Anastasia: A silly crush, that's all it took to ruin my entire life because here I was four years later with no family but the man I gave everything up for, the man who now wanted nothing to do with me, the man who was madly in love with someone else, and the sad part of it was I brought a human in it, a human who had to suffer because of my mistake. Well, enough was enough. It was time to reclaim my position and give my daughter a better life, with or without him, but definitely without him, and he wouldn't just walk free; he would pay for every tear my daughter and I shed.

William: The marriage was never supposed to happen; she tricked me into it; she ruined my chance at love because now I had to marry her whether I liked it or not. I never loved her, and I did everything to make sure she experienced hell on earth, but when she proposed divorce, I panicked; my heart skipped a beat for the first time in four years. I was afraid to lose her; I couldn't let her go. I had to fight for her; I had to win her back. I couldn't let another man take her and my daughter from me. I had to save my family.

WASHINGTON, SEATTLE 2022

~ANASTASIA~

Most stories open up in a decent environment, but mine opened up in a rather rathole—a prison cell. I tried to pinpoint the moment everything went wrong, but I couldn't. I don't even know when my perfect world flipped upside down, let alone how I got here.

Never in my life did I imagine I’d be in a prison cell, let alone because of the man I love.

God, life can be so unpredictable!

I was staring at the dirty ceiling, watching the spiders scurry around. I don't even know how I didn't throw up with this place smelling like it does, full of rats.

“Mrs. Rogers?” A guard's voice snapped me back to reality. “You're going home,” she said as she unlocked the cell. A smile crossed my face at the thought of my husband.

Finally, I was going home; my husband was here for me; I thought he had forgotten about me.

I followed the guard as she led me out of the cell to the reception, but as we reached there, I saw a man I wasn't expecting. I looked at the door, hoping to see my husband. He might be on a call or something.

“Here are your things, Mrs. Rogers; you're free to go.” I heard an officer who was at the reception say, “You just need to sign here.” He sounded kind. I quickly turned and grabbed the document from his hands. I wanted to see who had bailed me out, but I was disappointed to find it was not my husband.

“Of course, it's not him,” I muttered under my breath, feeling disappointed; my heart even ached at the thought of it not being my husband.

“Is there a problem?” The officer asked as I stared at the document. Five hundred—that's how much my bail cost, but apparently my husband didn't have it for me, or maybe he just didn't care.

"No, there's no problem,” I cleared my throat. “Please, where do I sign?” I asked; I couldn't show how hurt I was, not in front of anyone. The officer pointed to the striped lines, and I took the pen, signing my name.

“But you should be careful from now on; if you're caught speeding again, there will be serious consequences,” he warned, and I nodded. “You're free to go,” he stated, and I thanked him before I walked toward the door.

“Ms. Anastasia, so good to see you.”

“I'm not dealing with you today.” I looked away from the man who paid for my bail.

“I understand, but at least allow me to drive you.”

“No, my husband will come and get me; don't you have other... Don't you have work to do?” I questioned, as he had been following me for as long as I could remember.

“This is my job, Ms. Anastasia,” he said, sounding innocent. I rolled my eyes at how persistent he was. "Please, Ms. Anastasia, just a ride home, then I'll be out of your sight.” He insisted. I looked out the road and hoped to see at least a sign of a taxi, but nothing.

"Fine, but just a ride home.” I sighed.

“I promise,” he quickly ran to his car and opened the backseat door for me, rolling my eyes. I walked to it and got in.

“And I'm married, so call me Mrs. Rogers.”

“My apologies.” He apologized, then closed the door before he got in the driver's seat and started the car.

Gosh, I couldn't wait to get home, have a warm bath, eat good food, and hopefully cuddle with my husband. The past few days I haven't seen him felt like forever.

I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. I couldn't fight the urge to rest, even just for a few seconds. Prison is not a place I would wish for anyone, not even my worst enemies.

I don't know for how long I've closed my eyes, but when I felt the car coming to a halt, I jolted up and looked out the window just to make sure he brought me home—my husband's house, not the other way around.

“Thank you,” I said as I opened the door. I didn't hear what he said, but something. Well, it didn't matter; what was important was that he brought me home.

Reaching the gate, I found it locked, so I knocked. I kept knocking, but no one came to answer. ‘The gatekeeper must be off today,’ I thought as I reached into my handbag and got my keys. Luckily, I had a spare key for the gate, so taking it, I opened the gate, and after closing, I walked toward the house door.

I couldn't help but notice my husband's favorite car. “He must be off today,” I said to myself, “but if he's..." I stopped and thought for a second, “No, he's probably not feeling well,” saying that I quickly rushed to the door. What if he was sick and no one came to check on him?

