Reclaiming His Wife

CHAPTER TWO - THE CONFRONTATION

There was an alert look to his eyes as he assessed her to see if she was making an ill-timed poor joke.

“What do you mean you are leaving me? You want a divorce? Since when? Are you unhappy with our marriage? Help me understand where this is coming from Jess.”

Raking a hand through his silky hair in frustration, he paused, those blues eyes narrowing in on her. “Is there another man? Are you cheating on me, Jessica?”

His tone was so sharp and there was a jealous tick in his jaw, that Jessica couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding right? If anyone is cheating, it’s you,” she charged. "And besides, this was a marriage of convenience. Although we weren't sleeping together, it doesn't mean we weren't having sex."

Shock flashed in his eyes briefly before he brutally shut it down and his entire demeanour changed.

“What are you talking about? What makes you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you want to leave our marriage?”

His voice was quiet and calm, his posture relaxed. This was the businessman everyone knew and was afraid of. He was in control. He was always in control. He was never ruled by his emotions. He would not lose his cool and would always tackle a problem logically and meticulously.

“I never said you were cheating. I said if one of us had the potential to cheat, it would be you.”

“Okay, that’s not what you implied. But forget about that for a minute. We will circle back to the accusations of infidelity later. Why are you leaving me?”

“I feel like our marriage has come to an end and it is time for me to move on.”

“Why?”

The ferocity with which he shot the question stunned her.

“Mark, I’ve had a long day. I’m tired and I’d rather not dissect our failed marriage right at this minute. I would just like to pack a few things so I can leave and check into a hotel before the place gets late. You know how I hate driving at night”.

He backed her up against the wall, placing both hands on either side of her, effectively caging her in and leaned toward her.

“That is bull, Jess. This is your home, you don't need to go to a hotel and if you want to go anywhere you don't have to drive yourself. You can simply take one of our drivers. You know this."

Leaning close, so that his face was a mere breath away from hers, Mark studied her every twitch.

"So I'll ask again. Why are you doing this Jessica? What’s the reason you want to leave?”

They had been best friends for two years during grad school, been married for three, and Jessica could count on one hand how many times she had disagreed with Mark or faced him down over something. It was unnerving, to say the least. Added to the fact she was still very much sexually attracted to her soon-to-be ex-husband, and sexually frustrated in general, she found it difficult to breathe much less think around him. Cautiously, she placed her hands on his rock hard abs to give him a gentle push. She needed to move away from his tantalizing body. It was wreaking havoc on her system and short-circuiting her brain. He’d always had this effect on her the moment she had become sexually aware of him as a male.

Ducking under his arm, Jessica stepped around him and decided to change out of her gown and into comfortable travelling clothes. Keeping busy was better than standing still and talking to him. Opening her dresser drawers one by one, Jessica pulled out sensible underwear, a pair of yoga pants, a tank top and a sweater. She wanted to be comfortable and she was done dressing with her husband in mind. Ignoring her husband, for the time being, she made her way into her en suite and forcefully closed the door behind her. Stripping out of the gown she never wanted to see again and into her comfort clothes, Jessica took a moment to wash the makeup from her face. There was no further need for it. Staring in the mirror, she silently congratulated herself for holding firm and prayed she would not crack under pressure. Recognizing she had stalled in the bathroom long enough, she made her way out hoping to all gods Mark had used the time to excuse himself from the bedroom. She had hoped in vain.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation Jessica. You can’t just decide to end our marriage before the stipulated time. It's only been three years. We agreed to five. At least give me a reason. I deserve that much.”

Sitting on a little settee in a corner of the bedroom, tie removed, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, one leg lifted and carelessly draped over the other knee all the while sipping on what looked like a single malt scotch (his preferred drink), Mark appeared as he wanted the world to see him – a carefree billionaire. From the looks of him, he might have been discussing the weather and not his impending divorce. His lack of emotion hurt far more than Jessica would ever admit.

She’d faced him down over the way he treated and interacted with his family on occasion. She was an orphan who'd wished for a family of her own so much so that it physically pained her to be without one. So she could not comprehend him not wanting to spend time with his family. Yes, his mother was a trial. But weren’t all mothers like that? She wouldn’t know, but she’d assumed. So she'd taken him to task over it. But this… this was personal. Cautiously, she made her way to look out the large arched window opposite where he sat.

It was night. The place was dark. So the scene outside was not much to look at. There were stars in the sky, but not as many as they were that night not so long ago. If she strained her eyes hard enough she would see all the luxury of being a billionaire's wife. But material things never impressed her and still didn't. The theatre room, tennis court, indoor and outdoor pools and maze themed gardens all point to a life of decadence. However, to a Guyanese girl who grew up as an orphan in a finance starved orphanage, this was the lap of luxury. It was heaven on earth. So why was she willing to give all of this up?

