A Sea of Bitter Regrets

I pulled on a bathrobe and tossed the divorce papers in George Martins' front.

"I just wanted to test your theory. Physical and emotional needs being separate."

I smirked slightly.

"Turns out, it feels amazing. I don't need you anymore."

"Clara!"

He shouted my name, his voice laced with raw irritation.

"You acted like a psycho for two years to force my hand. Now I’ve cut ties with her, and you’re carrying my child. You're bringing up divorce now?"

My fingers trembled around the pen. My composure shattered.

"You have no right to lecture me!

"Out of all the women in the world, you slept with my father's illegitimate daughter! You knew her mother destroyed my family and drove my mom to take her own life.

“Yet you still crawled into her bed on our wedding day!"

George paused. He ignored my words and grit his teeth.

"Who touched you?"

"You don't need to know. It's only fair this way."

Five years ago, I lost my first pregnancy to the shock of his infidelity. I went mad trying to find out who the other woman was.

George watched me fall apart in silence. He protected her identity so fiercely that I couldn't even learn her name.

It wasn't until the anniversary of my lost child that my illegitimate half-sister, Maya Mercer, sent me her positive ultrasound.

That was when I learned the truth.

He slept with my half-sister.

George let out a cold, sharp laugh.

"Not going to talk? Fine. We'll do this my way."

He yanked my robe off. He dragged me into the bathroom and turned on the shower, spraying freezing water over my bare skin.

His cold lips pressed hard against my neck. He tried to rub away the dark marks on my skin with brutal kisses.

I recoiled from his touch, grabbed the metal showerhead and smashed it against his forehead.

"Get off me!"

Blood trickled down George's temple. His eyes darkened as he cornered me like a predator.

"Get off you?

"Who do you want then? That cheap side piece you're protecting?"

I backed away, shivering, but he pinned me against the cold tiles by my neck. His brutal kiss came crashing down again.

"Clara, stop pushing me! My hatred runs just as deep as yours!"

He bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste spread across my tongue.

A wave of overwhelming humiliation washed over me. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

"Don't touch me! You make me sick!"

George's head snapped to the side. He wiped the blood from his lip and let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Clara, are you done throwing tantrums?"

"You hired some guy to stage this whole scene just to get my attention. Why act innocent now?"

Stage it?

I repeated the word in my head. My blood ran cold.

George stepped closer, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper.

"On Maya's birthday, you pretended to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills to force me home for our anniversary.

"When Maya got pregnant, you slashed your wrists to make me drop her at the hospital alone.

"When Maya was five months along, you stood on the roof of a hundred-storey skyscraper, threatening to jump just to force me to pull the plug on my firstborn."

His bloodshot eyes burned with deep-seated hatred.

"You've pulled these manipulative tricks so many times. You might not be tired of playing the victim, but I'm sick of it."

A deadening chill traveled up my spine. My whole body shook.

He remembered Maya's unborn child.

Yet he forgot five years ago, when I caught him cheating, the trauma caused me to sink into severe depression and lose our first baby.

He remembered Maya's tears.

Yet he treated every one of my desperate cries for help as a disgusting, manipulative game.

The suffocating agony inside me finally snapped.

I grabbed everything on the counter and hurled it at him in a frenzy.

"George, we are getting a divorce!"

He glanced down at my swollen stomach. He picked up the divorce papers and slapped them against my chest with a bitter sneer.

"Clara, I'll be waiting for you to crawl back on your knees."

He turned and walked out without looking back, completely certain I could never leave him.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the dotted line. Then, I dialed a number to confirm my departure.

George Martins, why are you so sure I'm acting this time?