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alldayangst · 3 years

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a free world? (Harry Styles)

All my fics are PoC/LGBTQ+ friendly. Trigger warning/warnings for divorce, kids witnessing unhealthy marriages/divorce. Inspired by Godspeed by Frank Ocean.

“This court thereby grants the plaintiff a divorce. Please wait ninety days for the divorce to be finalised.” The judge bangs their gavel. “This court is adjourned.”

Harry remembers these words like it was yesterday. They sounded nothing like the ‘with the power vested in me’ speech the minister gave five years ago, so he wondered why you were smiling. The whispers you exchange with your attorney were nowhere near as heartfelt as yours and his ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I do’s’ . He looked at you while you look at your lawyer like he just saved your life. Harry wonders if that was the way you truly felt all along.

One thing that never failed to complicate things was the fact that you and Harry had children; children you adored unconditionally. You adopted Heidi and Eden when the love between you and Harry was just too strong not to share, and you remember the ear splitting sobs Harry screeched out for their sake when you decided separating was the best option for you both.

“This is all my fucking fault.” Harry sat on the steps like a child on punishment. You towered over him like a parent in despair. Where did it all go wrong? Snot, sweat and tears. The human body had a funny way of showing pain. “No, nothing’s your fault.” You remembered these words like it was yesterday. They sounded everything like the ‘I think we should end this’ speech you have him three days prior, so you knew exactly why he was crying. His red, runny nose and frantic head shaking was as close as you could get to reliving the undying heartache of yours and Harry’s ‘I fucking hate myself’s’ after arguments and ‘I’m not happy anymore’s’. He looked at you like you could save his life. You wondered if that was truly the way he felt all along. “Why bring a child into our home if I can’t provide the life I promised them?” Harry continued to weep, defeated, as you cradled his head in your arms, resting yours against his.

No love lost.

“The kids know you love them, even if you don’t love me. Being happy and divorced aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Harry snorted and shook his head in your hands when you mentioned the word ‘divorce’, and by that, you could tell that he wasn’t ready to finish something that he started. But you were. “There will be mountains you won’t move, Harry.”

Fast forward to after you were granted the divorce, you’d been slow to move on; choosing to stay ‘two hearts, one home’ with Harry for the sake of your children.

You didn't want to leave, you’d rather slow down. You wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of your children’s last idea of their parents together being animosity in bedroom corridors.

“The table is prepared for you.” Harry noticed you all fidgety, finicky with your ring, pulling it off to the fingertip and rubbing it over your knuckle like this was all some sort of game.

You ate your food over a quiet table. You liked a quiet table now. It was better than the subtle shots and low blows you and Harry threw at each other seven months ago. Perhaps you didn’t know then what was to come.

“Y/N said they found a home not too far out of London.” Heidi dropped this bomb out of nowhere, then proceeded to eat her food, neglecting the fallout. Your children had taken to calling you by your first name because that’s what Harry had reduced you to, you were no longer ‘baby’, ‘honey’ or ‘lovie.’

You hear the clank of cutlery as Harry dropped his knife and fork and abandons his meal.

“Is this true?” he questions, eyes gawking in a line of sight straight at you. Once upon a time, you’d claim Harry could see right through you, into you - but after a few mean words and closed door rows, his vision doesn’t work as well.

“It’s true.” You breathe in uneasily.

“Can we talk in the bedroom?” Harry wiped his face on the cloth and you followed his lead on what you’re sure is to be an adventure upstairs.

“You’re moving? You’re moving without me?”

“Harry, I think you’re confused. You signed up for a life without me once you chose not to contest the divorce.”

“So, what, you wanted me to contest the divorce?” Now Harry is confused. His eyebrows are scrunched up together, and his face is in a kind of puzzle where if you didn’t know him, you’d probably think he was angry. And maybe you were onto something when you called yourselves ‘soulmates’, because Harry knew you know him better than anyone else - you’d had a power where you could see right through him, into him - and your 20/20 vision never failed you.

