ANIKA’S POV
“What!”
He said like he could not believe what I was saying, which to his credit was totally understandable. He must never have thought that in his wildest dreams would I even insist on a divorce.
Unfortunately for him, I was no longer the person that I was before…now, I couldn't care less about him.
Simon was staring at me like I had just announced the sky was green, like I had just made some absurd statement.
He probably thought I was insane.
Besides, I was the Anika who loved him so much that it was pathetic.
The same girl who used to follow him around like a sick puppy.
The same girl who begged him to marry her.
The same girl who tolerated every insult, every humiliation, every late night he never explained.
That same girl was now asking him for a divorce.
I could practically see the disbelief spinning inside his head.
I watched his face carefully.
Just observing.
Because I knew exactly what he expected.
He was waiting for me to take it back.
To laugh and say I was joking.
To apologize.
To say I was being irrational.
I was supposed to beg for his forgiveness like always.
But I didn’t.
Instead I just stood there with my hands folded, staring him right in the eyes like I had just stated a fact as simple as the weather.
“You can’t be serious Anika,” he said.
I hissed before I could stop myself.
“I am dead serious Simon. I can’t keep doing this with you.”
The room went still.
Something dark flickered across his face.
He moved toward me suddenly and grabbed both my arms.
Hard.
His fingers dug painfully into my skin.
I felt like he might as well be foaming at the mouth.
“What are you even talking about Anika?” he demanded. “You are my wife.”
My arms throbbed under his grip.
I struggled against him.
“Let go of me Simon you are hurting me.”
He didn’t.
So I yanked my arms back as hard as I could until they slipped free.
My skin stung where his fingers had been, I massaged it tenderly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked.
He began pacing around the room like a trapped animal.
“You are seriously acting out right now,” he muttered. “Is it because of something so trivial that you are doing this?”
For a second I thought I had heard him wrong.
Trivial.
The word kept on repeating inside of my head like some cruel tune that would probably haunt me for eternity.
I scoffed, my eyes blazing.
I pointed at myself.
“I lost our child Simon,” I said, my voice shaking with disbelief. “I had a f*****g miscarriage and you call it trivial?”
The silence after that felt heavy.
I thought that he would at least feel a bit of remorse, even though it was fake. But he didn’t know sadness, no guilt, nothing.
He just looked… irritated.
Then suddenly he grabbed both my hands.
“If it is about the baby you don’t have to worry,” he said calmly, “we can always make more.”
Before I could even process the words he leaned forward and pressed his lips onto mine.
My body froze.
I tried to move, but it was like my body refused to cooperate with me. A lot of feelings were running through me at the same time.
Disgust.
Anger.
Everything exploded at once.
I tried to push him away but he only kissed me deeper, like he thought I was playing some stupid game.
Like I was playing hard to get.
My teeth sank into his lip without warning.
He pulled back abruptly.
His hand went to his mouth.
He wiped his lip with his index finger and glared at me.
“You…”
Before he could even finish that sentence my hand moved.
The slap echoed loudly in the room.
His head snapped to the side.
For a moment neither of us moved.
I could hear his ears ringing.
Mine too.
“Why the f**k did you slap me?” he demanded.
My chest was heaving and my eyes burned with unshed tears.
“You disgust me,” I said.
My words were sharp, and I meant them.
The hatred in my voice surprised even me.
Simon stared at me like he couldn’t recognize the woman standing in front of him.
“You don’t even care that our son is no more,” I continued. “How shameless can you be?”
He folded his arms like none of this mattered.
“I just want to spend some time with my wife,” he said. “I don’t see the problem with that.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You are ridiculous. You don’t even want me. Go to Bree.”
The moment the name left my mouth he paused.
He shot me a coy smile like he had figured something out, some missing piece of the puzzle.
“So this is what it is about, you’re jealous of Bree?”
I did not reply to that.
“She is your little sister Anika, don’t be childish.”
Still silence.
He actually thought I was jealous of my little sister.
He could do whatever he wanted, at this point I could care less. I wanted nothing to do with him, the fact that I asked for a divorce should have made it clear enough.
He smirked at me.
“You said it yourself… don’t come bitching about it later.”
Then he grabbed his keys and walked straight out the door.
I didn’t stop him, just stood and watched him leave.
The house fell silent.
I stood there for a long time staring at the door.
I was waiting to feel thee disappointment, but that hollow feeling just settles itself in my chest again.
Later that night I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling when my phone buzzed.
Once.
I ignored it.
Twice.
Three times.
I frowned and reached for it.
A message from Bree.
Of course.
My stomach twisted as I opened it.
The first image loaded slowly.
Then the second.
Then the third.
My breath caught.
Bree was half naked in bed.
Her hair messy against the pillow.
Sheets barely covering her body.
And beside her…
Simon.
My husband.
Sleeping peacefully like nothing in the world was wrong.
That was not the issue though, it was that glowing red hickey hat rested on her neck, visible, glaring at me.
My fingers began to tremble.
Another message popped up beneath the photos.
Bree: Guess where your husband is tonight?