Love After Leaving: No Regret (Agnes and Raymond) novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Let’s Get a Divorce!

Fluched

Pain swept through Agnes body. Except for the first year of their marriage, the past two years had been nothing but coldness and humiliation. She was bruised inside and out.

If it weren’t for Raymond’s mother, she would have given up long ago.

Bzzz!

Agnes’s phone buzzed.

She wiped her tears and picked it up. Her heart sank when she saw Hillary’s name.

“Agnes, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Raymond stayed at my place last night.”

“He’d had too much to drink. I didn’t expect what happened to you. Please don’t blame him; just blame

me.”

Agnes’s hand shook. Didn’t she get it? Hillary was doing this just to rub it in.

She wanted to make sure Agnes kno

-no matter what happened, Raymond would always choose her.

Agnes ignored the message and opened Hillary’s Instagram.

As expected, there were two posts from last night.

The first was a nine–photo carousel of flowers, cake, a party, a delicate diamond bracelet, and a man’s back.

Caption, “Thanks, my love, for the amazing birthday party. Love you! Muah!”

The second was, under the night lights, a man’s sharp side profile, lying on the bed.

Caption, “Goodnight. It’s so good having you here.”

Both posted last night–exactly when she was fighting for her life in the hospital.

The irony hit her like a punch. She had come back from death’s door, clinging to life.

r

Did Raymond even remember her birthday?

That back. That profile. She’d know those anywhere, even in her worst nightmare.

Tears streamed down her face Pain and grief squeezed her chest so tightly she could barely breathe.

Her miscarriage had been the last straw. She couldn’t take it anymore.

A man who didn’t even care about their baby had no right to her love.

He didn’t deserve it. He and that bitch? Better lock them up for life.

The thought brought a strange sense of release.

12:43 pm pp

Chapter 2Lets Get a Divorcet

Standing at the sink, staring at her reflection, she barely recognized herself.

She was only 23 but looked 50, Pale, gaunt, drained–every inch of her radiated sorrow.

Fished:

She could barely remember the girl she had been right after marrying Raymond–20, innocent, bright, full of dreams, and endlessly hopeful about love.

That was the real her, the girl she used to be

The next days in the hospital passed quietly. Agnes ate on time and slept or time.

Every drop of the supplements sent by the Newtons went straight into her body.

Megan would marvel at how much she ate. Does this girl ever get enough to eat?

No wonder she was so thin.

Youth helped her recover fast. Soon, it was time to leave.

Before discharge, she sent Raymond a message, “Raymond, let’s get a divorce. Now you’re free!”

She tossed her phone aside and focused on packing.

Outside the door, a tall, straight figure appeared.

He looked at Agnes sitting on the bed, staring blankly. She looked better.

Raymond had rushed to the hospital after seeing her message.

He knew she was throwing a tantrum, so he came personally to pick her up. At least, that’s what he thought he was doing.

“Packed everything?” he asked.

Agnes looked up, and her mood soured instantly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Taking you home.”

“Didn’t you see my message?”

“Stop making a scene, Agnes. I’m here in person. I’m upset about the baby too. We’ll have more in the future.”

Agnes laughed bitterly. “Who says we’ll have a future?!

“I’m serious. You and Hillary don’t have to hide anything anymore.

“Go ahead, have your life together. Here’s to your so–called happily ever after!”

Raymond frowned. “Agnes, what are you talking about? Now come with me!

12:43 pm pp

Chapter 24et’s Get a Divorce

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

Ignoring her, he grabbed her arm and forced her toward the car.

She wanted to sit in the back, but he shoved her into the passenger seat.

Florshed

It had been a long time since she’d been his car–the last time was probably a year ago for some family birthday.

Inside, cute little decorations covered the car. Agnes immediately knew what this meant.

A grown man didn’t just put these pink girly things in his car

Especially the delicate ceramic doll on the dashboard–she’d seen it in Hillary’s Instagram posts.

Her stomach suddenly churned. She felt sick.

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