He's My Husband

ONE

             Emilia stepped out of the car looking at the mansion in front of her. It hadn't changed one bit, even the color was still the same as if they painted it every day to keep it that way. She felt a sliver of panic crawl up her spine but she shoved it back down. Now was not the time to be weak or show any fear. After nine long years, she was back to the place that had given her as much happiness as pain. Weakness was not going to help her do what she'd come to do. It was crucial that she finish what she'd set out to do or staying away would have been for nothing. Schooling her features she started moving forward.

She had been planning this moment for years. In her head, it was always different. Sometimes she'd chicken out and run back to the hole she'd crawled out of and sometimes she'd fly in like Wonder Woman taking back what was hers. Or she would meet with one particular witch who'd scare her off. What she didn't expect was the place to be so deserted. Had they moved? No. Last she checked, which was a week ago, they still lived there. So then where was everyone? She asked herself a second before she heard the music. It was soft, coming from the backyard probably. Was there a party going on? She should have made sure before showing up. Thea had told her that she needed a grand entrance where everyone would be shocked. Well then maybe this party could work to her favor.

Opening the front door she walked in. There was staff, going around dressed in black and white attire carrying trays of food and drinks. The white marble floor was so clean that she had to take small steps to ensure she didn't slide and fall flat on her face. And to think she couldn't even walk in heels when she'd first arrived here. That seemed like another lifetime when she'd bounced through the door in her excitement to meet her husband's family. That girl, who had been happy, cheery, bubbly felt like another person who had lived in another world. It saddened her to think she was never going to go back to being Em because that person was dead. The woman walking towards the back was Mrs. Carter. Hard, cold, unfeeling, dead inside, thirsty for revenge. That was what she'd become. That was what they'd turned her into.

Pushing the sliding doors apart she looked around at the people filled in her backyard. They were all immaculately dressed, each holding a glass of wine or champagne. Emilia took a moment to study them. There was a group of women surrounding someone, oohing and aahing at something the person said. Another stood by a table talking privately. Without realizing what she was doing, her eyes searched the crowd for that one person she hated but still wanted to see. However, her gaze landed on someone who made bile rise up her throat. She swallowed. Lisandra Brown. That bitch hadn't changed. She still looked the same with that ugly face of hers and shapeless body. At least that's what Emilia saw. In all honesty, Lisandra was stunning, with model like features and long legs that went on forever. But to her, that woman would always be ugly. It wouldn't be long until the whole world saw her for the rotten person she was.

Moving her gaze from that unwanted sight, she quickly searched, then gasped when she spotted him. Tall, dark, sleek, masculine. He too hadn't changed. But he looked better, more handsome. Did that mean that while she was slowly dying inside all these years, he was happy and content to live without her? Emilia knew that he wasn't going to wait for her to come back when she was the one who'd left, but he could at least look sad or bored or something that wasn't happy and glowing dammit. He couldn't have moved on so quick and found someone else to love. He couldn't. She wouldn't let him because, despite everything, he was still her husband. As if feeling her gaze on him, he turned and locked eyes with her.

Everything around them faded into the background leaving just the two of them. Memories she'd long buried resurfaced making her heart beat a wild rhythm. The first day she'd met him. The first kiss. The first time he made love to her. When he proposed. When they got married. The days they'd spent together tangled in sheets, covered in sweat because they were on their honeymoon and had decided to spend two whole weeks in their room. In bed. It was all too much for her to remember. So much so that she felt like she was suffocating. Dammit, Mrs. Carter. You weren't ready. You should have waited for a few more days, weeks, years.