Chapter 1: Just Sign the Damn Papers.

~Elena’s POV~

A tired sigh leaves my lips as I step onto the porch of our home, my heels making clicking sounds against the wooden floor. I feel so exhausted from my flight back from London.

The three days I spent away from my husband has been absolute torture.

I had gone on a business trip to London, just a short one. The deal was finalized quicker than expected, because Mr. Moore, my client, insisted we wrap everything up a day earlier than expected due to a family event he had with his daughter, which meant I got to come home early.

A smile tugs at my lips as I think about tonight. Damian has no idea I’m back. I had been dying to surprise him, and now, I finally could.

Heat rises in my cheeks as my plans for tonight run through my head.

I'm not gonna lie. I have plans. Big ones.

My heart clenches in anticipation.

Gosh, I missed him so much, it hurts.

I dig through my bag for my keys, balancing the small gift bag on my wrist. My phone vibrates, and Isa’s name flashes on the screen.

I answer with a tired smile. “Hey, Isa.”

“Happy birthday, babe!” she practically shouts into the phone.

I chuckle. “Thanks, love.”

“So, how’s my best bitch celebrating? Let me guess the whole of LA is about to shut down for your party?”

I roll my eyes. “Actually, I’m not in the mood for all that this year. I just want some alone time with my husband. Something… special.”

Isa groans, “Ohh, I see, some alone time. Damian is about to get his dick sucked tonight, huh?”

"Isa!" I laugh, shaking my head.

“Hey, no judgment. Just make sure he makes you scream. It’s your fucking birthday. You deserve mind-blowing sex and a man on his knees for you.”

I roll my eyes, but can't help the warmth that spreads through me. Isa always hypes me up like no one else.

I feel the cold metal as my fingers finally wrap around my keys, “Talk later, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too, birthday girl. Now go get fucked senseless.”

I end the call, still smiling as I slide my key

into the lock.

The house is dark as I step inside. The familiar scent of home welcoming me.

I place the keys in its usual spot.

Removing my heels, I sigh in relief because I couldn't bear the torture they were giving me any longer. With my heels in one hand and the gift and bag in the other, I climb the stairs, eager to get into bed with my husband.

But just as I reach the top, a sound stops me.

A low, muffled moan.

Damian is home, probably watching p**n. Or touching himself.

God, the image of him lying on our bed with his legs spread and touching himself makes me blush and smile as I move towards our bedroom.

Then I hear it again, this time clearer.

It is a woman’s moan.

For a moment, my brain refuses to process what I’m hearing. It has to be a mistake. It's probably the TV.

But I hear them again. This time, her moans are louder, clearer and desperate.

“Oh God, Damian, harder!”

My fingers tighten around the gift bag in my hands, the small, stupid ribbon curling around my wrist like a cruel joke.

That voice. It sounds so familiar.

Just as I am about to place the voice, I hear another moan. And a groan.

This time it's his voice. Damian's voice.

“Fuck, Sophia.”

I didn't even realize that I was in front of the door until I pushed the bedroom door open.

And there they are.

Damian, my Husband. And Sophia, his Ex.

Sophia is lying on her back, her long, toned legs wrapped around his waist. My husband’s waist. Her red painted nails rake down his back as she arches into him, her head tilting back as he slams into her, his hands spreading her wider as he takes her.

His body flexes as he thrusts in and out of her. His skin is glittering with sweat. His dark hair is damp, falling over his forehead as he buries his face in her fucking neck.

His lips, the same ones that swore to love me, the ones that swore I was his forever, trails down her neck. His tongue swirls over her nipple before sucking hard as he fucks her.

Hard.

She falls apart beneath him, her body bowing as she moans like a goddamn pornstar, her voice thick with pleasure.

“Oh my God, Damian, your cock feels so fucking good.”

Damian grips her hips, thrusting deeper, his jaw clenched, completely lost in her like our marriage doesn't exist.

I can’t breathe.

I wish I can shut my ears. I wish I can look away.

