The life she never had
1299 Words
The taxi ride back home felt endless.
Esme sat in the back seat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. The city lights flashed past the window, but she didn’t see them. All she could see was Draven’s face leaning in… and the way his lips had touched the other woman’s like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her chest hurt every time she breathed.
She pressed her hand against it, trying to steady herself.
“…Maybe I misunderstood,” she whispered, though even she didn’t believe it.
The driver glanced at her through the mirror but said nothing.
When the car finally stopped in front of the house, Esme stepped out slowly. The familiar building looked cold and distant, like it no longer belonged to her.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Silence greeted her.
No welcome. No warmth. Just the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway.
She slipped off her shoes and walked toward the kitchen.
The food was still on the table.
Cold. Untouched.
The small birthday cake sat in the center, the frosting now slightly melted on one side.
Esme stared at it for a long time.
Then she pulled out a chair and sat down.
“…Happy birthday to me,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Her wolf stirred faintly inside her, brushing against her emotions. Sad. Angry. Hurt. But too weak to speak.
She rested her forehead against the table.
She didn’t know how long she stayed like that.
The sound of the front door opening made her sit up quickly.
Draven walked in as if nothing had happened, loosening his tie as he stepped into the living room. He smelled faintly of perfume that wasn’t hers.
He glanced toward the kitchen and paused when he saw her sitting there.
“You’re still up?” he asked casually.
Esme swallowed, her throat dry. “…You’re late.”
“I had work,” he replied, already walking past her.
Her fingers tightened on the edge of the table.
“I saw you,” she said quietly.
His steps stopped.
The silence that followed felt heavier than any scream.
Draven turned slowly, his expression darkening. “What did you just say?”
“I saw you,” she repeated, forcing herself to look at him. “At the restaurant.”
His eyes narrowed. “You were spying on me?”
“I wasn’t spying,” she said quickly. “I found out where you were. I just… went to see if it was true.”
His jaw tightened. “So you followed me like a crazy woman?”
“I just wanted to know the truth,” she whispered. “Who is she?”
The question hung in the air.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he scoffed. “You don’t need to know.”
Esme felt something inside her chest crack again.
“I’m your wife,” she said, her voice trembling. “Don’t I have the right to ask?”
Draven’s expression turned cold.
“You have the right to stay quiet and not embarrass me,” he snapped. “That’s all.”
The words hit harder than the slap she had received earlier.
“How long… have you been together?”
He slammed his hand against the table. The plates rattled loudly.
“You’re overthinking things again,” he growled. “Stop creating problems where there are none.”
“Then why did you kiss her?” Esme blurted.
The room fell silent.
Draven stared at her for a long moment, then laughed coldly.
“So what if I did?” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”
Her breath hitched.
“You… you’re admitting it?”
“I’m saying it’s none of your business,” he replied, stepping closer. “You should be grateful I still come home at all.”
Tears welled in Esme’s eyes despite her effort to hold them back.
“I cooked for you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I waited for you… it was my birthday…”
He glanced at the table and noticed the cake for the first time.
“…I didn’t ask you to do any of that,” he said indifferently.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“Do you even care about this family?” she whispered.
His expression hardened.
“Don’t start acting like a victim,” he snapped. “You’re nothing but a burden. A useless, ungrateful woman!”
“I…..”
Before she could react, his hand struck her cheek.
The sound echoed loudly in the quiet kitchen.
Esme stumbled slightly, gripping the edge of the chair to keep from falling.
“You’re getting too bold lately,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Questioning me, following me… do you think you have that kind of right?”
She pressed a trembling hand to her burning cheek, tears finally spilling down her face.
At that moment, small footsteps padded into the room.
“Dad?” Noah’s sleepy voice called.
Draven immediately stepped back, his expression shifting into something calmer.
“Go back to your room,” he said, his tone softer.
Noah rubbed his eyes and looked between them. “Why is Mom crying?”
Esme quickly wiped her tears, forcing a smile that felt like it might break her face.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” she said gently. “I just… got something in my eye.”
Noah frowned but nodded slowly. “Okay…”
He turned and walked back down the hallway.
The moment he disappeared, the tension returned.
Draven grabbed his phone and started walking away. “I don’t have time for your drama tonight.”
“…Where are you going?” Esme asked weakly.
He didn’t even turn around.
“To take a call from someone who actually matters.”
From the study, she heard his voice.
Low. Soft. Intimate.
She didn’t mean to listen. But her feet carried her closer.
“…I miss you,” he murmured.
Her breath caught.
A woman’s laughter drifted faintly through the speaker. “…I miss you too.”
“I have a hard on just thinking about it,” he continued, voice dropping. “That red dress…. you looked irresistible.”
Esme’s fingers dug into the wall.
“…Then I’ll wear the red set when you’re coming,” the woman teased. “The one you bought me.”
Draven chuckled. “Good. I want to see it on you… and then take it off myself.”
Esme felt like the ground had vanished beneath her feet.
“…I can’t wait to feel you again,” the woman whispered.
“That’s my girl,” he said, his tone thick with satisfaction. “Be ready for me tomorrow.”
Esme stepped back as if burned.
Her husband… was planning another night with her.
Esme turned and sank onto the couch, her cheek burning, her chest aching as sobs tore out of her.
“How did we get here…” she whispered.
Noah’s small footsteps echoed in the hallway.
“Mom?” he asked quietly.
She wiped her tears quickly. “Dad told you to sleep,”
“I want to stay with you,” He climbed beside her and leaned against her arm. “You look sad. Do you want to watch the cat video again?”
Her lips trembled into a fragile smile.
“…Okay,” she said.
The television flickered to life, filled with cheerful music and silly noises.
Noah laughed.
Esme stared at the screen, but she couldn’t see anything through the blur of her tears.
For the first time, she understood something she had been too afraid to admit before.
Her husband didn’t just love another woman.
He hated her.
- Writer
