Waking Up To The Harsh Reality

Thalina's body tensed the moment Evander’s lips touched hers.

In the five years of their marriage, he had never once kissed her like this. Even when he fulfilled his duties as a husband, he'd refrained from kissing her.

But now...

Here it was, the sudden press of the lips she had secretly craved for years. It sent her heart into a frantic rhythm and for a fleeting second, she felt herself falter.

A part of her wanted to melt into the bed, let his lips carry on hungrily devouring hers.

Then reality struck.

This wasn’t tenderness or the fairy tale kiss she'd dreamt of during her teenage years.

It was the influence of alcohol.

Snapping out of her daze, she ripped one of her arms free and pushed against him, turning her face away as she managed to break the kiss.

“Evander,” she breathed, shaken. “Stop. You’re drunk.”

His fingers tightened around her chin instantly, forcing her to face him again.

Even in the dim light, his usually sharp blue-gray eyes were unfocused—but intense.

“And how is that your concern?” he asked, voice low. The slur was faint, but unmistakable.

His warm breath hit her lips again as he leaned closer, barely brushing her mouth.

“Drunk or not don’t you want this?”

Thalina's stomach dropped.

“Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” he continued, his tone turning colder despite the alcohol. “Isn’t that the trick you use to trap me?”

The accusation cut deeper than the grip on her chin.

Thalina clenched her fists.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she managed, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it.

Evander held her gaze for a long second, as if searching her face for something he refused to name.

“I know enough,” he said quietly after a heartbeat.

Before she could react, he leaned down and claimed her lips again.

This time, his lips moved with a desperate roughness that bordered on punishing, like he was trying to erase something—or someone.

Her hands pushed against his chest again as she writhed beneath him, a muffled whimper escaping her.

But he didn’t stop.

One of his hands slid down her body, gripping her thigh and pulling it up to wrap around his waist as he settled deeper between her legs.

Then he kissed her again, tongue forcing entry into her mouth as he devoured her like she was some kind of forbbiden nectar he couldn't get enough of.

It was a kiss that she had craved, yet this wasn't the way she wanted it. Not when he was drunk, not when the taste of alcohol lingered between them.

For a dangerous second, Thalina's mind blurred. The years of longing, the ache she had buried, threatened to swallow her whole.

Then suddenly, the sharp sound of fabric tearing snapped her fully back to reality.

It took her less than a second to realize the sound had come from her.

Figure exposed, she instinctively tried to cover herself.

“Evander, wait---"

Before she could finish, a sudden, searing pain tore through her abdomen.

Her body stiffened and she frowned, instinctively clutching her stomach.

This pain... it was the exact same pain she'd felt earlier in the day.

She'd taken the medication as instructed, so why now of all times was the symptoms acting up again?

Through the pain, Thalina glanced at Evander, or at least, she attempted to. But before she could even raise her head, Evander's fingers firm pinched her chin, forcing her to stare into his eyes.

"Don't act all weak and innocent like it's your first time. We've done this before." He reminded her. "It's your duty as a wife."

His words—his cruelty—slammed into her harder than any pain she had ever felt.

Couldn't he see? Couldn't he tell that she was in pain? That she wasn't 'acting'?

Tears pricked her eyes as she stared up at him through the blur. Her body trembled, not from desire, but from pain.

Her lips parted but Evander’s lips swallowed the words before they had the chance to form, tongue delving deeper into her mouth.

Thalina resumed her protest, hands pushing weakly against his chest.

“Evander… stop…”

The rest of her protest was swallowed by his mouth covering hers again.

Suddenly, the room blurred as the pain in her abdomen increased, pulsing sharper with every movement, but it was drowned beneath the overwhelming realization settling in her chest.

There was nothing she could do.

Her resistance weakened—not because she wanted this. But because she was exhausted. Emotionally, physically and completely and if she wanted this to be over quickly, if she wanted the pain to stop, her best bet was just to lay there, letting his hand traveled over her body like he had it mapped out in the back of his mind.

Wherever his fingers touched tingled painfully, and Thalina tried her best not to moan.

But it was no use. After five whole years, Evander knew too well how to conquer her body.

Soon, his hand was cupping her breast, squeezing and teasing the nipples. Thalina felt her back arch against her will as she felt his hand slide up her thighs, his fingers slipping underneath her panties and finding her core.

She wanted to say something to retort yet couldn't help but gasp as she felt him slowly slip his finger inside her, pumping in and out, her arousal increasing and her walls clenching.

She could feel her climax approaching, but the next second, Evander pulled his fingers away and she peeled her eyes open in time to see him stripping right before he positioned himself between her spreading her legs open.

"E-Evander, wait." Thalina protested, placing her hand on his chest to stop him from inserting his swollen member in her. But, Ignoring her pleas, Evander positioned himself in between her legs and pushed his length into her.

"Ah!" She cried, throwing her head back as her inner walls stretched to accommodate his size.

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as the pain in her abdomen intensified, and it took everything in her not to push him off.

Instead, she gripped the sheets beneath her so tight her knuckles turned white.

A few seconds later, when Evander started moving, his thrusts started slow and measured before they turned hungry and desperate.

The alcohol on his breath mixed with the familiar, clean scent of his cologne, created a dizzying cocktail that clouded Thalina's senses.

But even then, she was painfully aware of how her body was responding and she hated it. She hated that her body was betraying the anguish in her heart. Every cell screamed no, but every nerve ending hummed yes.