But I can’t.

Instead, I find myself staggering, knocking down a flower vase in the process.

The instant the vase shatters, the bed creaking noises, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the moans all come to a halt.

Both their heads snap up, surprise shining in their eyes. I see Damian's body stiffen, his dark eyes locking onto mine, wide with shock.

But, he doesn't move. He doesn't pull out or shove her off.

He just stares at me, still buried inside his Ex.

Sophia scrambles to cover herself with the sheets. “Shit.”

I swallow down the bile rising in my throat, my hands trembling, my body ice-cold.

Damian finally moves, pulling out of her, and she gasps at the loss.

The sound almost makes me vomit.

He puts on his pants.

"Elena, wait..” he says in a rasp voice as he steps towards me.

I take a step back away from him.

"How long?" I croak, muttering the first question that strings together inside my fucked up head.

Damian is silent. His breathing and eyes are unsettled like I just caught him stealing a cookie, not sticking his dick in his Ex.

"How long?!" I yell this time, my voice nearly breaking.

He says nothing.

"A year. And a couple of months."

The words don’t come from him.

They come from HER.

That slut says it so casually, like it’s nothing. Like she didn’t just rip my fucking heart out.

"Wait,' there is a pause as the realization of what I just heard finally catches up with me, “What?! A year and a couple of months?! Are you kidding me?! That's almost how long we have been married!"

Disgust. Rage. Nausea. They all run through my veins as I say the words out loud. My husband and his Ex. Fucking for a year and a couple of months while still coming home to me.

I turn on my heel and bolt.

Damian follows as I rush towards the living room at full speed, his mouth spewing all sorts of silly excuses like he's reciting lines from an awful cheating scene.

"I didn't mean for you to find out like this. It was a mistake."

Blah Blah Blah.

As soon as I get to the living room, he grabs my wrist, spinning me around. "Let me explain!"

"Explain?!” I shriek, yanking free. "Explain what, Damian?! Explain how you've been shoving your dick into your ex while climbing into bed with me every night or how you've been lying to my fucking face?"

He winces. "It was a mistake…"

"A mistake?” I let out a scoff. “Forgetting to buy me a birthday present is a mistake."

I point to the direction of the room. “THAT is not a mistake.”

His jaw tightens. "I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.."

"Oh, I’m sure you didn’t!” I yell, my voice dripping with every iota of sarcasm I could muster at the moment.

“Can you just let me explain without being sarcastic?”

His words cut me deep.

But, It's not just his words. It's the way he says it.

The arrogance. The audacity. He talks as if he has the right to be fucking pissed after what I just witnessed.

My palm connects with his face with a hot slap I have been itching to give him since I walked in on him screwing his ex.

He winces, his eyes flashing wide with surprise as he steps back from me.

"Fuck you bitch!" He curses at me.

"What did you say to me?"

I can't believe he had the guts to curse at me after what he just did to me.

"I have been trying to play the good guy here but you have pushed me beyond my limits, Elena." He says to me, walking over and sitting on a couch in the living room.

This cannot be happening to me.

Still sitting there on that couch, his posture emits so much coldness that chills me down to my bones.

He has gone from being a loving husband to an asshole.

Or maybe he was always one but I was too blind to see it. Until Now.

I watch as he reaches his briefcase. He takes out a file and shoves a file into my hands.

"Just sign the document.”

His voice is cold, sending shivers down my spine. I stare at the file which is in my hands and flip it open.

The first words written in red bold letters on the document stare back at me, causing my head to spin.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

The words stare back at me.

My gaze drops to the signature line.

And there, staring deep into my soul, is his signature and name.

Hot, angry tears threaten to spill down my cheeks as I look up at him.

"Damian, you have no right to do this to me," I manage to say, my voice cracking for the tenth time today. Not that I have been counting.

How dare he try to divorce me when he has been the one cheating on me with another woman?

His expression is blank. Like I meant nothing to him.

"Just sign the damn papers, Elena."