Her heart.

It was broken and she didn't know how to repair it if she didn't leave.

“It’s time for me to go,” she said, keeping her back to him.

“You’re unhappy here?”

“No!” she blurted out, swinging around, then winced inwardly, knowing she sounded contradictory and that he’d have to wonder why.

To be truthful, she’d been feeling slightly down ever since Mark’s younger sister Melissa had announced her pregnancy a few months ago. She’d been happy for Melissa, but as she watched Melissa get big with her baby and the look of total love and adoration on Melissa's husband Doug's face, Jessica felt cheated. She would never experience that. She could never experience it because she had the misfortune of marrying and falling in love with the one person who would never return her feelings. Ever since she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of being depressed.

Standing up, he made two steps towards her and then stopped. "So what’s the problem?”

You are.

I want you to notice me; to love me.

Dammit, I just want you to want me too.

But how did you say that to a man who didn’t even notice you as a woman? She was his best friend, his confidant, his wife of convenience and that was about it. She’d never acted overtly female around him. It wasn't her nature. Plus she was always cognizant of their arrangement so she'd kept everything businesslike between them. Looking back, perhaps occasionally she should have let her feminine side show. If she had, then perhaps now she might not be in this predicament.

Oh, God, it truly was hitting home that she’d never be in his spotlight. Until now a glimmer of hope had kept her going, but after his subconscious rejection of her tonight, she’d realized that if he knew her feelings about wanting him, then everything would change. She’d be totally embarrassed and so would he. She couldn’t stay knowing that. She’d be totally humiliated. He had taken everything from her. All she had left was her pride, and barely that. It was better to leave with her pride than stay and see even that stripped from her.

“Jessica?”

Hearing her name on his lips struck her like never before. She tilted her head at him. “Do you know something, Mark? You’ve always only called me Jessica or a variation of my name. Never anything else. Never an endearment. Not once. It’s always Jessica or Jess.”

His brows drew together in bewilderment. “What’s that got to do with it?”

Everything.

She wanted to be sweetheart or baby or sweets once in a while. Yeah, they had a marriage of convenience, but they were still married nevertheless. It would have been nice to be called something other than her name. Even if it was only to lend credibility to their sham of a marriage.

She was tired of being Just Jessica. Jessica the woman who’d spent her entire life family-less, who'd left her small third world country on a scholarship and never looked back. The woman who'd never even had a boyfriend because she was too busy surviving in life. The woman who'd only ever been kissed once, and that a chaste kiss when she'd exchanged vows with Mark. Now that she thought about it, she was really pathetic. No wonder Mark never looked at her twice. She was a sorry excuse of a human. What a total waste of life. She was a twenty-six-year-old virgin.

What she needed was a one night stand just to pop her cherry and get it over with. Then she should have a purely physical affair with a man she admired, without ever risking her heart again. That's the first thing she would do after her divorce was final.

She would no longer be simpering Mrs Mark Thomas, devoted wife who kept the other women at bay and shielded him from his matchmaking mama. Not that marrying her had stopped his mother from trying to set him up with an appropriate woman. She couldn’t believe she’d actually thought she’d had a chance with him. If it were up to his mother she wouldn't even be offered the position of a maid in his household. Just another reason to leave all this s**t behind and move on with her life. She was tired of having to deal with his racist-ass mother.

“I have my reasons for wanting a divorce and I think that’s all you need to know.”

“Is someone giving you a hard time?” he asked sharply. “Someone from my family? I’ll talk to them if they are. Tell me.”

She shook her head. “Your family’s great."

Your mother is a witch who treats me worse than s**t but everyone else is great. She wanted to add but held her tongue.

She hesitated for a while, wishing she’d given herself time to come up with a suitable explanation. Needless to say, she hadn’t expected to be here tonight packing to walk out on her marriage, or that her intuitive husband would even come upon her. She’d assumed he’d remain in the living room until all his guests left. This was so out of character for him, it gave her pause.

"What did you come upstairs for anyway? You still have guests downstairs," she questioned.

"f**k the guests!" He bellowed. "My wife is trying to leave me and you think I should be more concerned about the f*****g guests?!"

Jessica's eyes widened in shock. Mark never lost control. Like never. She was so surprised by his outburst, she blinked several times to make sense of it.

"Mark, please don't make this harder than it need be. All I'm asking for is a divorce. Not an end to our friendship. We can still remain friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes, friends. You know, the way we were before all of this".