You’d hate to admit your ego was bruised when Harry didn’t contest the divorce. In a way, it made things peaceful - your house, your alimony and your kids didn't have to be split right in the middle, but nothing would compensate for yours and Harry’s broken bond. That little part of your heart that wanted Harry to contest the divorce didn’t do it out of a love for conflict, but to know you were something to fight for. Why didn’t Harry fight for you? You’d fought for much lesser things. You looked down at the rug beneath you, unable to come to terms with the shame and hurt that you felt you could spontaneously combust under. “I guess some strange part of my mind wanted you to fight for me, thought it would make me feel worthy, like you still loved me.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Harry lifts up your head and kisses the tears beginning to for under your eyes. “Because I do love you.”

You hum in satisfaction because you think this moment is over. Harry has other plans.

He kisses all over your face. Your nose. “I love you.” Your eyelids. “I love you.” You feel your cheeks begin to get wetter, Harry is crying too. Your chin. “I love you.” Your neck. He’s muffled as he smooches and speaks in intervals. “I didn’t contest because I thought this would make you happy. I just want you to be happy.” Maybe this is how Harry felt all along. Harry grabs a handful of your backside. “And one day this is going to be over. And I’m gonna wake up and we’ll laugh because it’s a bad dream.” Harry goes to pick you up, and that’s when you decide you’ve both gone far enough. Love isn’t about pushing hate in the other direction. “Harry, we have children downstairs, we have children downstairs, we have children downstairs.”

Two days later, you were sat next to Eden in the living room, unaware that Harry had chosen to dwell on your encounter the other night. It’d been a habit of his, he’d refused to relent on sweet, simple words, subtle signs, he’d never let things go. Harry and Heidi were washing dishes in the open kitchen adjacent to you with Harry sneakily stealing a glance from you every other second, resulting in some haphazardly washed pots and one broken plate.

The china dispersed itself across the ground. You and Eden looked up from your laptop while Harry and Heidi stared at the broken plate on the floor like it would mend itself that way. “Fuck, Daddy!” Heidi blurted out. Harry looked at her and then looked at you guiltily, hoping you didn’t think it was him that had taught your daughter that language. “Don’t say ‘fuck’, sweetheart.” It obviously was. “Can you help Daddy get the broom?” Heidi zoomed off in search for the broom while Harry thoughtlessly kicked shards of broken china around in attempt to pack the mess together. He wanted you to think he was a good Dad. You knew he was a good dad. But Harry was jonesing for your approval as if it would reverse the divorce papers in the mailman’s hands or stop you from separating your heart and your home.

“Y/N, where is Essex?” Eden looked at you curiously while Harry listened tentatively at the message of your hometown. “It’s where I come from and it’s where you and me are gonna live.” You tap Eden on the knee.

“I can’t find the broom.”

“Harry, you better go help her.” You said.

“Eden, go help your sister.” He tells your son.

Heidi said that you’d be living not too far from London but Harry never thought you’d end up back in Essex. You rarely mentioned your birthplace, and your distinct Essex accent got drowned in loud, screaming concert crowds and lost in London after years of residing with Harry. You’d worn your hometown on your sleeve only a handful of times. Harry vividly remembers Niall expressing doubt with you during drinking games to which you’d responded: “Please, I’m from Essex!”, and it made Harry ponder on whether you were going back there to drink the memory of him away or out of genuine fondness for the place. So Harry doesn’t think and walks over to you, faces inches apart and says, “You look down on where you came from, sometimes. But you have this place to call home. Always.” And you look into his green eyes that remind you so much of emeralds and pretty forests and remember that they are the only place that you’ll truly call home. You feel your heart racing and the clock ticking and his eyes boring into yours in search for an answer, and unsure what to say, you’re relieved for the first time in your life that your children are not around. “I need to go help them find the broom.”

Three months later, a paper comes through right on time. For you, not for Harry. But for Eden and for Heidi who sat in the back of your car ready to live in a town they’ve never been to and their parents never mentioned.