But as I unlocked the door, I heard sounds that made my bag slip from my hands. The sounds seemed to be coming from the living room.

My heart started racing and, my nerves pricking, but I calmed myself; I didn't want to jump to any conclusions and regret it later.

“Aah, baby!”

My knees felt weak. I knew who the voice belonged to.

Even though it felt like my legs wouldn’t support me any longer, I dragged myself to the living room. I had to see for myself. And there, the small hope I relied on was shattered.

My husband was in between a naked woman's legs; I didn't need to guess who the woman was, as I knew those legs well—Jimena.

“What the fuck? What are you doing here?” My so-called husband quickly got up and zipped his trousers; he was still shirtless. No, I won't say I was shocked. I knew he was cheating on me. I just didn't know he would do it in my own house, especially when I was locked up because of him.

I knew about his infidelity; Jimena made it well known. Still, I held onto a small hope that he would one day get bored of her and change. I never thought it would lead to this—I was never prepared for a day like this.

"Babe, please go upstairs.” He didn't sound regretful or shameful at all, and no, he wasn't talking to me; he was talking to Jimena.

I watched with blurry eyes as she obeyed him; she even had the guts to peck his lips before she walked toward the stairs in my own house. “And you, were you not supposed to be in jail?” he turned to me, his voice cold.

“W…w-what?” My voice trembled. I didn’t even know what I was feeling as I couldn’t feel my heart—it was like it stopped working, but I could feel my body shaking and the tears that I hadn’t even noticed rolled freely down my cheek.

“Listen, grandfather is dead, so there's no use pretending anymore; we're getting a divorce.” He declared, sounding calm, like I didn't just catch him fucking his mistress on my sofa.

WASHINGTON, SEATTLE 2022

~ANASTASIA~

“We're getting a divorce.” I was speechless. Sure, the marriage never worked out, and I expected this after his grandfather's death, but today? How could he do that when I sat in that cell for his crime?

I shook my head fighting back tears. I’d grown used to his infidelity, but divorce? How could he even suggest that?

“I will have my lawyer start with the process,” he brushed his fingers across his lips, removing lipstick, the sight of it made my heart ache.

“W-what… What are you saying, William, I-”

“Aren't you tired of crying?” He spoke over me. I looked up, seeing the frustration in his face as he raked a hand through his hair. “Listen, you tricked me, and your time is over, or what made you think Grandpa would never die?”

“But...why are you saying this? I…” Words failed me.

“I’m not doing this. Not today, okay?”

“We can talk about this, William; we can’t just…”

“Just what? Get a divorce? God, you’re such a headache.” He started rubbing his temples; he always did that and always complained about how unhappy he was, but I knew marriage wasn’t easy; I knew he wasn’t himself, so I stepped closer and tried to touch his hands, but he flinched away.

“What the fuck? Why would you touch me?!” He raised his voice; yes, he never allowed me to touch him; the only time I would ever feel his skin is when he’s horny; that happens maybe once a month, the times he and Jimena are having misunderstandings.

That’s the only time I felt desired, as he would come to me and start kissing my body, and once he got what he wanted, he treated me like trash. Well, he was hard to resist, so he always got his way.

“I’m sorry, but we can work on this—our marriage, William.”

“There’s nothing to work on, Anastasia; I never loved you.”

“But I do. You know I love you.”

"Well, Jimena doesn’t want to share me anymore; now stop making this a big issue and get out of my sight!” He spoke louder. The frowns on his forehead told me he was very upset, and I knew him well. I’ve been married to him for four years, so I knew if I continued, it would not end well, so I closed my mouth and silently watched him walk to the sofa, and then he started fixing the sofa, returning the cushions to where they belonged.

“And do me a favor; Jimena doesn’t like noise, so if you would just close your mouth.” He added, not sparing me a glance. I was silently staring at him with tears still rolling down my cheeks. No, this wasn’t happening. How could he bring his mistress into my house and ask me to keep quiet because she didn’t like noise?

“Baby?” I heard Jimena’s voice, which made me quickly wipe my tears away; I couldn't let her catch me in such a vulnerable state—I refused to let her think she had won, especially since I knew she always wanted William for herself.

“Are you done?” She asked; she was so unbelievable. She walked to William, slightly pushing me off her way.

So disrespectful.

"Yes, everything is okay.” I watched as William wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. He had never once done that for me—he only kissed my lips when getting what he wanted.

It was stupid of me to think of it now because he never loved me. Jimena was the woman he loved, but I was his wife. I’ve been his wife for years. The least I deserved was their respect.

My heart shattered into a million pieces as they settled on the sofa. She was in his arms while he pressed the remote—searching for a movie to watch, not caring that I was there. The tears I wiped earlier were in vain, as more began to sting the corners of my eyes.

