Asshole Husband

Rachel stood up and looked at him. He’d taken a step closer toward her.

“I’m leaving. Mary’s coming to pick me up.”

“You’re my wife. You’re not leaving.”

“I am. I’m going. This was all a mistake. A stupid … mistake.” She couldn’t bring herself to hurl insults at him.

He grabbed her arms, and she gasped as he pressed her against the wall. “So you know the truth of what I really want. It doesn’t mean I can’t give you a good life. I didn’t need your money, Rachel. I needed your position.”

“And I wanted nothing but what you promised me. I want the man you pretended to be, but he doesn’t exist. You do. I don’t want him.”

“I’m not going to let you go.”

“Yes, you are because if you don’t, I’ll make sure every single newspaper knows about what happened tonight, and how you lied and manipulated to be married to me.”

“You mistake me for a man who gives a fuck, Rachel. You want to play this game we will. I will break that story, and change it so it looks like I was so desperate for you, I had no choice but to make you marry me.”

She hated him in that moment, and loved him at the same time.

She had never been so confused and hurt in all of her life.

“I loved you,” she said, letting the tears come back.

“Rachel, don’t cry.”

“And you promised to love me too, but it was all a lie. I was warned not to trust you, and I told them they were all wrong. You made me look like a fool.” She sobbed. He still held her hands above her head. “You don’t want to be with me, and I don’t want to be with you. Let me go.”

“No.”

“I won’t divorce you,” she said. She would agree to anything to be out of the house and away from him. “I’ll stay married and you can live your own life. We can be completely separate in all things. I don’t have to be with you. You can have the place on the board, and I can live alone, without you.”

“What if you’re pregnant?” he asked.

She felt a spark of hope as he considered her offer.

She would gladly do anything right about now.

“I doubt I am.”

“And if you are?”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll love our child no matter what. You’ll never have to worry about her or him.” She didn’t want to be pregnant. “Just let me go. You don’t want me, not really. Let me go.”

Seconds passed, and he finally let her go, stepping away from her.

She didn’t linger as she grabbed her bags and ran downstairs.

Rushing out of the house, she found Mary waiting for her.

Shoving her bag into the backseat, she climbed into the passenger seat. “Get me away from here.”

When they were outside the gate, Rachel allowed herself the time to cry.

Pressing her hands to her face, she sobbed for everything she had hoped her fairy tale ending could be.

Chapter One

Five years later

Wolfe looked through the endless photographs he had his PI take. For the past five years this was how he got to see his wife, and his son, apart from the weekends when one of Rachel’s sisters dropped him off.

Their one time together had resulted in a son. He still had the photographs from her ultrasounds, and the months leading up to her giving birth. At any time, he could have demanded she let him see her and be with her during the appointments of their son’s birth. She had refused him at every turn, apart from when he asked she see a doctor of his choosing.

Melanie, an old friend from college, had agreed to help his wife during her pregnancy. She was the best in her field, and regardless of the state of his marriage, he wanted the best for Rachel. It was Melanie who told him of the dangers he could impose on his wife. The stress she was under already, if he pushed to force his presence on her, it could have devastating effects on the pregnancy.

He’d kept his distance, but he was there for the ultrasounds. Melanie had helped make sure he could be present without Rachel knowing. She’d installed a camera where he could see and hear so he could tune in to her visits.

It was a complete invasion of Rachel’s privacy and wishes, and he didn’t care. Their child would know his father.

Five years on, they had no chance of reconciling, even after her father had tried to have him thrown off the board. Wolfe had kept his distance, even as he had to listen to Benjamin talk about his mother all the time.

Running a hand down his face, he paused when he came to three images. They were of Rachel at the park, holding Benjamin’s hand, but there was someone else, a third person. A man.