Harry knew this day was about to come, because the letter that came for you a few days prior features your birth name, your full birth name. No Styles, no marriage title, no hint to the fact that you even knew Harry at all apart from the address. The address that was now his, and solely his. Harry starts to feel like a little kid again, and wants to cry on the steps and have you cradle him again even if it’s the last time you touch him. “I will always love you how I do, Harry. I vowed that. This love will keep us through the blinding of the eyes. I’ll love you to the day that I die.” And with that, Harry engulfs you. Because that paper that came right on time meant that your divorce was final and this wasn’t a sick dream he could shake himself from. “I’m wishing you godspeed, glory.” And that’s how you really felt all along. Harry holds your hand with his free one and you let him remove your ring from your finger. He’s crying now. It’s too late. You rub along his back and pat it, and maybe that’s his signal to let go, but he doesn’t.

He can’t believe you’re going back. He can’t believe the town you disowned is your better option over him. You look back at it like it saved your life. “I’ll let go of my claim on you, it’s a free world.” But he hugs tighter.

Taglist: @swiftingday

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prorevenge · 4 years

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He punched me over a fender bender, I destroyed his life.

I was working as a civilian with the US Military Overseas and I lived off base in an apartment complex popular among the US Military. One morning I accidently hit another soldier's vehicle.

Upon exiting the vehicle I noticed that both our vehicles were what you could call a Hooptie. A Hooptie is a old car that is pretty beat up that has been passed around from service to service member and they generally sell for $1,000-$2,000. I also recongized that I was at fault for the accident. It was a very minor accident. His rear bumper was dente din slightly. But I could hear both our cars still running

I approached the driver who had already gotten out and he was in uniform and I apologized and said if it was alright with him I'd like to negogiate a payment that I will pay him in cash and we don't involve the authorties. I wanted to keep this simple. I'll be honest the accident was so minor I honestly expected him to say "Nah man it's good" but even if he wanted some money I'd have paid him. I have always been of the opinion if you have a fender bender and can negogiate agreeable terms between both the parties its best to not involve insurance/police.

He told me he wanted to the call the police, I said we could call the police or we could go on base together and I could give him $300. He said that wasn't enough. So I upped my offer to $500. He proceeded to punch me in the face. It was a sucker punch, he got into his car and took off and in the process nearly ran me over.

Now I had a black box in my car which recorded everything. I went to the provost marshall office on base (The police station) and reported the accident and the assault and showed the MP the footage. Which they used his license plate to track him down. I was also asked if I wanted to involve the local authorties/press criminal charges off base.

Honestly I felt like the soldier would learn his lesson if I let UMCJ (the Military Court basically) handle this and I said "Not at this time" I was told it was an option.

The end result was the soldier in question got 60 days of extra duty, reduction in rank, and and forefeited a portion of his paycheck. Essentially if he dealt with that, this would have been the end of the whole ordeal. Honestly at this point I assumed our little ordeal was over.

Well a few days after his punishment was decided on, which was not long after the incident itself I was in the commissary (Grocery store on base) shopping when the soldier who assaulted saw me and began to insult me. I told him he needed to clam down, that he should learn his lesson, he told me I was a pussy who didn't know how to take a punch I reminded him that I held back on destorying his life he told me he's already been punished and I can't touch him again.

He left me be

A store employee witnessed the entire encounter and I got the employee detail and reported this interaction to his command. His commander told me he had been ordered to not interact with me and would take action. His commander also recommended me I involve the local authorties since this soldier obviously isn't learning his lesson.

So I did. I contacted an attorney. The attorney was unsure if we could succesful sue the soldier and said he would need a cash payment to take the case. Honesetly I was mad and I wanted to teach this guy a lesson. I agreed, it was not cheap.

To keep this story short, we ended up in a court off base. We presented our evidence. The solider in question had decided to represent himself. Several times in the court he had outbursts. The Judge ended up granting me a judgement of approx $50,000 USD. When the judgement was given the soldier called the Judge a son of bitch, and that the Army would cover for him.

So the Judge changed his judgement to $80,000 and the Judge then asked me if I also wanted to press charges aganist this soldier in criminal court. Honestly it was obvious this guy wasn't going learn a lesson, I told the judge I wanted to persue criminal charges in addition to the judgement.

