He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back novel Chapter 1

Imogene Scott

People do crazy crazy things for love. But what most people don’t do, is let their husband get with other women just because they think he’ll someday realize they’re the only one for him.

As I say this, I feel totally stupid. I’m sitting in the lounge of Haven’s hotels and Suites and I can’t help but feel uneasy. I’m waiting for my husband to walk out with one of his many flings or at least get his room number.

I’ve always known about Damien’s affairs for the past five years. Our marriage has been like that. He married me because I was pregnant with his child but after losing the baby, he completely changed.

Then the multiple affairs began and we both made a deal not to meddle in each other’s lives. I was hurt, but one part of me has always reassured me that one day, he’s going to get tired of the affairs and love me properly. That one day, he’ll realize he’s never going to find a woman like me in any of those occasionally flings.

Unfortunately, I think he just did.

He’s been seeing this blonde woman for over five months. A blonde woman whose identity he has succeeded in hiding so far. Most of his flings usually don’t last this long. He even stopped coming home too, claiming to be busy at the office.

To top it off, yesterday was our five years marriage anniversary and we were supposed to fly out to Los Vegas last night. But my husband left me waiting and only dropped a text claiming he had to fly out to Seattle for a business meeting. My intel however, told me he isn’t in Seattle but at this very hotel with that woman.

My face begins to heat up again and I drag in a laboured breath. I should at least get home first before wallowing in self pity again. I brought this upon my self. My stupidity has led me thus far.

“Ma’am, can I help you with anything?” a concierge says, walking across the lobby to where I am sitting.

I’m in a short floral dress and hat with a pair of sunglasses. He probably thinks I’m a tourist, wondering why a woman is wearing sunglasses indoors. But can’t help it, my eyes are all puffy from crying myself to sleep last night, hence the glasses.

I put on my best fake smile. Most people can tell it’s fake from the way my lips always twitch, but this good looking concierge seems clueless.

“Damien Shaw. Can I get his room number?” I ask politely.

He gives me a long hard look. “I’m afraid not, Ma’am.”

I open my purse and pull out a wad of dollar bills. Considering the fact that the grand opening of my first art gallery is in two days and this money is supposed to go into the payment for the studio’s lighting, I’m not supposed to be throwing wads of dollar notes around. I shouldn’t even be here, I should be preparing for the grand opening.

I’m finally pursuing my own dreams after spending five years of helping Damien pursue his.

“How about now?”

“Room 2672.” the concierge says almost immediately, taking the wad of notes from me.

By the time I get to the fifth floor, I’m already starting to regret my decision. Shit, did I just give five thousand bucks to that man just to get a room number?

Five thousand bucks shouldn’t be a problem if you’re the wife of Damien Shaw, the CEO of IMU. But I have decided not to spend Damien’s money and start out my own business on my own without his help.

Ding!