I Want A Divorce

    OLIVIA

    

    “Are you and Dominic divorced?” 

    

    I stared at my phone, my brows furrowing as the words blinked back at me.

    

    Why would Lilian, my sister, text me something so out of the blue?

    

    It made me pause. If Dominic and I were divorced, wouldn’t she have known by now? Surely it would be everywhere: on the news, the tabloids, maybe even on social media. Wait… was something happening?

    

    Without thinking, I stood up and walked into the sitting room, where the flat-screen TV hung on the wall. I clicked the power button and my fingers swiped the remote, flipping through channels.

    

    After several minutes, I found nothing, no breaking news about me or Dominic, no reporters, no paparazzi photos.

    

    So what was this about?

    

    I gripped my phone tightly and sent a reply to her. 

    

    “No. Why are you asking?”

    

    I lifted my gaze back to the TV, still scrolling through channels, and waiting for her reply.

    

    Then, my phone buzzed again and a new message came in.

    

    “He just walked into Lustra with a girl.” 

    

    Instantly, my hands went numb and a coldness washed over my skin. Time slowed, no, it stopped. Everything blurred except the screen. 

    

    I reread the message. Once. Twice. But the words stayed the same.

    

    My fingers hovered over my phone, shaking. I typed a reply, deleted it. Typed again. Deleted. 

    

    I felt gutted, like someone had reached in and ripped something out of me. 

    

    With shaky hands, I managed to send a response. 

    

    “Are you sure they’re not there for a shoot? What does she look like?”

    

    As I sent it, I inhaled, my heart pounding. Lilian worked at Lustra, a high end hookup club, so I knew she must have seen them. But Dominic worked with so many models because he owned a modeling agency, Adlese. I’d seen photos of him at nightclubs, always with a reason: work, business, something that made sense. But this wasn’t just any club: it was Lustra.

    

    No, I shook my head. It had to be work. My husband wouldn’t betray me.

    

    Lilian’s reply came in.

    

    “I don’t think he’s here for a shoot.”

    

    Her text was followed by a blurry photo and a video.

    

    My fingers shook as I pressed play and immediately, my heart sank. I saw a girl pressed close to Dominic, her hands on his chest as she rocked him. My stomach twisted, and my phone almost slipped from my hands as I staggered backward.

    

    I couldn’t breathe. It was as though the excuses and lies I had convinced myself of were choking me all at once. Dominic said he was working tonight but he was doing this. Was this what happened every time? Had I been so naive?

    

    I bit my lip, squeezing my phone so hard I thought it might shatter. How could he do this to me? After two years of marriage?

    

    I was here waiting for him to come home while he was out there with other women. My jaw clenched as my pain quickly turned to anger.

    

    A single tear rolled down my cheek as I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.

    

    I slammed the car door behind me as I entered, the engine roaring to life as I turned the key. My hands clenched around the steering wheel, everything in me screaming to wait for him to come home. But I couldn’t.

    

    Another text popped up, and I glanced at the notification center.

    

    “Please don’t overreact and wait for him to come home. There might be an explanation.”

    

    “Too late for that,” I muttered bitterly, pressing the accelerator harder and driving out.

    

    What explanation could he give me now? He had told me he was working late with a clothing brand and some models. Lustra had nothing to do with a clothing brand.

    

    Even if he had an explanation, seeing it for myself was the only way to convince me, the only way to believe him.

    

    Finally, I pulled up like an insane woman at Lustra.

    

    I barely turned off the engine before I jumped out of the car. I wasn’t even thinking about the pajamas I was wearing or the coat I threw on in a hurry. None of that mattered anymore.

    

    As I walked toward the entrance, I swallowed. I always  hated this place, even with its flashing luxury. It was where married men broke their promises, men lusted after women, money was spent recklessly, and sanity was lost.

    

    The bouncer at the door stepped in front of me as I reached the door. I knew I wasn’t exactly dressed for Lustra, not in my pajama-like trousers and coat, not with the mess I must’ve looked like.

    

    “You can’t just walk in—” he started.

    

    “My husband is Dominic Adler,” I cut him off, hating how tight my throat felt saying the words.

    

    The bouncer hesitated, studying me. I didn’t blink and held his stare with all the rage and pain boiling inside me. That must’ve been enough because he stepped aside without another word.

    

    Inside, the music was loud, vibrating through the floor. The noise, the laughter, the smell of alcohol, sweat, and perfume, everything hit me at once. I pushed through the crowd, nearly colliding with a stripper who didn’t even look twice.

    

    The lights were dim but my eyes scanned the room well. And it didn’t take long to find Dominic.

    

    My stomach twisted and a gasp escaped my lips.

    

    He was in  the VIP section, just like in the photo with a glass of wine in hand and the girl grinding on him.

    

    “Dominic, please stand up and say cut, end this photoshoot.” I begged silently, my heart clinging to any shred of hope. But instead, he slapped the girl’s ass and buried his face between her breasts, laughing like he didn’t have a wife.

    

    And just like that, the last of my denial shattered.

    

    My fingers tightened around the straps of my coat as tears stung my eyes. My lips quivered, but I held it in. I wasn’t going to cry, not here. Not for a man who couldn’t keep his marital promises.

    

    In anger, I marched up to his table, stopping just beside it.

    

    “Dominic,” I called out. “Enjoying your photoshoot?”

    

    His head snapped toward me and for a second, his smile faltered and his eyes widened in shock. But it faded just as fast. He looked away, turning back to the girl without a care.

    

    “Having fun with your photoshoot?” I asked again. “I didn’t know it came with… all this.”

    

    His expression went blank and the girl tried to stop dancing, but he grabbed her waist. “Keep going.”

    

    Then finally, he looked at me. “What are you doing here?”

    

    My blood boiled, but I held myself together. “What am I doing here?” I repeated, laughing bitterly. “You lied to me, told me you had a shoot…”

    

    “Dance slowly.” He said to the girl, hands roaming her body like I wasn’t standing right there.

    

    “Dominic!” I snapped. “Look at me. You promised me loyalty, respect. And this….this is how you repay me? With lies and….?”

    

    “You followed me here.” he interrupted, tilting his head. “Who gave you the right to do that?” Was he angry? He had the guts to be angry?

    

    “Dominic, we’re married. I’m your—”

    

    “Since you’re here,” he cut in, “I hope you’ve found what you’re looking for.” Then he turned away, and grabbed the girl’s ass again.

    

    I stood frozen, staring at him, wondering if I really just heard what he said but he wasn’t even looking at me. His hands were all over her, his eyes locked on her body like I’d never existed.

    

    My fingers found the wedding ring on my hand. I turned it slowly, the pain pressing deeper into my chest as tears burned in my eyes.

    

    “Dominic…” My voice cracked and my throat tightened like something was strangling me from the inside. I wanted to scream, to slap the wine glass out of his hand. But I couldn’t. I just stood there, hurting.

    

    “What do you want from me?” he asked, sounding irritated. “You followed me here, violated my privacy, and for what? You want an apology? A plea?”

    

    He shoved the girl off him roughly, rage flaring in his eyes as he finally looked at me.

    

    “Look around you, Olivia. What do you see?” he asked.

    

    All I saw were men like him, cheaters and liars.

    

    “You see men,” he answered himself. “And where there are real men, there will always be sexy chicks. Chicks, not clingy, nosy wives!” He snapped. “I don’t know why you came here, but you’re not ruining my night.”

    

    I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my skin. I swallowed back the hurt and forced my lips open. “I want a divorce, Dominic.”