My lawyer later advised me that if I ever wanted to see the money I should persue an international hold. With my judgement its likely that a judge would grant me an international hold. An international hold is basically where this soldier would not be allowed to leave the country until I was paid my $80,000. Also he told me that according to the agreement between the US Military and the host country the US Military would honor the international hold. Basically the US Military would not protect him or move him out of country to avoid punishment.

Honestly by this point I had paid my lawyer thousands of dollars, and I honestly didn't feel like paying thousands of dollars and getting nothing for it. So I said yes I want to go forward with the international hold.

About a month later the international hold was granted, and the US Military was informed of this. 2 months after that the criminal case was over and the soldier was setenced to 90 days in jail. By this point the soldier had been moved onto the base into his barracks by his commander. I remember the day I was informed the MPs handed him over to the local authorties to begin his 90 day jail setence. Did I mention he still owed me $80,000?

I heard nothing for a year, and then one day I get a call from his commander, his commander wants me to make a statement in regrads to the case. I go in and make the statement. During the statement I find out the US Military was in the process of chaptering the soldier out of the US Military. The commander also informed me that he was close to coming up with the money to pay me so he could have the international hold lifted. The commander also asked me if my lawyer would be willing to make a statement.

I contacted my lawyer who also made a statement about the facts of the case.

A few weeks later his ex-wife contacted me, when this all started I knew he was married, guess his wife decided to divorce him. She informed that his ex husband had the money and needed the details on how to pay me. I provided her the details, and a few days later I got the payment and contacted his ex-wife to inform her I had been paid. She then asked me to send a reciept so he could have the international hold lifted and return to the states. I asked her how he got the money, she said he maxed out his credit, and also had family help out. Also during this conversation, I had found out the Army had chaptered him out of the Military

I sent her the reciept and that was the last I ever heard from his side.

TL:DR I get into a fender bender with a soldier, I try to resolve things with him he punches me, he gets UCMJ action, a civil judgment, 90 days in jail, a divorce (I actually do not know if the divorce is connected, but I imagine this case didn't help his marriage) , a ton of debt, and a loss of his career.

I took his $80,000 and bought myself a brand new car and used the rest of the money to put down on an investment property.

(source) story by (/u/LordSThor)

#prorevenge #by /u/LordSThor #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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ahgaseda · 5 years

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made of stone || chapter 13

⇥ synopsis : when you return after years apart to pursue a divorce from your husband, Mark, you fall back into a contentious relationship because your partner still refuses to give up his dangerous fighting career...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, descriptions of blood and violence, alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

“He will never forgive me for doing this,” Jackson sighed, his voice shaking with nerves.

You hissed, “We both know what happens. This time it was a black eye and busted lip. Next time it’s broken ribs and a collapsed lung.”

Jackson groaned. “I know.”

“We know men like Jong-kook,” you told him, disdainful. “They have to get what they want, one way or another.”

There was a moment of silence, the air heavy with foreboding. After the pause, Jackson asked, “What are you going to do?”

You answered without hesitation, “I’m going to offer him something more valuable.”

Jackson slammed his foot on the brakes and whipped the car to the side of the road, putting the vehicle in park rather violently.

“What the hell?” you shouted.

“I thought you were just gonna give the bastard an ass chewing,” Jackson yelled. “If you think I’m gonna let you waltz in there and hand yourself over on a silver fucking platter…”

You quickly interjected, “Jackson, you’ve already told me where he is... I will do this with or without you.”

“Fuck,” he shouted, banging his hands on the steering wheel.

You waited patiently, your fingers laced in your lap.

Both of you carried the same image in mind - of Mark listless on the sofa, battered and bruised. Adrenaline pricked at your heart, reminding you just how easily he could have been taken away from you forever.

Jackson ultimately took a deep breath and leaned back, resigning himself to a decision that only you could make, and put the car back into drive.

Stepping into the abandoned warehouse, you let your anger stifle your fear. The brick and mortar shell was teeming with men, all of whom looked as if they had never worked a legal job in their lifetimes. Resisting the urge to shake your head, you cursed Mark in your mind for getting involved in this level of danger.

