Unspoken Pleasure

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Tao Yaoyao

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

Modern Parenting Ex-wife Drama

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Karl and I have been step-siblings for three years, ever since our parents' whirlwind marriage. Growing up under the same roof, we've both developed a love-hate relationship, constantly bickering and competing for attention. But beneath the surface, I never knew I had secretly harboured feelings for Karl, and I was in for a darn surprise.

It was the night of our parents' anniversary, while we all ate solemnly admist our parents' persuasions that I discovered his little secret. None of us spoke a word until Karl spoke up after a while. He snorted, insulting the way I ate.

"You don't have to be so snarky about the way I eat," I remarked, getting pissed as he mimicked me.

"You're not a kid anymore, you're twenty, Jennifer," his tone held so much contempt.

I bit down on my lower lip, threw my cutlery at him to which he dodged. "You think I'm pleased to have this dinner with you here?" I stood up, ignoring my stepfather's alarmed look.

"Sit down," Donald, my stepdad intoned.

Mother was simply suppressing a worried and tired expression, she was tired of all of our bickerings. This should be her happy day not a day that my stupid brother and I gnawed at each other's neck.

"I'm done, I've lost my appetite," I gathered enough courage to voice out my suppressed words.

"We're all having this dinner as one big happy family," Donald said, his brows knotted in a creased frown.

I looked back at Karl, who simply felt pleased. His brows arched high while he dug into his cereals. The room couldn't contain us both anymore, not while he was in my space.

"I'm sorry, dad," I mumbled then raced out to the balcony where the evening air welcomed me. Donald, my stepdad always sided me, but this night, he sided with Karl.

I wiped the running tear that ran down my cheek, how long do I have to endure Karl?

He was unbearable and annoying as fuck. The breeze blew in mildly, caressing my naked arms as time ticked slowly by.

Mum and stepdad wouldn't understand me, they never seem to understand me, especially mother. I heard approaching footsteps towards me. Quickly, I brushed off the rest of my tears and faked a smile.

"I didn't realize you'll take that personally," his familiar voice hushed as he drew near.

I turned to face the intruder, my eyes met that of Karl's and my heart lurched out frantically. His eyes were surprisingly dark yet calm. Karl was almost 6 feet tall, dressed in black, he looked dangerous like a night walker.

When we first met in school, I'd felt struck by his wild, untamed eyes and fine, strong jaw. Realizing that he would be my stepbrother was disastrous to say the least, all forms of likeness for him faded into thin air.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"I repeat, I prefer the other you who protested against my very own whims," he held my gaze while he walked close to me.

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