Heartbreak And Wars

Aloe's POV   I was still sitting on the floor, lost in thought when the lights went off, signaling that it was time for bed. I was still contemplating on how to leave this loveless marriage, but no idea was coming aside going to Blake Williams, Wake's altermost rival. That I didn't even notice how late it was already.   I managed and stood up, took off the sheets and placed new ones, I didn't bother taking a shower, I just changed my clothes and moved to the bed.   I lay on the edge, facing the wall, my body tense as if even in dreams I'd have to defend myself. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of wind through the curtains kept my mind on high alert. My hand stayed pressed to my stomach most of the night, as if I could shield the baby from the poison that seemed to seep from every corner of this house.   When morning light crept through the curtains, it felt like a spotlight, exposing the mess inside me. My limbs were heavy, but I dragged myself up, slipping into a robe before heading toward the kitchen. I needed a strong and bitter coffee, just something that could keep me from crumbling before I see his cheating asshole face.     But I should have known he'd be in the kitchen, that's his favourite morning position.   Wakes sat at the counter in a perfectly brown suit, every button closed, every strand of hair in place. With his usual businessman mask. A cup of black coffee steamed beside him, and he had the morning paper spread open like nothing in the world could touch him. He didn't look up when I entered, didn't acknowledge me at all, as though I was simply part of the furniture.   I poured myself a cup, willing my hands to stay steady. The clink of the spoon against the mug felt too loud in the quiet.   Finally, without lowering the paper, he spoke. "So. You've decided to be silent now? You were loud enough last night."   My jaw tightened. "I don't know how you expect me to act after what I saw."   He folded the paper slowly, deliberately, and set it aside. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at me like a teacher addressing a misbehaving student. "I expect you to act like my wife. Not some emotional wreck who can't handle the realities of marriage."   My breath hitched. "The realities of marriage?" My voice rose before I could stop it. "You think cheating is a reality I should just accept?"   His expression didn't change, if anything, his eyes grew colder. "You're so naïve, Aloe. You think because you wear my ring, I owe you... what? Fidelity? Or undivided attention?   He scoffed, "I provide for you. I give you a roof over your head, clothes, a life people would kill for. That should be enough."   The words landed like stones, each one heavier than the last. I have suspected it for months that I was more decoration than partner but hearing it aloud still knocked the air out of me.   "You don't love me," I whispered.   He smirked faintly. "I married you. That's more than I've given anyone else."   It was so blunt, so carefully designed to wound, that for a moment my throat closed. My chest ached, but I forced my tears to stay put. I would not give him the satisfaction of watching me break.   He stood up, picking up his coffee as if the conversation bored him. "And do yourself a favor, don't start some divorce fantasy in your head. Because you wouldn't last a month without me."   The challenge in his voice wasn't empty. It was a warning.   I stayed quiet as he walked out, the echo of the front door ringing through the silence and thoughts he left behind.   When he was gone, I let out a shuddering breath and gripped the counter to keep my hands from shaking. His words replayed in my mind, but instead of scaring me into obedience, they lit a spark.   He thought I wouldn't last a month without him. He thought I couldn't survive on my own.   Well he was wrong because I can survive eternity without him, but my sub-conscious was already judging that thought.   But I ignored it and went upstairs, straight to my room and pulled out the smallest suitcase I could find. It wasn't much, just a box enough to hold clothes, essentials, and the few keepsakes I couldn't bear to leave behind. My movements were quick but careful, my ears straining for the sound of the front door in case he came back early.   Every folded dress felt like a quiet act of rebellion and every zipped compartment was a step closer to breathing freely again.   My hands lingered on the nightstand drawer. Inside was a small envelope containing the appointment slip for my next checkup. I had planned to surprise him with it... God, how stupid that sounded now. The thought of handing it to him, expecting joy, made my stomach twist. I immediately pushed the thought aside and slid it into my bag.   This wasn't just about leaving a husband. It was about saving myself and the tiny life growing inside me from a man who treated love like a business deal.   But leaving wasn't going to be simple. Wakes noticed everything. He controlled everything. And if I simply walked out, he'd track me down before I reached the end of the street.   I needed someone who could hide me. Someone with resources. Someone he couldn't easily intimidate or buy off.   And I knew exactly who that someone was.   The thought made my pulse quicken. Calling him was a risk... a massive one. The kind of risk that could change everything, not just for me, but for Wakes too. This wasn't just asking for help. This was opening a door I might never be able to close again.   I sat on the edge of the bed, my phone cold and heavy in my palm. My thumb hovered over the contacts list, hesitating. His name sat there like a ticking clock.   Finally, I tapped it.   The number rang twice before a deep, familiar voice answered. "I was wondering if you would ever call."   My throat tightened. "I need your help."   There was a pause. Then a low chuckle that slid down my spine like a warning. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time, Mrs Savage."   I swallowed. "You'll keep me safe?"   His voice was calm, assured. "Safer than you've ever been with him."   My grip on the phone tightened. "When?"   "Tonight," he said. "My driver will be there at eleven. Pack light, and don't let him see you leave."   A shiver ran through me. I should have asked more questions, demanded to know the cost. But deep down, I already knew that nothing with him came free.   And something in his tone told me this wasn't just about helping me, and I just hope he doesn't ask for what I can't give in return.