“Jong-Kook,” you yelled.

Jong-kook rounded on you, flashing a smile when he realized who had called him. “Ah, the lovely Mrs. Tuan. Radiant as ever.”

Charging toward him, you threatened, “You better have a damn good reason for beating the crap out of my husband.”

Jong-kook shrugged, not concerned in the least, and sighed, “Unfinished business, sweetheart. It’s a bitch.”

Folding your arms, you snapped, “Enlighten me why you’ve got such a hard on for my man.”

Jong-kook stepped closer and you could feel Jackson shuffle to your side. Jong-kook seemed to notice, because his attention left your face and landed on the man ready to guard you like his life depended on it. With a brief smirk, Jong-kook replied, “Your husband owes me.”

You preempted that and you were ready to pay if it meant Jong-kook would leave Mark alone. “How much?”

“His life.”

Brow furrowing, your temper flared as you spat, “The fuck does that mean?”

Jong-kook chuckled when he realized you had no clue what had happened in your absence. He explained, “It means when his beautiful wife left him, he went off the rails. Picked a fight with the wrong guys and got himself landed in jail.”

You were tempted to turn and give Jackson a scathing glance hotter than hell itself for leaving out that minor detail, but instead you growled, “I don’t believe you.”

“I provided him an eyewitness. All lies, of course,” Jong-kook continued. “He got to walk and now he owes me. Unless you want to pay his tab?”

“How much is his life worth to you?”

“A few big fights.”

Your heart sank, but you had a plan. In that moment, it all came to you. Mulling, you finally said, “Mark and I grew up in the same house. We got those same instincts you’re so damn interested in.”

“Same house…” Jong-kook trailed unsurely, then the realization fell over his face. “Foster kids?”

Impatience marred your tone. “You following where I’m going with this?”

“Lady Tuan fights, too?” Jong-kook shook his head in dissension and raised a brow. “I think you’re lying to me.”

You needed him to take the bait. Resorting to your rage, you pulled off your jacket and tossed it to the ground. “Then, square the fuck up,” you shouted. “You roughed up my boy. I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Jong-kook did exactly what you expected him to do - he smiled. “Now I believe you,” was his response as he reached down, picked up your coat, and held it out to you.

Snatching back the jacket, you glared daggers into his face.

“I think we can come to an arrangement that would be very profitable for both of us.”

You asserted, “And you never so much as breathe in Mark’s direction ever again.”

“First things first, you’re gonna show me what you’re capable of,” said Jong-kook darkly, waving forward and calling a name.

Jackson grabbed your arm and whispered shakily, “Don’t.”

Turning around slightly and yanking your arm free, you met eyes with Jackson and whispered, “Hold my phone.”

As you stepped back inside your home not long after, Jinyoung rooted himself in your path, having been anticipating your arrival with arms folded tightly across his chest. “Tell me what you did,” Jinyoung whispered, hissing your name in reproach.

“This is my goddamn house, Jinyoung,” you reminded harshly. “Don’t you dare make demands of me.”

Brushing past him, you angled yourself away from Mark and moved briskly to the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, you shoved your hands into the running water and proceeded to rub at the dried blood across your knuckles.

Mark appeared, shoving the door open and taking a quick, scrutinizing glance of you.

“What did you do?” your husband asked.

You said nothing.

He crowded closer, snarling in your ear, “I get my hands dirty so yours can stay clean. What the fuck did you do?”

You ignored him.

Mark grabbed your arms, whirling you to face him, and after another long look at you, said, “Your fingers are jacked but your face is fine. I take it you fucked somebody up...”

Tearing yourself free of Mark’s grasp, you countered bitterly, “Why didn’t you tell me you got arrested?”

Unnerved, Mark paused, but eventually answered, “I could handle it.”

You rolled your eyes and your tone was seething when you said, “My best friend works for a fucking attorney. You should have called me, you idiot!”

“You left me,” Mark yelled, taking a step back. “Did you expect me to beg you to come home?”

