EX-HUSBAND’S LAST CHANCE AT LOVE

ISABELLA’S POV

Today was exactly two years since I married the man I had loved for five years. A smile caressed my lips as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and turned my head to steal a glimpse of the pretty red and white cake sitting in the transparent box on the passenger seat. My phone dinged continuously, but every time I looked at it, it was just classmates from way back, expressing how lucky I was to be married to the once school hottie and a multi-billionaire. Maybe my marriage wasn't as rosy as people thought, but I was at least glad I got to be with him.

Alaric Wolfe….

His name rang in my head for the umpteenth time.

The image from the first day I saw him seeped into my mind. It was my first day in college, and I was just a shy, nerdy girl with whom no one wanted to relate. Even my sister did her best to avoid me.

“Who walks around in glasses and an ugly outfit like that? Reputation, girl. I don't know about you, but mine matters.” She had said, sounding so disgusted as she walked away.

However, as I stood under the hot, scorching sun, I was lost and unaware of what to do next. This good-looking male walked up to me. The sun's reflection danced on his golden, wet hair. He was on the school sports team, especially dressed in their white shirt. The second he spoke, his thick, sexy voice wrapped in a million layers of honey sent my stomach fluttering. He had been the first and the last man to make me feel that way. His volunteering to help me find my class had been the start of my ‘Love Wolfe’ episodes, and gradually, I found myself drawn to him. Was it the way my stomach would flutter every time he sent a smile my way? Or my little yet chaotic heart race every time I watched him play the ball? My cheeks would light up any time I watched him step into my classroom, even when he didn't glance my way, and step by step, I let my pencil dance to the rhythm of my heart, sketching all I could in hopes of giving him someday. Yet, I feared it would never be enough because the other girls always gifted him things that cost a lot of money.

However, five years of secretly loving him had paid out. I was married to my soul mate. Even though he despised me for what had happened that night between us, it had to be fate. Ending up in the hotel room with him had to be fate.

My sister’s weak attempt to get me drunk and get a man to disvirgin me had to be destiny. The party was fated; everything from the mistakes in room numbers to ending up in bed with him had been ordained by the universe. It had been their only way of answering my everyday prayer to wed him. To get that one thing I desired. Alaric was my all. He was all I ever dreamed of. Even when everyone had told me back in school that he was just being nice to me like he was with every newbie. I still wanted to believe there was more. More under the facade he had to put on.

My heart warmed a little as I played with my ring. The memory of our wedding enveloped my thoughts. Even though the ring had been a gift in one of the sweet lollipops on the roadside, I was still glad he thought I was worthy of wearing it, but did he?

A tinge of sadness found its way in. Alaric despised the sight of me. He had tried his best to avoid me at home. He barely came home, never spoke to me, nor did he eat the meals prepared for him. Most nights, I would wait up, watching the clock tick by with no sign of him, as I drenched my pillow with a product of the hollow ache that had now eaten deep inside me.

It was 7 pm, and yet no call or text from him. He had been absent from home for three days now. The meals I had prepared were getting colder. A tinge of sadness stirred inside me at the thought that he could have forgotten, just like the last time. Tears stung my eyes as I picked up my phone to dial his number. On the third ring, his melodious voice came alive, reminding me of why I fell in the first place.

“What do you want?” There was distaste in his voice, but at this point, I was used to it. He probably just wasn't good at conveying emotions, right?

“Alaric. You didn't come home last… I was worried.” I let out, my heart thudding loudly against my ribcage.

“And since when did I tell you I needed a babysitter? Don’t stay up tonight; I have business to attend to.” His words cut through my heart like a sharp dagger, and I felt tears sting my eyes.

“Alaric…” I let out softly, hoping and praying that he would remember the day. “Today is….Can you please come home just for today? I have something to tell you.” I informed, running my palm over my stomach. A smile curled up my shaky lips as I glanced at the doctor’s report beside the cake.

The morning dizziness, the running temperature and the banging headache I had felt for days weren't just malaria-like I had thought it was. The doctor had called me on my way to pick up the cake.

“You are eight weeks gone, Mrs Isabella.” His words rang, and I felt my heart leap joyfully—our baby. I couldn't wait to tell him. I had read somewhere that raising our baby together would bring us closer, and I wanted nothing more than that.

“It can wait. I need to….” His words were cut short by the female voice in the background. The one calling out to him to help her with her zipper. Pain dug its claws into my heart, and the hot tears trickled down my cheeks. He was there with her like always. His childhood sweetheart, Elena Whitmore. Cheerleading leader back in school. Hottest girl in school with a reputation to die for. Her father was a politician, a very influential and wealthy one.

Everyone knew he liked her, and everyone always did, except me. Because I had been too in love to care or to notice, this was why it had come as a surprise when he ended up with me. When his parents insisted on saving their reputation, apparently, not only did my sister set me up, but she also paid reporters to barge into the room to ruin what was left of my nerdy self.

Imagine the shock when he was the one in bed instead of the drunk homeless man she paid off the street. I had always known Valeria, my sister, despised me, but never this much.

Tell me why Alaric stared into my eyes and reminded me that he would never love me in this life or the next.

Maybe we were never on the same side of the food chain. Maybe my family was slightly average. Perhaps all they gave me was just their name. But yet, I had loved him for him. Never his money.

“Just for some minutes to…”

“I have to go, Isabella.” With this, he hung up, and I felt the strength I had mustered all day dwindle. My hands were trembling now as more tears trailed down.

When was he ever going to love me?

My phone dinged, and I excitedly pulled it up, hoping it was him informing me of how he changed his mind. But no, it was a group notification from Elena. My fingers shook as I clicked it open to see her dressed in a Red outfit, his favourite colour, with him behind her. He was smiling at her, looking at her in a way he never did to me. He was….

The messages went on nonstop. Questions of if they were together. Suppose he had finally divorced his useless wife to marry her. And I felt my heart shatter into tiny pieces. I scrolled through the messages, hoping he would get annoyed and defend me. Defend the woman he married.

But no, Alaric had exited the group just some minutes before the post. He knew. He did and yet decided not to be a part of it.

“Hahaha. You know he is mine all day. His words, not mine.” Elena had typed, and I could visualise her rolling her eyes and pointing her neatly painted red nails' at me as she cackled.

I felt a pain grip my chest tightening, and for a second, I found it so hard to breathe. My vision blurred with tears as I let the phone slide off my palm. When was I ever going to be enough? When was he ever going to stop hating me? When was he going to look at me with so much love? When was…..

A loud horn goes off in front of me, and before I can comprehend anything, shards of glass shatter around me, piercing through my skin. The car bounced forth and back, as did I. Each came with a pain worse than before as my heart pounded heavily. The cake splashed all over the deck and the now crumbled car. I could feel my will fading as I drifted in and out.

Distant, muffled voices echoed in my ears as my spirit fought with my body.

“She is bleeding.” Was the last thing I heard before I plunged into darkness.