Divorce? Never Letting Go!

Tamara.

I bring my Maserati to a stop in front of the penthouse, a place that once felt like home has suddenly become stodgy, too cold, coupled with so many lonely nights.

It's been a little above two weeks since I last set my eyes on my husband, Killian Ravenford.

And every day for the past one year has been hell in this marriage, endless fights here, meaningless argument there.

I'm tired— exhausted and drained from Killian’s incessant accusations.

On the night of my husband's birthday last year, I had baked him a cake and prepared all his favorite dishes, all I wanted was for him to celebrate his special day with me by his side.

Killian was everything I've ever wanted in a man and more. He's tall with impeccably groomed blonde hair, confident, he exudes a commanding presence wherever he walks into, just like the CEO he is, and above all he loves and dotes on me.

And this man was all mine.

But the front door beeped and Killian walked into our home, behaving nothing like the man I married, absolutely drunk and with Chloe, his childhood sweetheart by his side.

He pointed accusing fingers at me and seethe with contempt. “I hate you, Tamara. I fucking hate you!” He let the words out, like venom, piercing through every fiber of my being, and then he staggered, almost falling off from Chloe's grip.

I panicked, reaching to help him up but he pushed me away, Chloe stepping right in front of him, glaring at me. “Stop it, Tamara. You've done enough!” She spit out, regarding me with nothing but….a smirk?

I have no idea what this is about, but the anger and sadness I saw in Killian's eyes were like a knife straight through my heart… Not only did he say he hates me, he even labeled me….a whore, a murderer.

My hand shakes, my whole body trembles as I try to talk to him, but Chloe keeps butting in.

Looking at her, she has a mischievous smirk and the twitch in her mouth tells me all that I need to know, something's off, somehow.

A lump lodged itself in my throat. I've always known that Chloe was very much fond of my husband, the perfect daughter in-law, Katrina would rather have.

Katrina Ravenford, fierce, calculative and intimidating. I wouldn't say she hated me as a person, but for some or other reason she just… doesn't want me for Killian.

And there seems to be a definite tension between my mom and her, perhaps it's just all in my head.

Over the years, Katrina had acted cold, repulsive and doesn't fail to remind me that I wasn't good enough for her son.

It's almost like she held a personal grudge against me, one I know absolutely nothing about.

Swallowing a painful lump, I ignore Chloe's stunt. “Ki— Killian,” I choked out, my eyes misty, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping to get through to him. “Let's talk about this, alone, please?” I pleaded, my eyes darting at Chloe, who welcomed my gaze with a hard look.

Killian glares at me and I see disgust clawed his features, he wouldn't even look me in the eye. “I do not want to hear anymore of your lies, you're evil and you’ll pay for every pain you've caused me,” he barks, my heart pounds and tears swell in my eyes as I listen to the husband I love speak to me like he hates me more than anything in the world.

Lies? Evil? He believes I'd lie to him?

I'd never do that.

I let out a small sob, despite myself. “I’d never lie to you, never had, I swear.”

Chloe snorts in his stead. “Oh, please. Don't start with the fake tears,” she mocks.

“Stay out of this!” I blurted out in a near scream, snapping my gaze back to Killian, my voice softens as I begged. “It’s your birthday, babe. I made all of this for you, let's not fight, please?” I say with tears in my eyes, but Killian was angrier than ever, the fury on his face almost scares me.

Chloe’s gaze sweeps around the romantically decorated room, she glances over the laden table and sighs, kicking away the candle beside her leg.

And then her gaze falls on me, again and I could've sworn I saw her smirk, a silent message that says everything she didn't need to voice out.

Killian stares at me with no emotions in his eyes and then slowly he turns to Chloe. “Please get me out of here,” he tells her, his words almost slurred.

Chloe flashes him a smile as fake as her long lashes. “Sure, I'll take better care of you,” with a dirty look thrown my way, she begins to help Killian up the stairs, leaving me with tears streaming down my face.

I can't believe he's letting Chloe into our bedroom.

A bad feeling coiled around me, suffocating me. I stared back at the dining table, the flowers littered on the floor, the candle light, and every damn thing feels like a punch to the guts.

I'm hurt beyond anything I could ever imagine.

I wiped my tears, convinced myself that it was all a bad joke, that he'd wake up in the morning and apologize for treating me like crap, that it’ll all be fine, but it never did, it got worse.

He only saw me as a burden, a wife he despised more than anything.

In these past year, I never gave up on our love, it was too real, too beautiful, too passionate. But right now, I'm tired, drained and fed up.

Perhaps I should just walk away. God knows I'd tried everything to make this work. All I wanted was for us to be the couple we once were. But Killian had other plans.

Sighing, I force myself out of my car, instantly noticing Killian's car parked at his spot.

I squint.

He's home and didn't bother to know where I've been?

I almost laughed at myself, what was I expecting? That he'd care? He never had in the past one year. I guess he really doesn't care what I do at this point.

Few steps in and I heard it—- soft giggles, a woman's hearty laughter. Killian’s soft voice, he— he wasn't alone.

And when I inched closer, my heart stopped. Pain, blinding, searing pain pierce through my heart at the sight before me.

I watch Killian smile and sip his champagne, he had his arms around this woman's waist and she's leaning back into his chest, his eyes locked onto hers, with such care and warmth I hadn't seen in one year.

Shaken, my bag fell off, alerting them of my presence and then I see her…. the woman in my husband's arms—- staring at me with a triumphant smirk.

Chloe.