What hurt was that William seemed genuinely happy; he laughed from the heart; not even his mother, whom he loved so much, made him laugh like that. It hurt that I couldn't make him feel this way.

“Some films are scary,” I heard Jimena say.

“I'm here; I won’t let anything happen to you," William said they behaved as if I weren't there, or maybe I was invincible to them.

Well, it was too hard to watch so I wiped my tears and headed up to my room, leaving the two there—my husband and his mistress, how did I end up here?

‘This must be a nightmare,’ I repeated in my head, even though it didn’t seem like a nightmare; my brain just wanted to believe that it was.

Reaching my room, I closed the door and walked to the window. I needed to think; I didn’t want to overreact. Like I said, I never prepared for this day to be face-to-face with Jimena. I mean, what is a wife supposed to do when she meets her husband's mistress? I didn’t want to be one of the wives who overreact, but this?

This was beyond what I could handle.

“Calm down, Anna, please calm down.” I calmed myself and dug my fingernails in my palms; I needed the pain to distract me from the feeling in my chest.

I then walked over to the bed, picked up my phone, and dialed my best friend's number.

“Anna? I’ve been trying to reach you; are you alright?”

“Yes…” I sniffed, “I’m okay, are you free?”

“Yes, but you don’t sound okay, do you?-”

“I'm fine, I... I just miss you. Can we meet?”

"Yes, sure, I will-”

“Usual place,” I cut her and then ended the call. I couldn’t speak to her any further or my voice would just break, and she would immediately know something was off, and the last thing I wanted was to worry her.

I don’t think I would be alive without her. I’ve gone through this marriage with her; we have cried, screamed, and healed together. I felt bad for always adding to her plate as she was also having some issues with her family. That’s why I couldn’t tell her that William asked for a divorce.

I walked to the cupboard to prepare my clothes for after the shower, but when I opened the right wardrobe door, I found it wasn’t my clothes.

“What?” I asked myself in disbelief as I reached the left door, and again, there weren’t my clothes.

“Your clothes are packed.” I heard Jimena's voice, which made me slowly turn at the door, and there she was standing with her legs crossed; she was also holding a glass of juice in her hands.

“Excuse me?”

“I'm moving in with Liam; I mean, you two are getting a divorce, and it won't be long before we get married, so he thought we should share the bedroom.” She said, in her angelic voice. Jimena was pretty, with long legs, a round face, a model-shaped body since she was a model, curly blonde hair, and full lips. I understood why William loved her.

“And besides, we are having a baby, and I get nightmares in a small room.”

Her words echoed in the back of my head as I felt it hurt. Jimena was pregnant? I mean, him cheating on me was already hard enough, but this? God, how was I going to even solve this?

She was carrying his fucking baby!

WASHINGTON, SEATTLE 2022

~ANASTASIA~

I felt my head spin, so I moved back to the bed and sat down as my heart was in pain too.

“I did you a favor by packing your bag; I could have just scattered your things,” Jimena said, and I ignored her as I calmed myself down but failed as my chest was uncontrollably moving up and down.

“Y-you… You can't be pregnant; William will—he won't accept it.”

“Wait, are you calling me a liar?” I don't know what was wrong with her, but I knew I couldn't show her how much she was hurting me. I was William's wife; she was just his mistress. It didn't matter if he loved her or not; the law and the public knew I was Mrs. Rogers, not her.

“Yes.” I said as I stood up from the bed, “You have always loved my husband, so I'm sure you made this up.”

“No Anastasia,” she said and came closer to me. I looked at her confused. “Liam has always loved me; you are the one who came between us; you are the one who tricked him; I will never–”

“It doesn't matter.” I cut her, and she eyed me confusedly. She was probably shocked at my reaction; maybe she was expecting me to cowardly cry, “I'm his wife, and that's all that matters.”

“He's going to divorce you.” She said in a trembling voice. “He loves me.”

“Until he does, I'm still his wife. The lady of the house, now remove your filthy clothes from my spot before I do something you will regret.” I warned, but she didn't move. I've never seen Jimena so quiet; she always had something to say.

"Oh, out of words? I'm not surprised; you're just a mistress; all you know is to steal other women's–” I didn't finish my sentence as she caught my attention with what she was doing.

She raised her hands with a wicked smile on her face, then poured the juice on herself. Before I could speak, she started screaming like a crazy bitch, then shoved the glass in my hands.

It happened so fast that the door opened and William rushed in.

“What the fuck?!” William quickly took Jimena in his arms as she pretended to shiver.

"She's crazy; I didn't do anything, Willy. I..." She sobbed, which made William rub her back as he nodded and repeatedly apologized. I was amused; I couldn't even find the words to say.

