Regret After Divorce: Falling In Love All Over Again

Chapter 1

The scent of old books and polished wood filled Ambelyn's nose as she sat in the clean white waiting area outside her husband's office, waiting for him to finish screwing his mistress before he could attend to her.

The familiar aroma of the place  transported her instantly back to another place, another time, where she was happy—six years ago in the college library where she made the happiest mistake of her life and the oner who made her turn out like this years later.

The memory crashed over her like a wave she couldn't fight against.

"Look what we have here," Niklaus's voice was low enough to avoid being overheated by the head librarian  but was intense enough to send shivers down Amberlyn's back, as she was pinned against the bookshelf, her hands gripping tightly to her short skirt as she tried to maintain her composure, to avoid shattering into pieces, while his hands gripped her narrow waist tightly, coming closer even more, shortening the distance between them.

"Always hiding in the shadows, aren't you, little mouse?" His fingers had found a strand of her dark hair, twisting it between his fingers with deliberate slowness. The gentle tug had sent shivers down her spine, making her gasp despite herself.

The sound had seemed to please him, as he smirked while her face turned red from embarrassment.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"*

She should have pushed him away. Should have demanded he leave her alone. Instead, she'd stood frozen, caught between fear and arousal, and it was something that was becoming too strong for her to resist.

*"You know what I think?" he'd whispered, leaning closer until she could feel his breath against her ear. 

"I think you like this. I think you like being cornered by the big bad wolf.

"Mrs. Blackwood? Mrs. Blackwood!"

The sudden call of her name jerked Ambelyn back to the present with jarring force. She blinked rapidly, disoriented, as the white hallway came back into focus. Linda, her husband's secretary, stood before her looking very irritated with her.

"I'm sorry," Ambelyn managed to croak out despite the dizziness, pressing her palm against her chest where her heart still hammered from the vivid memory. 

"I was... lost in thought."

Linda's eyebrow arched with obvious disapproval. The woman had never liked her, though Ambelyn suspected it had less to do with her personally and more to do with the fact that LInda craved the position of being Mrs Blackwood herself.

"Mr. Blackwood will see you now," Linda announced immediately, with a kind of high pitched tone that did not do anything to hide the disdain dripping from her words.

"Though I should warn you, he's had a very busy afternoon."

The hidden meaning of her words hung heavy in the air between them.

Ambelyn's fingers tightened around the hospital forms she clutched—the papers that represented her son's only chance at survival. 

She couldn't afford pride right now. Iniko needed this surgery, and she would endure whatever humiliation necessary to ensure he got it.

"Thank you," she said simply, rising from the plush leather chair.

Linda's smile was sharp as a blade. 

"He's in his private office. You know the way."

Of course she did. How many times had she made this walk over the past five years? How many times had she swallowed her dignity and knocked on that door, begging for scraps of attention, of affection, of basic human decency from the man who was supposed to be her partner in life?

Ambelyn paused outside the heavy oak door, gathering what remained of her courage for her to face through whatever was behind that door.

Through the wood, she could hear muffled voices—her husband's tone, accompanied the familiar mistress voice and her stomach clenched with dread.

She knocked softly and waited.

"Come in."

Thomas's voice carried that particular note of irritation it always held when addressing her.

She turned the handle and stepped inside, immediately understanding why Linda had worn that triumphant smirk.

The scene before her was like something out of a fever dream.

Thomas sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his impeccable suit wrinkled and his dark hair mussed from hands moving through them.

But it was the woman perched on the edge of his desk who drew attention to herself, Veronica his first love, his true love, the mother of his second child.

Veronica didn't bother to look embarrassed. Instead, she smoothed down her dress, while she smirked slower like she had won a bet as she addressed me.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to join us."

"Shameless," Veronica continued, sliding off the desk with feline grace. 

"Standing out there for hours while we conducted our... business. Tell me, do you enjoy the show?"

Heat flooded Ambelyn's face, but she forced herself to meet Veronica's eyes as she spoke loud and clear, not longer hurt by the cheating her husband did, on the side.

 "I came here for one reason only." She held up the hospital forms. 

"Thomas, I need you to sign these. For Iniko."

Her husband finally looked at her then, and the cold indifference in his dark eyes was worse than outright hatred would have been.

Thomas Blackwood was a handsome man right from childhood, but there was nothing soft and warm on his face, nothing that pointed out that he saw her as anything less than trash and an inconvenience.

"I don't feel like it anymore," he said simply, straightening his tie with the kind of casual dismissal one might use to refuse a second cup of coffee.

The words hit her like a physical blow. "What?"

"You heard me." He leaned back in his leather chair, studying her with the same way, an scientist would look at an specimen.

"I've changed my mind about the surgery."

"Thomas, please." The desperation in her voice was clear, but Amberlyn was long gone past caring about her pride and dignity.

"This is our son's life we're talking about. Iniko needs this operation. Without it—"

"Without it, what?" Veronica interjected, her voice dripping with false concern. "Oh, that's right. The little bastard might die."