REGRETFUL CEO WANTS EX- WIFE BACK

LISA`S POV

I watch couples begin to stand from their tables and walk to the exit door of the restaurant. Most of them are holding hands, talking to each other, and laughing at their banter. The restaurant is filled with soft laughter that begins to simmer as the place remains deserted, midnight lurking around the corner.

Today is a special day for us, Valentine`s Day and our third wedding anniversary. This is also the day he proposed to me at the top of his skyscraper building before we were married the same year. The venue was adorned with colorful flowers, balloons, and elegant red and white linens. A candlelit table, complete with a full-course meal prepared by highly experienced chefs, was ready for us. We watched the moonlight and the twinkling stars around it as he whispered to me. Dirty things. The ones that had my panty soaked. He held me tightly to himself until there was no room between us, staring into my soul. “You are my world, my everything. I`d rather die and not have you by my side, Lisa.” And I believed every word that came out of his mouth. Every damn thing. Like the foolish lovesick that I am.

I look over at the seat opposite me on the table. Empty.

It is killing me inside to know that my husband has abandoned me on our special day. The day that we could have been making merry and toasting our new wishes and prospective achievements. After having a miscarriage last year, I have good news for him we could toast and enjoy a blessing.

I am pregnant.

I was pregnant with a baby, a boy that he wanted so badly that when we lost one last year, he did not talk to me for the entire year because he was devastated. I understood him and today I have good news for him I hoped he would show up.

“Excuse me, ma`am, we are about to close the restaurant in five minutes.” A waitress tells me before moving to other tables to collect the dirty dishes. I hurriedly signal for the check and a waiter comes by. Smiling, I give him my card.

“I am very sorry, Mrs. Thatchwood I know it is a  tough time for you.” The waiter says.

Wait, what? I must be looking as pathetic as my life is.

“What do you mean?” I force myself to smile.

He shrugs, pointing to the empty chair opposite me on the table.

“A beautiful woman like you deserves to be treated with love. If you were my wife I would have treated you like the queen that you truly are.” He says as he hands my card back, brushing his thumb on mine, smiling at me, his dark brown eyes gleaming.

“Thanks.” I avoid his eyes. Tempting fucking beautiful eyes.

I hastily stuff my things in my handbag and stand to walk off.

“Would you like a ride?” He asks as he remains standing by the table.

“No thank you. I have a ride waiting for me,” I said before rushing out the door. Moses, my driver opens my door to the backseat and I scramble to sit before I can have another awkward conversation with him. The car rolls on the street which is already sparse. The street lights of New York illuminate my face, evoking the light I yearn for in my life.

Tears begin to stream uncontrollably from my eyes. This is the worst day of my life. I tried calling James the entire night, but he did not answer my calls. Why is he doing this to me? What if something bad has happened to my husband while I am preoccupied with my emotions right now? I decided to call him again in hopes that he would pick up again. It rings for a long time, and when it is about to go to voicemail, he eventually picks up.

“Hi.” He says

“Hi? Is that the only word you can say to me, James?” My anger is boiling to the brink. Why would he do this to me? He could have just told me that he did not have time for our date today and we could have done this some other time.

“I am waiting for you at home. There is something that I need to tell you.” His voice is cold and monotone. What might have happened?

“What is wrong with you?”

“You don`t get to ask me any questions. Make your way to the mansion as quickly as possible. Are we clear?” He bluntly snaps at me. The last time he ever spoke to me in such a tone was the previous year when we lost our unborn son through a miscarriage. He shouted at me every time, and would hardly speak to me.

“Okay, I am on my way…” He hangs up.

I sigh deeply, palming my face. I try to think of anything I might have done to make him this angry but can`t make out any. This morning we were on quite good terms that he even kissed me goodbye before leaving for work. Maybe he is struggling with work and will be better after some rest. 

Ten minutes later, the car arrives at the front of our house, a three-story mansion situated on top of the hill. Moses opens my door and I nod thanking him before walking to the double doors.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Thatchwood. Mr. Thatchwood is waiting for you in his office.” Jane, the house manager takes my bag and opens my door.

Walking down the hallway, I hear a woman`s muffled giggles from his office. Who might that be?  I walk nearer and the sound of the giggles becomes even clearer. Walking up to the door, I turn the knob and the sight that I see renders me breathless.

Good gracious!

A redhead woman is sitting on his lap. They are passionately kissing, and her short- skirt has moved up, revealing her bare ass. She is seductively grinding on his crotch, eyes closed.

My jaw slacks. Realization dawned on me that my husband was cheating on me. Is that the reason why he did not show up to our date? Instead, he rolls out with a mistress on our special day. I feel so betrayed and left out. What did I do to deserve such a level of disrespect? I decided to play it stupid and see what he called me for.

Please do not make a scene. I have to remind myself.

I walk into the office, leaving the door slightly ajar in case I need an escape. You never know what he might have planned or how dire the situation can get. I noisily clear my throat and they both scramble off each other, their eyes wide open.

“What happened to knocking? Don`t you have good manners?” He hisses, fixing his erection in his pants.

“This is also my house and I do not see the need to knock when I want to get to any room, whatsoever,” I say, walking toward them. I see a vein bulge on his jaw.

“Good.” He says, opening a drawer and placing a piece of paper and a pen on the desk. “Now sign this, I do not want to see your face around here.”

I pick up the papers and flip through them. It`s divorce papers. Does James want to divorce me? No.

I stare at him, my heart thudding in my chest. He gives me one of his classic aloof looks.

He nods towards the paper, suggesting that I quickly sign it.

I feel my eyes sting and tears begin to roll down my eyes. He is such a selfish jerk. What happened to the loving good boy I met three years ago? What changed?

Through my hooded eyes, I see the redhead smiling as she pulls down her skirt back to knee length. “Hurry up and sign the damn papers so that I can become the new Mrs. Thatchwood. You do not deserve that position. You have never deserved it.” She says as she walks towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, lighting a cigar and blowing the smoke out to the city.

“James, what is wrong with you? What happened to us, the dreams we once had of growing a family together?” I say as tears continue to stream from my eyes.

“You could not give me whatever I wanted you to. You are not enough for me and I want you completely gone out of my sight.”

“But I thought that you love me… You told me that, James.”

“I DID love you.” He gives me a deadpan look.

“But…”

 He cuts me off as he loudly bangs the desk, his eyes furious.

“Sign the damn papers, Lisa.”

The sound of the table banging immediately makes me grab the paper and sign the divorce paper. I do not care to read the terms of the paper because I know he hates me so much that he will not care to give me any alimony. I also do not want his money, property, or anything to do with him. I would rather roam the cold streets of New York as a homeless person than be anywhere near this vile person I once called a husband.

I hastily stand from the chair and walk towards the door.

“Oh, and one thing, Lisa, Camilla is pregnant with my son. Something you could not do in the past three years of our marriage.” He says walking toward Camilla and gently rubbing her belly.

 Smoking while pregnant, yeah Camilla is surely setting herself up for disaster. And I do not care. All I have to worry about is how fast I need to get out of this hell of a place I once called home. I will find somewhere small where my baby and I will lay our heads.

We will be ok. I hope so.