Virtuous Love

SARA'S POV 

The rain tapped softly against the glass panels, a mournful rhythm that filled the silence of the house. The room was dimly lit with romantic scented candles and scented with jasmine and lavender air freshener.

The candles I had lit for a romantic dinner now made the room look like something out of a séance.

The food was cold, untouched.

I didn't bother reheating it.

What was the point if my husband wasn't going to show up for our anniversary?

I sighed and reached for my phone again. The screen lit up.

11:28 pm

I opened my messages and kept refreshing, even though I already knew there was nothing new. Just the same one from Rina:

It's your anniversary, the perfect time to try and mend things between you two. Make the most of this chance. I believe in you.

I had read it over and over again, but didn’t know how to respond. Deep down, I should’ve known it would turn out this way.

I looked around at the table I had set, the cake, the wine, and the candles. It all looked sad now. Like I had planned a celebration, no one showed up.

Things have been like this between Derek and me for years now.

I had tried everything in my power to make him see me, to make him love me, but it was all for nothing. I still wasn't the woman he wanted.

I tried calling him again one more time, maybe something had happened to him. An accident, maybe…

My heart stopped.

No, it couldn't be. I'd have been notified by now.

His phone, once again, went to voicemail.

I sighed, trying to pretend my eyes weren't stinging with unshed tears or that my chest wasn't aching like I was being pricked by a thousand needles.

Why… Why can't you just give me a chance?

I whispered in the darkness alone, my lips quivering. 

The sound of the TV in the background caught my attention. I hadn't been watching, but now, the headline on the screen made me freeze.

“Derek Marshall spotted in Paris with renowned heiress of the Ford family, Alyssa Ford.”

My heart sank. 

Alyssa.

The woman who has been plaguing my marriage from the start. 

I held my breath. She was wearing the necklace in the photo, the one I recognized too well. It had belonged to Derek's mother. Which by right supposed to be mine.

I sat down slowly, phone still in my hand, shaking and stared at the screen.

So, that's where he was. With his mistress. If I could call her that. These days, I’m the one who felt like the worthless mistress.

I balled my hands into fists, a wave of different emotions crashing against me.

Humiliation, sadness, regret, and worthlessness.

They all merged together to form a blizzard or tornado, and it was swinging me around.

I was so tired of keeping my feelings bottled up.

My hands shook as I watched Derek smiled at Alyssa on TV like she was his everything. It was the moment I realized he was never going to love me like he loved her.

I wasn't her, and the realization hit me like a slap. 

I would never be her. No matter what I did, Derek had made his choice. He’d chosen her over and over again.

She was all the media knew.

But I, his real wife, wasn't even known as his wife. I was just a simple, stupid wife married to keep our families’ bonds and friendship alive.

I turned off the TV without a word and moved to the dining table, where I blew out the candles. 

I took the cake I had made and dumped it in the trash, and even the wine.

I walked up the stairs and into my daughter, Danielle’s room. At least I still have my daughter.

She has always been a bit fragile, and with the weather turning cold recently, she hasn’t been feeling well and often wakes up at night. I don’t want her to find herself alone when she wakes. 

In her early years, even though we had a nanny, I still tried to do everything myself. I was busy day and night taking care of her. Since then, Derek hasn’t helped with parenting, always caught up in his work. 

Over the years, my little girl has grown up. Because her dad often takes her out to play while I’m usually the one disciplining her, she seems closer to him now. But no matter how close she is to her father, I believe she still loves me the same deep down.

Squatting by her bed, watching her peaceful sleeping face, I felt a little comforted.

Suddenly, as if caught in a nightmare, little Danielle’s brows furrowed, and her limbs began to flail. 

I gently patted her chest, hoping to soothe her. Her tiny lips moved slightly, as if she were trying to call out someone’s name.

I lowered my head and listened closely. Then I froze.

Alyssa.

“Alyssa, I'm so scared," she whimpered.

I stared at her, what was left of my heart shattering into pieces.

“Mommy Alyssa,” she cried again. “I'm scared.” Her voice broke. I was stunned for a moment, then came to my senses and picked her up.

“Danielle, mommy is here,” I whispered. She stared up at me with her cherub face.

“Mommy, I want Alyssa.”

I might as well be stabbed in the heart. That would have been better than having to hear my daughter call for the woman destroying my life.

“Uh, honey, she isn't here, but I'm here for you, okay? Did you have a nightmare?”

I sucked in a breath, trying to hold on to the little patience I had left in my arsenal. But it was almost impossible.

Even my daughter preferred her father's mistress to her own mother.

It was the last straw.

I couldn't do this anymore.

I could not stand being the second fiddle in the lives of the most important people in my life.

It hurt too much.

I needed out, I wanted out.

I wouldn't be missed by anyone anyway. Alyssa was the woman the media knew anyway. She was the one everyone wanted with Derek, and I couldn't blame them. But I wouldn't wait around to be cast aside. I was going to leave this marriage with my dignity intact.

Without thinking, I kissed my daughter's forehead. “Alyssa will be here soon, love. Sleep now, everything is okay, the monsters are gone,”

Surprisingly, she didn’t respond to me. She turned to the other side, back at me and lay back down. I tried to tuck her back in, but she shifted away from me further into the bed. 

“Goodnight” I whispered. No responds.

My eyes sting with unshed tears as I stood up. Releasing a heavy breathe, I made my way back to the living room and picked up my phone.

“I want a divorce, Derek.”

I clicked send.