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?!”

WASHINGTON, SEATTLE 2022

~ANASTASIA~

I was shocked. Why didn’t William allow me to leave, and most importantly, what made him think I would listen to him?

I knew I was still in love with him, but I knew when to stop. I broke eye contact and freed my arm from his grip.

“You’re not leaving here, Anastasia.”

“Why?” I sounded confident. “Why should I not leave?”

“Because I say so.”

“God…” I couldn’t believe him. I shook my head as I couldn’t find the words to respond. He was full of himself.

“Now go back to the guest room before I lose my patients.” He commanded. I looked at him and then at Jimena, who was as shocked as me as she left the magazine she was pretending to read and fixed her eyes on us now.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you; I mean, sure, I was a fool to fall for you but to think you own me.” I hysterically chuckled.

“I own you. I don’t know if your father told you, but the situation his company is in is not good, and without me, it wouldn’t be a company.”

“Wait, you’re threatening me with my father's company?”

“Yes. If you leave, I will pull out my investments and tell him you made me do it.” He wasn’t even ashamed to say that. How the fuck did I end up marrying him?

"William, what’s wrong with you?” Jimena asked, but he ignored her as he was focused on me.

“Now be a good wife and go back to our room; we will sort this out peacefully." William sounded like he was trying to manipulate me, as his voice was softer than ever.

I shook my head and smiled at how stupid I had been; he really had me for a fool because, on a normal day, I would simply obey and do whatever he says but today isn't that day.

"Good,” he smiled. I don't know what made him think I was doing what he asked, but as I turned and dragged my bag to the door, he immediately stopped me once again and held me back by my arm.

“Let me go.”

“You're making a big mistake.”

“The only mistake I made was to marry you, William.”

“You better listen while I'm being nice, Anna; you know what will happen if I let my devil take control,” he threatened.

“I don't care what happens; let go of my arm now, or I will call the police.”

“You're joking.”’

“You don't know me, William, now...” I forcefully freed my arm and walked to the door without saying another word.

“Don't say I didn't warn you, Anastasia; I'm going to ruin you!” He shouted, but I didn't care; what's the worst that could happen?

Reaching the door, I quickly opened it, afraid that he would stop me, but luckily he didn't. I walked out, and warm tears rolled down my cheeks. I sniffed and held in my cries as I couldn't cry outside.

I didn't have a car and didn't want to go back in there to ask for his car keys because it would just give him and his mistress another reason to look down on me, so I walked out of the gate as I planned to get a cab.

I placed my heavy bag down and reached for my phone, and just when I got it, the same guy from earlier—the one who bailed me out of prison—came.

“Ms. Anastasia?” He called out, and I quickly wiped my tears. “Are you okay?” He asked, and I cleared my throat to speak but could not find the words. I was tired of lying.

“Please go,” I tried to sound okay.

“You know I will be punished if I leave you here.”

“I'm fine, Scott, please.”

“I insist, at least let me give you a ride to where you're going.”

“No, I'm–”

“Please don't make my job difficult, Ms. Anastasia. I promise it's just a ride, then I'll be out of your sight.” He insisted, and somehow it brought a smile to my face as he kept saying this, but it never happened.

I looked down the road. I knew cabs rarely came to this side as most people had their cars, and I didn't want neighbors to find me stranded on the road; they would suspect something and start a rumor on social media, so I nodded and walked to his car while he picked up my bag.

I got in the backseat, my eyes on my phone, as I tried to text Vivienne, my best friend, the one I called earlier, to meet up.

“Oh my god, I've been waiting for thirty minutes now; are you still coming?” Vivienne asked, hearing her voice triggered the tears I was holding in, so I covered my mouth to stop myself from whimpering, “Are you deaf? I said I'm waiting for my friend!” I heard her raise her voice–probably to the waitress; that was Vivi; she was very difficult to handle.

"Yes, I'm fine,” I cleared my voice.

“Are you sure?” She sounded worried.

"Yes, I'm sure I just have the flu. I'm sorry I'm not coming.”

“What? Do you want me to come?”

“No. I… I will speak to you tomorrow.” I was quick to respond.

“Alright, I have to take lunch for Harriot anyway; I will talk to you later,” she said, and I nodded, holding in the tears.

She was taking lunch to Harriot, her husband. Vivi’s life was so easy; she had a good family and a husband who loved her.

I just wondered what she did in her past life that I haven't done because, unlike her, my family disowned me and my husband; well, I couldn't even call him that.

“Do you want to stop by somewhere?” Scott's voice shook me out of my thoughts; I shook my head. “Alright; so–” The ringing of my phone stopped him; it was William.

I canceled as I had nothing to say to him, then it started ringing again and I canceled, then a notification of a message popped up.

‘You have nowhere to go, I called all the hotels. No one will allow you to spend the night at their hotel.’ I read the first message and ignored it.

‘Get back home and let us talk.’

‘I'm only doing this for my daughter. You are the mother of my child, and it will be bad if you spend the night outside and get sick.’ I read the third but shook my head, still not responding.

‘This is your last chance, Anastasia. Not even for Ivy’s sake will stop me from ruining you. You know leaving will attract public interest; now, for the last time, come back home!’ I could imagine his frowny face from the text, then a notification popped up, and it was a tag on social media.

I was curious to see who had tagged me so I quickly went to the post and was shocked to see the headline of the post.

“William Rogers, the CEO of the Rogers enterprise, proposes a divorce to his wife, Anastasia Rogers, the young disowned heiress of the Lancaster family.” I read out loud.

“The public is left with questions on why Mr. Rogers divorced his wife right after his father's death; now if you all remember how their marriage was fishy from the start...”

I quickly went down the comments, and most of them were tags. People were tagging both me and William; it was crazy, but I kept scrolling until a specific tag caught my attention.

My once calmed heart started beating faster again as I saw not only one but two more tagged with the name.

‘Mr. Lancaster,’ my father.

They had just tagged my father, and it must mean he saw it, and if he saw it then I was in trouble—serious trouble—and the last thing I needed was to upset him.

“Fuck!”