"Let me get this straight, you want to divorce me two years before our agreed-upon timeframe but still remain friends? What the f**k Jessica?"

Jeez, what's with you tonight? Could you stop cussing at me?"

"I would if you'd explain to me what the f**k is going on here in words I can understand!"

"Me wanting to leave has nothing to do with you, okay? I simply want something more. This is about me.”

One eyebrow rose. “You want something more than living in luxury, your every needs and want catered to and having more money than you could spend in ten lifetimes?" He asked incredulously.

“Yes.” She had to tread carefully. “Mark you know I've never been impressed with money only the security it provided. Besides, it's your money, not mine."

"What do you mean my money? If I can recall, you are married to me without a prenup. So what's mine is yours."

"That's not true and you know it. This was only and had always been nothing more than a business arrangement. One I've grown tired of. I simply want to return to my home for a little while,” she fibbed, then realized that wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Just until I decide what I want to do next.”

"Home? What do you mean to return home? You are home."

“No, I mean to return to Guyana, my home country. It was nice living in the fairytale for a while. But I'm ready to wake up now."

"So that's what you want? To visit Guyana? Will that really make you happy? I seem to remember you saying you’d prefer to stay in America and only visit Guyana if you could help it.”

She’d definitely said that—and at the time she'd meant it. But now she'd realized she couldn't run from who she was. She needed to face her past, figure out who she was before she could move forward with her life. And what better way to do that than to return to the country of her birth.

His eyes pierced the distance between them. “You seemed happy enough yesterday. You were actually excited about tonight's dinner. What changed?"

“I was… I am… I mean…” Oh, heck. She was getting herself tied up in knots. When Mark said he was hosting the dinner and he needed her to plan it, she’d been delighted. She'd felt this was her opportunity for him to see her. Now she was just tired and wanted to slink away quietly to lick her wounds in peace.

Straightening her spine, Jessica took a fortifying breath.

"It doesn't matter how I felt. What matters is how I feel now and what I've decided to do."

He held her gaze. “What are you going to do when you arrive in Guyana? It's been five years and you don't know anyone there anymore.”

“I’m not sure. I’ll figure something out. It shouldn't be hard for me to find a job."

All she knew was that she wouldn’t stay married to Mark, nor would she remain living in the states. she needed a clean break.

He eyed her. “Okay. You have millions of dollars at your disposal now. So you won't have to worry about finding a job."

She ignored his assumption she was taking his money. She was not. During their three years together, she had saved the pocket money he gave her for her personal everyday use. She'd had no need to spend it. After all, he'd provided for all her needs and then some.

All at once, she had an ache in her throat. It sounded like he was beginning to accept her decision. And that more than anything showed he really didn’t care about her.

He scanned her face. “You’re not telling me everything,” he said, sending her heart bumping against her ribs.

“There’s nothing else to tell. I want more out of life than being a convenient wife and I'll have it."

Going over to the drawer near the bed she opened it and pulled out the divorce papers she'd had drawn up last week. She'd hope she wouldn't have to go through with it, but oh well. Such was her life. Picking up a pen, she signed the papers and turned to hand them to him.

“So I’d appreciate it if you would sign these and have your attorney file them.”

She walked toward him. Reaching him, she held out the documents.

He didn’t take it.

There was a measured silence, then, “No.”

The breath stalled in her throat. “Wh-what?”

“No, I won’t accept a divorce. We are not getting divorced. I need you here with me.”

His words sent a jet of warmth through her until she remembered this evening. It had been torturous watching him and Veronica flirt with each other. How could she stay and keep up the pretence that she didn’t want her husband for herself?

She continued to hold the divorce papers out to him. “I can’t stay, Mark. I really need to leave.”

Now.

Tomorrow.

Certainly no later than that.

He ignored the documents until she lowered her hand.

“I’m your husband. We are married and that won't change."

Frustrated, Jessica placed the documents on the bed and went to get her suitcase. She'd only packed the essentials. She wouldn't be taking anything else. Her current wardrobe would not be appropriate for where she was heading.

She felt bad for dropping this on Mark out of the blue, but it was a matter of emotional survival. Her emotional survival.

“I know you had your reasons for wanting us to get married. But three years isn't that much different from five years. The remaining two years would not have made much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. So it's no big deal if we part now.”

His mouth tightened. “No.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m afraid you have no choice.”

“I don’t?” he said silkily, inching closer. “You can’t just walk away from us."

"What us? There is no us. We had a marriage of convenience. Now it's no longer convenient. End of story".

Face stoic, Jessica grabbed her purse and suitcase and walked out without looking back.