“She's going to pay for this.” William gritted his teeth, dangerously looking at me.

"No, please don't; she's just upset, I understand and–”

“Please go to the guest room.” William cut her.

“What?”

“Go clean up; I will join you shortly.” He said, and she nodded before looking at me and faking a sympathetic smile.

“I understand what you're going through; I promise I do, but you know how much William and I love each other.”

“You don't owe her any explanation, Jimena," William said, and she nodded her head before she walked to the door. I watched her every step; I still couldn't believe she just did what she did.

When she reached the door she shot me a scornful look before walking out, as if she’d won some unspoken game.

“Why the fuck did you do that for?!”

“I didn't do it; she's lying.”

“Don't you dare accuse Jimena; she is not like you.”

“Wait, so you're calling me a liar?”

“Yes, now get your things and prepare to apologize to Jimena; you know how sensitive Jimena is.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?!” I raised my voice; I've never raised my voice at him.

“W-what?” He probably didn't expect me to raise my voice.

“Can you hear yourself now? I should pack my things and go where exactly?”

“To one of the guest rooms or Ivy's room, we are getting a divorce, and this is my house.”

“But I'm still your wife, and as long as we are married, this is my room; I will not give it up for...”

“Fuck!” He rubbed his forehead. “You're just a fucking headache; haven't you tortured me enough?”

“Seriously?”

“All fucking four years of misery, what have I done to deserve this?” Yes, he was doing it again, acting like the victim.

“William?” I shook my head. How did I even fall for someone like this, so selfish?

“I’m going down to check on Jimena; I don’t even know what the poor girl is going through with this mentality; I want you out when I come back.” He said and then walked to the door. I watched him, but as he reached the door, he stopped at the question I asked him.

“Have you ever imagined loving me, even just a little?” I asked through tears; my heart was beating faster; it was like it was going to stop at any moment. I tightened my grip around the glass.

“What?”

“Answer me, William, have you ever imagined loving me, maybe in five years, even just a little?” I repeated, I needed to know.

He turned, his face serious, “Never. I will never love you, not even in the next life. The last four years were hell on earth. I hate you, Anastasia; I fucking hate you.” His words rang in my head.

He hated me.

He slammed the door, and I sniffed before I wiped my tears, as that was all I needed to hear.

I tried. I swear I tried.

I turned and saw my packed bag. I didn’t care if everything I needed was there; I just needed to leave. This was it. I couldn’t do it anymore.

I walked to the bedside drawer and took the document his mother brought to me a few days ago.

“Fucking sign the papers you leech!” I remembered her words; she never wanted me for her son; just like him, she hated me.

Without wasting time, I took the pen from the table and placed my full name on the dotted line.

A tear fell on the document blurring the ink as a sharp, stinging pain gripped my chest.

I stared at my blurred name for a moment before I carefully placed the divorce agreement document on the bed, and taking my bag, I walked out of the room–ignoring the pain in my chest, I would cry but not here.

I didn’t even want to look back; I didn’t want to regret anything while I was still here.

I quickened my steps down the stairs but reaching the lower steps, I stopped as I watched William tickling Jimena; he was laughing. William had never smiled, not even in the photos.

I don’t know how I could be able to fix my heart from here, as it was more than a million pieces now.

Tears naturally found their way to my cheeks as William bent down to kiss her flat belly; he never even did that even when I was carrying his child.

Wiping them away, I walked down and reached them, I stared for a moment before I cleared my throat, which they noticed.

“What’s this?” William annoyedly asked, “Don’t tell me you don’t know which room to choose.” His whole mood changed; yes, I irritated him.

“I’m leaving.”

“What?” He sprang to his feet, turning to face me. Jimena, on the other hand, picked the magazine from the table and started paging through, clearly enjoying the drama.

“I’m leaving; I already signed the divorce agreement.“

“What agreement?!” William raised his voice as he came closer to me.

“Submit them after you put your signature on. I want it finalized as soon as possible.” I said, but upon finishing my sentence, William grabbed me by my arm and forced me to face him.

“I didn’t ask you to leave.”

“I don't need your permission.”

“You leave when I say so!” He raised his voice, and his grip on my wrist tightened; it was starting to hurt.

“You can’t stop me.”

“I’m your husband, and what I say goes.” For the first time our eyes met, his dark green eyes were staring into mine; I couldn’t tell what he was trying or why he was against me leaving.

“Oh my God, William, let her go.”

“Shut up, Jimena!” He raised his voice, which was the first time as he had never raised his voice at her, not even when they fought.

“And you listen to me,” he pulled me closer to him, “you don’t leave this house until I ask you to; is that clear?!”