Chapter Two: The Betraying Husband
1048 Words
At nine o’clock the next morning, when Serena woke, the space beside her was empty. The sheets still held the warmth of his body, but he was already gone.
She touched her lips. They were still slightly swollen from being kissed over and over the night before. The side of her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders — everywhere bore the marks he had left. She turned over and buried her face in his pillow, drawing a deep breath. Then her hand slid down to her lower belly once more.
“Come,” she whispered. “This time, please, come.”
She was still wrapped in that quiet happiness when the bedroom door was flung open.
“Serena Blackwell!” Eleanor stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “Nine o’clock already. Don’t you know that laziness and lack of exercise make it impossible to conceive? Get up!”
Serena practically shot out of bed. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I didn’t sleep well last night —”
“Listen.” Eleanor’s voice was sharp as a blade. She stepped closer and looked down at Serena. “I’m giving you one more year. One year. If there’s still no result, even if Dominic says nothing, I will make you leave this house. You never belonged here in the first place.”
She turned and walked away. Her footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one like a stamp on Serena’s chest.
Serena sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the edge of the duvet. She drew a deep breath and let go. She was used to it — three years of this kind of talk. Bear it a little longer. Once she was pregnant, everything would change. Everything would change.
At the gym, her friend Mia had already finished a five-kilometre run. The moment she saw Serena walk in, she jumped off the treadmill and hurried over.
“Are you okay?”
The opening threw Serena. “What do you mean?”
“Dominic — did he come home yesterday?” Mia bit her lip, her expression complicated.
“Yes, he did. Why?” Serena couldn’t quite grasp what Mia was getting at.
Mia opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end nothing came out. The evening before, she and her boyfriend had gone to see a film. At the entrance to the VIP screening, she had seen Dominic Ashford with a woman, holding hands. The woman was not Serena. Mia had spent the entire night wrestling with whether to say anything. She desperately wanted to tell her best friend, but she was afraid of destroying someone’s family. Looking at Serena’s face, and thinking of the home she might break apart, in the end she kept silent.
“Nothing,” Mia forced a smile. “It’s just… your husband is so handsome, so outstanding. You should keep a closer eye on him when he’s out.”
Serena smiled. She didn’t press, but she had a rough idea of what Mia meant. Dominic Ashford was indeed a remarkable man. In recent months he had been coming home less and less often, and each time he did, messages would come in late at night. He said it was work. But she chose to believe him. After all, it had been three years. She had put everything into him, held nothing back. She chose to trust him completely.
Two days later.
Serena spent an entire afternoon preparing a Christmas surprise for Dominic: a pair of handmade leather shoes, a cashmere scarf, gloves he liked, and even a bottle of the cologne he always used that was nearly empty. She deliberately kept it from him, telling him she was going to visit her mother and would be back the next day, all so she could give him a surprise.
When she returned to the manor clutching all these things, it was already ten at night. She looked up — the lights in the house were still on. Her heart began to race. Could it be that Dominic knew she was preparing a surprise and had stayed up waiting for her?
She lightened her footsteps, the corners of her mouth already beginning to lift. Her hand reached for the door handle — and then she heard it.
A woman’s voice, sweet and slightly nasal, as if coquettish: “Dominic, will she really sign?”
Dominic’s calm voice came through: “Yes. She will sign.”
Serena’s hand froze in mid-air. She didn’t know who the woman was, but instinct told her this was the worst possible scenario.
“I’m sorry… I never meant to ruin your marriage. I just love you too much.” The woman was crying, her voice sweet and soft and innocent.
“I know. It’s not your fault, Vivian.”
Serena felt her heart shatter. An invisible weight pressed down on her, stealing her breath, robbing her of every ounce of strength. With a thud, the shopping bags fell from her hand.
The noise alerted the people inside. The door opened from within.
Dominic stood in the doorway. His suit jacket was off, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, his tie loosened. Behind him stood a woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, with softly curled long hair, delicate features and a tall, slender figure. Her fingers rested on Dominic’s arm; her nails were perfectly done in a nude pink. Her eyes were red, but exactly the right shade of red, and she was biting her lower lip just so.
Serena had never seen this woman before.
“You —”
Her voice caught. She didn’t scream or shout, but a fire blazed inside her chest, and she felt as if she were suffocating. She had silently endured so much for him, only to be repaid with him bringing a woman home.
Dominic stepped out. He looked at Serena with a complicated expression, but he offered no explanation. He simply lifted his hand — the hand holding a pen and a sheet of paper.
Serena saw the words at the top: Divorce Agreement.
“Just sign it,” Dominic said, in that same calm and gentle voice, but this time it struck Serena as ice-cold.
“We’re getting a divorce.”
- Writer
