Revenge On My Ex Husband

Chapter 2

The Stranger

Lora’s POV

Silence swallowed me. I stayed on the floor of what had been my home, surrounded by shattered dishes and broken dreams, pieces too small to ever put back together. The divorce papers were scattered around me. My shaking hands gathered them, holding them to my chest as though they were the only solid thing left. Tears blurred the ink until the words began to fade.

I couldn’t stay. Not in this home, not in this life. My legs felt heavy as I rose, each step toward the door a struggle. I stepped into the darkness, leaving the door wide open. Let them ransack it. Let it burn. What did it matter anymore?

The street was deserted, lit only by flickering yellow lamps. My legs moved on instinct, carrying me forward with no direction. A dog barked in the distance. A car alarm blared, then stopped.

A buzzing in my pocket broke my thoughts. My phone.

St. Mary’s Hospital.

My mother.

A cold, hollow weight settled in my chest.

“Miss , apologies for calling,” the nurse said, voice polite but tense. “Your mother had another incident tonight, more severe than usual. We’ve stabilized her.”

“How is she now?” I asked, my voice flat. “I’ll settle it this week. I promise.”

“The payment is required immediately—”

“I understand what she needs!” I snapped, desperate. “Do you think I don’t understand?”

Silence. Heavy. Judging.

“I’ll…come up with something,” I lied, tasting acid on my tongue.

I hung up, knowing there was nothing to find. No money, no solution, no miracle.

I had never known my father; he had vanished before I was born, leaving emptiness and unanswered questions. My mother had been my world—the only person who had ever truly cared. And now she was slipping away, and I had nothing left to give.

I’m sorry, Mom.

The words weighed on me like stones. Without thinking, I started walking straight to the bar at the far end of the street.

The bitter sting of alcohol burned my throat as I gulped down another bottle. I needed it, needed to numb myself before the weight of guilt over my mother crushed me completely. Tears blurred my vision with each swallow, each drop a reminder of the pain I couldn’t escape. Life felt unbearably cruel. I couldn’t help but wonder if my very existence was a mistake.

I was reaching for the tenth bottle when someone’s hand stopped me. The sudden touch made me freeze.

“Who are you? Why—” My words caught in my throat as something warm brushed against my lips. A scent, intoxicating and familiar, filled my senses, and for a moment I forgot myself completely.

His hands moved to my waist, and my body moved closer to his.

His lips tasted like strawberries, and his abs against my boobs felt like heaven.

He pulled me closer, this time, leaving no space between us. Then, his hands cupped like left boobs. And softly, like our lives depended on it, he whispered to my ears ‘Do you want me to stop? Or can I take you to my room?’

‘Your room.’ The words came out of my mouth, without thinking about the consequences.

He picked me up, wrapped my legs around his waist and continued kissing me while he carried me up the staircase to his room.

Once we got into the room, he yanked off my top, and without taking his eyes off me, his mouth went on my n*****s. And his middle left finger went right into my p***y.

‘Ouuhh’ A soft moan escaped my lips.

Like a pro, his middle finger went in and out of my p***y while his lips continued to work magic on my n*****s.

My moans grew louder.

He didn’t stop. Two fingers, then three. Every stroke, every press, every kiss detached me from the weight of my despair. I wanted to scream, to beg, but his voice cut through my fog.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ He asked, his right hand replacing his lips on my boobs.

‘No!’ I managed to say.

And without hesitation, he entered me fully, and the world outside vanished. The heartbreak, the guilt, the fear—they all disappeared into the cloud of lust and desires. I forgot everything but the heat of him, the slick pull of our bodies together, the intoxicating taste of abandon.

By the time I finally collapsed into sleep, my chest heaving and hair tangled, I had traded the pain of reality for this fleeting, burning escape.

The next morning, a sharp headache jolted me awake. Sunlight stabbed through the blinds, and I squinted against it, disoriented. My body ached in places I didn’t even know could ache, and my clothes were tangled around me.

I sat up slowly, my fingers grazing the sheets, trying to piece together the fragments of the night. My head throbbed, my stomach twisted, not just from the alcohol, but from the weight of what had happened last night.

I scrambled out of bed, heart pounding, searching for a place to hide—or a way out. My hands shook as I fumbled with the doorknob. One last glance at the man I had spent the last night with, then I ran out of the room. Afraid that, if he wakes up before I leave the room, he would taunt me about the previous night and with hopes that he would forget we ever met.

The hospital was my next stop. I needed to see my mother, even if I couldn’t be there financially, I would still show up.

The hospital smelled sterile and sharp, a reminder of all the chaos in my life. I found her in Room 412, asleep, tubes in place, monitors beeping softly. Her face looked pale, frail, and for a moment, the fear clawed at my chest like a living thing.

“Mom…” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

She stirred slightly, murmuring, and I took her hand in mine. The warmth was faint, but it grounded me. I sat with her all morning, watching the rhythm of her chest rise and fall, praying silently that she would make it. For her, I could survive anything….anything but the knowledge that I might not be able to.

Two weeks later, the memory of the stranger from the bar began to fade, but was replaced by a strange unease. An unease that made my stomach churn, nausea washing over me like a tide that wouldn’t relent. My head spun, and I shivered despite the warmth of my apartment. At first, I blamed the stress, the lingering alcohol, or even a stomach bug, but deep down, I knew.

I knew something had changed.

Something new was probably growing inside me.

And the thought of that made my chest tighten with a mixture of fear and disbelief.