each other in public. But what no one saw were the screams in the limousine, the women Brandon brought home, and the pain of knowing that I couldn't do anything about it. Brandon and I stood before the crowded room, his arm draped around my waist. I used to love it when he touched me. Now, I feel disgusted. “Wow. I’ve never been this happy since my wedding day” Brandon said with a smile as he helped up the award. “Chloe and I want to say that we love and appreciate each and anyone of you for choosing us as your Entrepreneurs of the Year for the 4th time in a role. Thank you all so much.” The hall erupted in cheers and applause. And we both smiled like we were happy. The second we climbed off the stage, Brandon shoved my hand aside. “Next time, don't touch me without my permission.” he hissed. I could only nod at his reply. Speaking to him has never worked. It never will. I floated around the room accepting congratulations from friends and colleagues. I held my smile till my cheeks hurt and toasted wine till my stomach couldn't take anymore. By the time the event came to an end, I was exhausted. It was time for me to head home. But I had to find Brandon first. I scanned the room for a dark hair and white suit and couldn't find him. I took a detour through the garden. And that's where I saw him. I should've been used to it by now. After all, it's been 3 years. But at that moment, my stomach lurched. Pinned against the wall was my sister, Courtney and the man looming over her was my husband. They didn't notice my presence. If they did, they didn't care because they were all over each other. With tears streaming down my face, I clutched my purse and walked away. Pete had already brought the car around. I got into the backseat without a word. “Is Mr. Darlington on his way?” He asked, his hands on the steering wheel. “No. Get me out of here.” I whispered. The engine revved to life and the car moved. Even as we drove through the city, the tears wouldn't stop falling. Of all people he could be with…. Brandon… How could you? My phone buzzed and I took it out of my purse — Ayana. I wiped my cheeks and swiped right. “Hey, girl.” She froze. “Are you okay?” The horror that unfolded before me a few minutes flashed through my mind and I sobbed. “No.” “Brandon did it again, didn't he?” She sighed. “Yeah.” “Give him the papers tonight.” “Okay.” “Chloe, you better do it.” I found a new strength in her stern voice and I nodded. “I will.” “Good. That asshole doesn't deserve you. Not in a million years.” The dial tone clicked and I looked out the window. I was going to divorce Brandon once and for all.