SCANDAL OF THE CENTURY: I MARRIED MY EX’S DAD

CHAPTER ONE — THE BETRAYAL Amara’s POV “Yeah, I’m already back in Houston,” I said, pressing my phone between my ear and shoulder as I carried my handbag and cake box into the house. “The Dallas conference got canceled last minute. Guess who gets to surprise her husband for once?” “Ha! You?” Kendra laughed from the other end. “You never do surprises, Amara. What’s gotten into you?” “I don’t know,” I chuckled softly, setting my keys on the marble console. “Maybe I’m trying to be... I don’t know... a better wife? Joel’s been so distant lately, maybe this’ll make him smile.” Kendra hummed skeptically. “Well, he’d better appreciate it. If not, call me,I’ll drive down there and throw that cake in his face myself.” I laughed. “Don’t tempt me. You’d actually do it.” “Damn right, I would.” I grinned, walking farther into the house. “Okay, I’ll call you later. I just walked in.” The moment I hung up, silence settled around me, thick, strange, unsettling. Normally, Joel would have music playing in his study or sports murmuring from the TV. But tonight, the house was too still. “Joel?” I called softly, walking past the living room. “Honey, you home?” No answer. Then I noticed it, a trail of clothes scattered across the polished wooden floor. A black jacket. A woman’s silk scarf. Joel’s tie. My smile faltered. “What the hell…” I followed the trail, my pulse quickening, my hand tightening around the cake box. Each step made the air heavier. Upstairs, faint laughter floated down the hallway — low and breathy. A woman’s voice. Mimi Lopez. My stomach dropped. That voice was burned into my memory from countless business dinners. Joel’s business partner. Pretty. Sharp. And now, laughing in my house. My hand trembled as I reached for the bedroom door. My heart screamed at me to turn back, but something crueler — curiosity, pride — pushed me forward. The door creaked open. And there it was. Joel was in bed, tangled in sheets and limbs that weren’t mine. Mimi’s head was thrown back in lazy satisfaction, her bare shoulder glinting in the lamplight. The cake slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. For a second, no one moved. Then Mimi looked over her shoulder, a slow smirk spreading across her lips. “Well,” she purred, “looks like the little wife came home early.” “Amara—” Joel’s face went pale. He scrambled off the bed, dragging the sheet around his waist. “It’s not what it looks like.” “Not what it looks like?” I repeated, laughing bitterly. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Amara, please, just let me explain—” “Explain what, Joel?” I snapped. “That your business partner somehow tripped and fell into your bed? Or that the meeting you’ve been too busy for was actually a quickie in our bedroom?” Mimi rolled her eyes, lounging against the headboard as if she owned the place. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Amara. You make it sound like you actually loved him.” My head snapped toward her. “You shut your mouth before I shut it for you.” Her smirk only widened. “Touchy, aren’t we?” Joel stepped between us. “Amara, calm down—” “Calm down?” I hissed. “You think I’m going to calm down after walking in on this?” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” “This way?” I laughed, sharp, humorless. “Oh, so there was a better way for me to find out my husband is a cheating bastard?” Mimi scoffed. “Maybe if you weren’t so uptight all the time—” I didn’t let her finish. My hand flew before I could think, the slap cracked through the room. Joel’s head jerked to the side, a red mark blooming on his cheek. “That,” I said through clenched teeth, “was for lying to me. And that—” I yanked off my wedding ring and threw it at him, “—is for wasting my time.” He caught his breath, his expression shifting from shock to something crueler. He laughed — a dry, ugly sound. “You’re really something, Amara,” he sneered. “You want to play the victim now? Don’t forget who came to me first. You’re the one who begged for this marriage. You’re the one who wanted to make your family ashamed. Remember?” My heart lurched. “What did you just say?” He smirked. “Oh, don’t act innocent. You thought marrying me — the son of the man your brothers hate — would make them lose their minds. You just wanted to prove a point, Amara. You’re nothing but a spoiled little rich girl trying to play rebel.” I stared at him, speechless. The secret I’d guarded so tightly, the truth I thought he’d never uncovered, he knew. “You knew who I was,” I whispered. “I knew everything, you're just a lousy girl trying to make her unreal rich family angry.” For a moment I felt relieved,at least he didn't know exactly who I was. I felt something inside me snap — the final thread of restraint. “I never used you,” I said, voice trembling with fury. “I loved you. God help me, I actually loved you. But now I see what you are — a coward. A boy hiding behind his father’s shadow, too weak to be half the man he pretends to be.” Mimi chuckled from the bed. “Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.” I turned on her, eyes blazing. “You can have him. Both of you can rot together for all I care.” Joel’s smirk faltered, replaced with something darker. “You’ll regret this, Amara.” “Regret?” I laughed bitterly. “The only thing I regret is wasting a year on a man who isn’t worth my mascara.” I turned for the door, but Joel’s voice followed me — venomous. “Don’t walk out like you’re the victim. You’re a pick me, Amara. You picked me to help me spite my father. You picked this life to look brave. Now you can pick up the pieces on your own.” That did it. I spun around and glared at him, my voice low and shaking. “You’re right, Joel. I picked you. And tonight, I’m choosing to leave you.” Then I was gone. I ran down the stairs, vision blurred by tears. My heart pounded so loud it drowned out the rain outside. The storm had worsened, wind howling through the trees. By the time I got to the car, I was soaked, but I didn’t care. I slammed the door, gripped the steering wheel, and screamed until my throat burned. “How could you be so stupid, Amara?” I muttered to myself, wiping my tears. “You married him to prove a damn point.” My phone buzzed — Kendra again. I answered with shaking hands. “Amara? What’s wrong? You sound—” “He cheated,” I said flatly. Silence. Then, “That bastard. Are you serious?” I laughed bitterly. “Dead serious. I just walked in on him with Mimi Lopez. In our bed.” “Oh my God, Amara—” “I’m fine,” I interrupted, though my voice cracked. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here.” “Do you want me to come over?” “No. I need space.” I swallowed hard, the taste of betrayal thick in my mouth. “I’m done, Kendra. I’m filing for divorce first thing tomorrow.” When I reached my apartment downtown, I stood under the shower for nearly an hour, scrubbing until my skin turned red. No amount of soap could wash away the memory of what I’d seen — of how small I’d felt standing there. By morning, the decision was final. I walked into the courthouse dressed in black, my hair tied back, sunglasses shielding my swollen eyes. The photographers were already waiting outside — hungry vultures smelling blood. Flash after flash, their voices echoed: “Mrs. Anderson, is it true your husband cheated?” “Amara, will you forgive him?” “Who was the other woman?” “Hello, you must be Amara.” I heard a deep voice from behind me. “Yeah,and you are?” I asked. I looked at him,he looked so handsome and tall, everything was good in the eyes. “Tristan Anderson. Joel's father.” He replied and I gasped. “What are you doing here?” I asked,not interested in having anything to do with him and his son. “Since he couldn't make it,the lawyer called me and that's why I'm here.” “Well we're getting a divorce and I don't plan on seeing him anymore. You can relate that to him.” “He doesn't know what he just missed.” I heard him whisper. I said nothing. I signed the papers and walked out without looking back. The headline hit the gossip columns within hours: “Anderson’s Wife Files for Divorce — Alone and Unapologetic.” I stood by the window of my apartment, coffee in hand, watching the city come alive beneath a gray sky. My world had collapsed overnight — but somehow, deep down, there was peace in the wreckage. For the first time in years, I wasn’t pretending. I wasn’t anyone’s wife, anyone’s pawn. Just Amara.