Ch-5

HILDA’S POV

I sat on the couch, my eyes glued to the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes past midnight, yet Wilson was still not home.

After he followed Lillian out, the tension at the table became unbearable. His mother forced smiles, his siblings exchanged uneasy glances, and the guests shared murmurs so I could no longer stand it.

I excused myself to come home, blaming it on an acute headache even though it was my heart that ached.

The sound of the ticking clock was the only thing that could be heard in the big mansion. I sat in the living room, twisting the cool diamond ring on my finger nervously.

Despite everything that had happened, I was still waiting for him to come back home.

Yes, I was that foolish.

When the clock struck 1am yet there was no sign of him coming home anytime soon, my anxiety intensified.

I stood up and began pacing the living room while contemplating whether to call him or not.

“He’s never slept out before. He always comes home. Maybe I should call him just to make sure he is okay”. I said to myself, trying to justify my pathetic excuse.

I reached for my phone, but before I could dial his number, headlights flashed through the curtains, casting long shadows across the walls.

My heart skipped a beat as I rushed to the door like a puppy who had been waiting for its owner for a long time.

The front door creaked open before I could touch the doorknob, Wilson stumbling inside.

His suit was wrinkled while the top buttons of his shirt were undone. He stank with the unmistakable smell of whiskey.

“You’re drunk,” I said, moving forward to hold him upright.

“Not really,” he slurred, chuckling like it was some kind of joke. He kicked off his shoes, nearly tripping over his own feet.

I swallowed back the anger bubbling inside me. Seeing him in this state makes me mad because I know it was somehow related to how I treated Lillian today.

He’s drunk himself to a pulp probably because that cunning girl must have put on the face of an Angel even though she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing.

I pushed the bitter thought aside and moved to help him.

Sliding my arms under his, I guided him steadily toward the bedroom. As we moved slowly upstairs, I could feel his warm body against mine and for a split second, I wished we could stay like this forever.

“I can walk,” he protested, but he didn’t pull away.

“You sure can,” I said sarcastically, causing him to giggle like a four-year-old.

When we finally made it to the bedroom, I gently lowered him onto the bed, took off his shoes, and attempted to loosen his tie but he suddenly grabbed my arms, pulling me closer to his chest.

A wave of electric sensation jolted through my body as I looked down at him, startled. His eyes locked on mine, softening for the first time in what felt like forever.

“God, you look so pretty,” he murmured.

My heart squeezed painfully at his words. I was supposed to be happy that he was finally complimenting me but what use was it now if he had signed divorce documents for us in his closet?

He continued glancing at me in ways that occasionally made me feel butterflies in my belly.

“Wilson…” I whispered.

Before I could say anything else, he pulled me closer, his lips pressing against mine with a desperation I hadn’t felt in so long. I gasped, my hands clutching his shirt as he kissed me deeper and harder.

My eyes fell wide open, my body stiffened in an instant as he devoured my lips with those tender lips of his. Something in me wanted to stop him but I didn’t.

Because deep down, this was everything I ever wanted. I longed for the day he would look at me intimately with those seductive eyes.

The day he would make me feel like his woman again.

His hands moved into my hair, his fingers tangling my hair softly tangling my hair as he continued with those kisses.

My walls slowly crumbled. All the pain and heartbreak that was holding me back faded with each kiss.

With his big muscled arms, he rolled on top, his weight pressing against me as I lay under him.

My mind instantly went blank. I couldn’t think of anything anymore. I just gave in.

The night faded into dawn as we moved together underneath the sheets, our clothes and accessories scattered on the floor.

His touch was rough and needy, his breath hot against my body as if he had been starved for centuries.

In that moment, I could tell I wasn’t the only one who wanted this, he did too.

For those brief hours, it felt like maybe, just maybe I had him back. The man who had requested a divorce was willing to give our marriage another chance.

I desperately held on to this thought through every thrust, refusing to slip away.

But then, in the heat of the moment, something happened.

Color drained from my face, my heart pounding heavily as I lay beneath him.

It was as if a blade was being used to tear my heart into a thousand pieces. And snatched away from me the thoughts of reconciliation.

“Dilly….”

That was the name Wilson was busily moaning while I was ready to give him my soul.

Dilly? I was very sure that was a nickname he had formed for Lillian.

Oh, how stupid of me to have thought we had a chance to reconcile.

I pulled away from him, my hands shaking as I slipped out from beneath the sheets. He mumbled something, probably asking what was going on but I stood up and started covering myself like a first timer.

My legs felt unsteady as I headed to the bathroom, closing the door quietly and locking it behind me. My messy hair came into view as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

My eyes were bloodshot, my cheeks flushed while my skin looked pale and dry.

I was broken.

Tears stung my eyes, but I pushed them back. He didn’t deserve them. Not anymore.

By morning, my mind was made up. I had spent the whole night pondering over my life. The only conclusion I arrived at after staying awake for four hours was to live for myself. That’s why I made the decision finally let go of the marriage I had held on to for years.

My eyes darted to the bed, and there he was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

I watched him for the last time, memorizing his face before I headed to the closet.

I searched through the closet and pulled out the divorce papers; the ones he had given me weeks ago but I had refused to sign my part.

My hands trembled as I picked up the pen, hovering over the line where my signature was supposed to go.

I took a deep breath and signed my name firmly, the ink bleeding into the paper like it was sealing my fate.

My wedding ring was what came off next. I slipped it from my finger, feeling the weight lift as I set it gently on top of the papers.

Without looking back, I grabbed my already packed suitcase, opened the door, and stepped into the morning light.

It was time to let go.