After minutes of thrusting and grunting Evander's breathing grew ragged. His grip on her hips tightened, almost bruising, as he drove into her with a punishing rhythm and with one last powerful thrust, he buried his face into her neck and found his release, a low groan rumbling from his chest.

He collapsed onto her and just when Thalina thought the worse was over...

"Elowin..."

The name slipped off Evander's tongue as easily as a lover's sigh, and in that single, shattered syllable, the last fragile threads of her composure snapped.

It wasn't the pain in her abdomen that brought the tears or the years of neglect.

It was that name.

Elowin.

It echoed in her mind long after the sound faded from his lips.

A second later, Evander's body stilled and his weight shifted as exhaustion and blackout overtook him and his breath evened out as he passed out.

Thalina however, lay there, unmoving, completely numb as she stared at the darkened ceiling.

Elowin. He'd called Elowin's name in that moment… not hers. 

Pain bloomed anew in her chest and her fingers tightened around the soiled sheet.

A buzzing sound shattered the painful silence. 

Thalina ignored it. Or at least, tried to. 

Another buzzing sound came. Then another.

Slowly, mechanically, she reached toward the sound and grabbed the device. 

It wasn’t her phone… but Evander’s.

Right on cue, the screen lit up again just as another notification appeared.

The name on the display made her fingers freeze.

Elowin.

She stared at the name, eyes slightly wide.

Elowin… Ashcroft. 

Why… why was she texting Evander after all these years?

Her gaze drifted to Evander’s sleeping form beside her. Her gaze lingered on him for a second before returning to the phone glowing in her trembling hand.

She shouldn’t.

She knew she shouldn’t.

But against her better judgment, she unlocked the message.

The first thing that greeted her was an image.

The moment it loaded, her breath left her lungs.

It was a close-up—unmistakable—of Elowin’s fair, slender neck with several fresh red bruises dotting the delicate skin.

Below the picture, a message followed.

[If anyone asks, I’ll just say my boyfriend got a little naughty.]

A winking emoji blinked rounded up the message. 

A slow wave of nausea rolled through Thalina's stomach and once again, against her better judgment, her fingers trembled, but instinctively, she scrolled upward.

The messages didn’t just start tonight.

They started two months ago.

Two whole months.

Elowin had been back for two months.

And Evander had been meeting her.

Her breathing grew shallow as her eyes locked onto the date of the first message.

Her chest tightened.

It was the same day she had been sick.

The day she had begged him to come home early but he had brushed her off coldly, telling her he had meetings to attend—that he couldn’t afford distractions because she was already too “incompetent” to handle the work he’d assigned her as his assistant.

So that was it, the thought brought a faint, bitter curve to the corner of her lips. 

While she—his wife—was curled up in pain, he had been with Elowin.

Tears gathered in her eyes, but strangely enough, her face remained unnaturally calm as her finger scrolled again.

The next important message was dated last month. The night of her birthday.

The night he had brought home a cake. Then, she thought it meant something.

Thought maybe—just maybe—he was beginning to soften.

Her gaze shifted to the photo and made her stomach churn.

It was the same cake.

And the message beneath it?

[Sorry for being allergic to Velvet.] 

Her chest tightened.

So that was it. He hadn’t bought it for her. He had simply handed her what Elowin didn't want.

Trash.

And she? She’d smiled and eaten it despite not even liking sweets. Had gone to bed with a stomach ache the next morning and still convinced herself it was worth it.

A hollow, self depreciating smile curved at her lips now.

How pathetic.

All these years, she had clung to the delusion that one day she might replace Elowin. That persistence would earn her a place.

But staring at the love bites on Elowin’s neck, It was painfully clear that she'd been deluding herself all these years.

A sudden violent wave of nausea twisted through her abdomen and her body moved before her mind could process it.

She slipped off the bed, ignoring Evander’s faint groan of irritation, and rushed toward the bathroom.

She barely made it before she collapsed over the toilet, throwing up her breakfast. 

The sound of her retching filled the bathroom, echoing harshly against the tiles. Soon after, she started coughing, her body trembling from the strain.

She didn’t bother trying to stay quiet. Evander was drunk dead asleep after all. 

After a little while, the vomiting finally stopped and she remained hunched over the toilet, breathing shallowly.

Then her eyes dropped.

There, mixed within what she had expelled was blood.

For a second, she simply stared at it.

She'd only lived for twenty-nine years—Twenty of which was spent loving a man who whispered another woman’s name while lying with her.

A soft, broken laugh escaped her lips.

What a life. What an utter joke she'd become. 

A tear slid down her cheek, but her expression remained strangely calm.

Evander had always said she was pathetic.

He was right.

He'd also been right about one thing.

She was only ever a substitute. 

Now, with the original returning and she left with less than half a year to live, there was no point tormenting each other any longer than this.

Was there?

Slowly, she pushed herself off the cold floor, ignored the ache in her body, ignored the dampness between her thighs and made her way out of the bathroom. 

She found a pair of fresh nightwear, changed into them and picked up her phone from where it had fallen.

On the bed, Evander still slept peacefully.

Unbothered and untouched by the devastation he had left behind.

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, then she turned and walked out of the room.

Once outside the room, she unlocked her phone and found Ronan’s number, dialing it. 

He answered on the first ring.

“Lina? Are you okay?” Ronan asked, voice deep with worry. 

Okay was the farthest thing from her right now.

But she didn't answer that. Instead, her voice came out steady, clear and resolved as she spoke. 

“I’ve decided, Ronan,” she paused for a beat and glanced back at the room, eyes turning hardening. 

“I’m divorcing Evander.”