2#02

2

For six years, I worked tirelessly to become the most cherished weather presenter at Gravenhold TV. It was a journey of constant effort, commitment, and personal sacrifices to secure my position. Nicolas was well aware of how much this career meant to me and the struggles I endured to achieve it.

Yet, he showed no concern.

Perhaps, for Annette's benefit, jeopardizing my standing and profession was inconsequential. After all, hadn't he already demonstrated his callousness when he coolly arranged for our unborn child to be terminated for her sake?

This realization brought tears to my eyes. The strike I delivered to Nicolas was charged with every bit of my sense of betrayal, leaving him momentarily dazed.

"You're hardly in a position to discuss boundaries right now, Nicholas," I hissed, my voice trembling with rage.

"Are you listening to yourself? What do you mean by saying she can occupy my position until she tires of it and then return it? Do you believe I require your pity? That role was mine—earned through my own perseverance and hard work!"

I glowered at him, my words flowing like poison. "This is typical of you—inflicting pain, then offering a token gesture to smooth things over. That's so characteristic of you, Nicolas. Manipulative to your core."

I shoved past him and retrieved a gift bag from the car's rear seat, the one he had proudly purchased to 'make up' for my job loss. Without hesitation, I flung it at his feet.

We parted ways on unfriendly terms, driving off in opposite directions—his vehicle heading west, mine east. The symbolism wasn't subtle. Much like our arranged marriage, our once-aligned paths were now irreconcilably divergent.

That evening, Annette sent me a text. She requested my presence at a private lounge, as if she were royalty summoning a subject.

Upon reaching the door, I saw them.

Nicolas was sprawled on the central couch, his arm around Annette, grinning carelessly. Their friends encircled them, joining in their laughter.

One of them joked, "So, what's your plan if Rowena actually goes through with the divorce?"

Nicolas scoffed, finishing his drink. "That won't happen. She's too in love with me to follow through. She's just being dramatic. Typical of her."

From my vantage point, peering through the door's gap, Annette spotted me. Her gaze turned piercing, conveying an unspoken message: Hurry up and end your marriage to him.

I didn't linger. I turned and walked away without a backward glance.

For the next fortnight, Nicolas was absent from home. I was indifferent.

The rain had been unrelenting, drumming against the windows like a gentle, persistent reminder of my isolation.

One evening, as I sat on the sofa channel surfing, Annette's face suddenly appeared on screen. She was attired in a fitted blazer and skirt, her hair flowing over one shoulder. Her expression bore a smile, but it appeared forced and uncomfortable.

"In the coming days, temperatures across the nation are expected to decrease further due to successive cold fronts..."

Her voice lacked inflection, and when she faltered over a challenging phrase, I felt a twinge of smug satisfaction.

At that moment, the front door opened, allowing a gust of cold, damp air to enter. Nicolas walked in, soaked from head to toe. Wordlessly, he tossed a towel in my direction and leaned closer, water dripping onto my nightgown.

I remained motionless, my expression icy.

Realizing I wouldn't dry him off, he snatched the towel back, rubbing it through his hair. Noticing Annette on the TV, he smirked, exuding pride.

"Not bad for her debut broadcast, right? I knew she had potential," he remarked, his tone oozing self-satisfaction.

I disregarded him and stood up, heading straight for the bedroom.

Nicolas followed, his gaze dropping to where the damp spot on my gown clung to my thigh. His eyes darkened with obvious desire. Before I could react, he pinned me against the headboard, his lips forcefully trailing unwanted kisses along my face.

"It's been so long since we've been intimate," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "Don't you want it too, baby?"

I laughed—a harsh, mocking sound that filled the room.

My mind flashed back to the image of him entangled with Annette on our living room sofa, their bodies intertwined in a way that still nauseated me.

I attempted to push him away, but his hands were persistent, restraining mine behind my back.

Our eyes met and I could feel the anger surging within me as I taunted him. "Oh, so now that Annette is occupied with her new role as weather presenter, you lack a woman to satisfy you, Nicholas?"