CHAPTER 2 EVIE’S RETURN

Anne’s POV

“This house!” She replied, shook her head and chuckled slightly. “You don't know anything…do you?” She made a scornful smile which I found irritating but I couldn't fight back because I am even more confused than upset.

“This is my husband's house.” I claimed, basically, to defend my right and position. I took a few steps forward to get outside and face her to question who she was and her intentions.

She dragged her luggage inside the exact moment I left the door, it seemed as if she tempted me to clear the way for her.

“You can't enter this house!” I protested as she dragged the luggage with her. We are already inside the living room.

“See, woman,” She looked when I dragged the luggage from her. She pointed at me.

“Micheal is my husband.” She insisted, her words oozing with venom. “I don't know what you're doing here. I'm here to claim my man back and you can't stop me.” She challenged me.

“You're wrong!” I snapped back immediately. “I'm his wife. We have been married for three years. You can't just come here to claim what doesn't belong to you.”

Micheal voice from the top fo the stairs Interrupted our disagreement. I was waiting for him to debunk and renounce her that she was wrong but all I saw was a calm and composed demeanour expressing no opposition to his command.

“Evie,” he called her. I flinched immediately. He began to descend down toward us. So, she was actually right. Micheal knew her. I was expecting Micheal to reject it and say it is not his wife. I was waiting for him to say he doesn't know her, but I was disappointed.

“Here comes my sweetheart!” she cried, her voice bright with triumph as she rushed toward him.

Before I could even process what was happening, Michael’s lips curved into a faint smile—one I hadn’t seen in months. He opened his arms, and she threw herself against him. He wrapped her up without hesitation, holding her close like she belonged there.

He gave her a quick soft kiss on her forehead, cupping her face with his two hands as they were staring at each other passionately, eyes meeting another.

At this moment, I couldn't endure or hide my pain. I could hide how the cheating and betrayal hit my heart.

“Micheal” I shouted, my voice cutting through the room like a blade. The sudden outburst snapped their attention to me. Both of them shifted their gaze on me.

“Please, what is happening here? I can't believe this! You have been married to me for the past three years……She came here to say you are her man. I'm confused.”

Tears began to welled down my cheeks. His face was cold and he seemed distant to me emotionally.

“Anne,” he began, his voice and confidence in which he spoke devoid of emotion. “It is not what you think ... .I basically married you to fill up a space…”

“A space?” I groaned in pain. “Are you telling me I am just a pawn for your game–merely a replacement for little time?”

He didn't reply on time. He frowned his face, often to signify that he was bored with the conversation. He glanced at the woman, who adjusted to his left side to face me properly.

“Stop this nonsense! You are supposed to understand by now. I won't tolerate this hell shit from you in front of my babe.”

The weight of his words pressed down on my neck like a dagger. I started imagining how he used to tease me with my hair. He would intentionally drag me to his side, wrap his arm around me like a baby and sing a love song to my small ear.

I remembered when we went to the beach, sitting down on those long chairs, that we used to stretch out our legs, putting on small clothes and him wearing boxers but mine pants. We would sit down, exchanging love messages and assurance.

“You're the only girl I love most for the rest of my life.” He would say with a solemn face as we ran through the raging water foaming itself. We would drink and eat together, beholding how the little children play, and run away from the angry stirring of the water at the beach.

I would chuckle and replied back, “There is no man in heaven, on earth or even in depth that can replace you in my heart. My love!” I would say, as we hold hands together.

All those promises began to surface in my brain. A thought is telling me to remind him in case he forgets what he had said. What he has promised me, but I wasn't sure if I would get assurance of him coming back to me.

“Do you remember I am your first wife?” I asked him again, in case he forgot who I am.

Micheal's face furrowing, my words don't sound right with him. He darted his eyes to the woman, as they smiled scornfully at each other. The woman who had already stood beside him, rested her head on his shoulder. The embrace is still painful to me.

“Anne, you're not a kid.” I heard him say after a few seconds of their romantic display. I am feeling pain and emotional neglect. “With everything I have told you before, coupled to this one, you should now understand my message.”

He said nothing more, just grabbed Evie’s luggage and slung it over his shoulder. Then he took her hand—right in front of me—and together they climbed the stairs.

Each step echoed like a cruel reminder. My husband was walking away with her… to our bedroom.

I was already soaked in tears. How will I start again? Where will I even start from? I kept on pondering on the matter, staring at them till they disappeared from my sight.

I walked toward the armchair and lazily sank into it. The tears were becoming so intense that it welled down uncontrollably. I used the handkerchief in my hand to clean it.

I leaned backwards, resting my back on the armchair as my heart started racing. I have now become a slave in my husband's house. My throne of a wife has been toppled by a strange woman who claimed to be his first favorite which Micheal didn't refuse but admitted it.

After some few minutes, I stood up, pacing to and fro for some moments, my mind flipping from one thought to another. Still yet, I couldn't figure out the preferred solution on what I can do except to commit a crime.

“I’ve no strength to reclaim my man,” I thought within me, my heart dripping with sorrow. I stopped pacing, stood in one spot, lowered my head down but my mind went blank. “The only revenge for me is to commit a crime–killing that strange woman or I hang myself to death.”

Then a strange, faint voice snapped my attention out of my train of thought.

“Fuck you…!” I heard the voice of the woman shouting. I lifted my head, looking toward the upstairs trying to understand the meaning of the word. Is this what I am thinking?

I hurriedly climbed the stairs, by the time I reached the top of the stairs. Another one sounded, “You're too sweet babe!” The voice is similar to Micheal's voice. I tried to open the door but it has been locked.

I shook my head in pity and eventually walked away to another room. My vision blurred with tears streaming down from my eyes. I lied down defeatedly, my mind never regaining its peace because of the unexpected betrayal.

Rest refused to return to me. The weight in my chest dragged me out of bed, pushing my feet toward their room like an unseen force. My pulse thundered in my ears as I gripped the door handle, hesitating only for a second before twisting it open.

And then—my breath caught, my heart shattered.

“Haaaa!” The scream tore from my throat, raw and broken, echoing through the walls like a cry for mercy.