You moved closer, refusing to let him get away. “Yes, I did. Because for whatever reason, I thought you loved me!”

Mark stormed off, but you were livid and gave chase. The boys were still scattered about your living room and all of them looked up to watch the drama unfold.

Grabbing Mark by the hem of his button-up, you cried, “Why am I always being punished? Is it because you know I will always come back to you? That’s not fucking fair, Mark.”

Mark avoided your eyes and huffed, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“But I’m the one who always gets hurt. Do you think if you keep doing this shit what our parents did to us will just go away?”

Mark bristled, wrath filling his chest. “Careful...”

You pleaded softly but with fire, “Mark, let it go. It doesn’t matter how many people you beat into the ground, they’re not him.”

Mark shouted vehemently, “You don’t know anything!”

Stopping still, you tilted your head, watching your husband with sympathy. The next words out of your mouth would break him, you had no doubt. But he had started this fight; how predictable you would be the one to finish it.

With a sigh, you told him, “I took your place, Mark.”

The deep timbre of his voice vanished in an instant. He sounded like a helpless child when he questioned, “What?”

“I owe him five fights,” you explained, ignoring the tense looks of shock around the room. “Then your debt is settled.”

Mark clenched his hands into tightly-wound fists. “I’ll sign the papers.”

You laughed; a laugh so devoid of mirth it made chills run down your spine. “That’s cute,” you sneered.

Mark snared you in his grasp and backed you into the wall faster than you ever thought possible. After all you had been through with him, you weren’t afraid in the least, but you recognized him teetering toward his breaking point.

Trembling, your husband begged, “Go back there. Tell him I will do a hundred fights in your place.”

Your resolve was unwavering. “No.”

“Look at me,” Mark said with a growl.

You obeyed, surveying the gash to his lip and his bruised eye.

“I will never forgive you if you do this,” Mark whispered, defeat written across his face.

You reached up, cradling his head in your hands, and replied, “Then, I guess that will finally make us even.”

chapter 12 ⇤ chapter 13 ⇥ chapter 14

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 imagines #mark tuan imagines #got7 scenarios #mark tuan scenarios #mark tuan fanfiction #got7 fanfic #mark fanfic

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arkangel246-blog · 5 years

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i’m not sure how to go about this, so i’m just gonna start & see where it takes me. i’m going thru some serious depression right now. if i told you everything i’ve been thru you’d more than likely accuse me of lying; no one person could possibly have dealt with so much. that almost sounds like bragging, but believe me, it’s not. i definitely wonder why i’m still here, if not for some ‘purpose,’ but it all feels pretty pointless much of the time.

i’m a 59 yr old mother of 2 sons, 2 almost-grown grandsons, and a lot of what’s eating at me right now is the fact that Mom’s Day (AND my b-day last month) came & went without more than a ‘happy birthday’ post from my daughter-in-law. my youngest son hasn’t had anything to do with me for so long i didn’t expect anything from him, but usually my oldest will at least text me. he did, after all, move me from the okc metro a few years ago 2 hours northeast to be closer to ‘family.’ at this point i’m not quite sure who’s pulling away from whom. i just know i feel like an orphan without children, without family of any kind, and i don’t know how to really change anything. people have said, ‘i’d go camp out on MY child’s front yard until we worked thru things!’ but i guess i’m afraid it might push them away even farther, and i guess i also feel responsible. but part of me is also screaming that i haven’t seen a bar, dated any more creeps, or been 5150′ed in a decade so you’d think that’d count for something, right?

where to begin? i guess we can work backwards, & start with telling you about my last marriage. and i DO mean, LAST.

i met kyle in october, ‘01, and like so many, i really thought i’d found my knight in shining armor. a co-worker introduced us, telling me, ‘he owns an OIL company, just built a new house, and is SOOO nice! you really HAVE to meet him!’ a week later we were inseparable, picking out a ring that shocked even his mother who said, ‘he must REALLY love you, because he’s TIGHT!” (meaning he was cheap. i had no clue... truly). i knew he drank every day, and truthfully, i liked to drink too, so it sorta seemed to be a match made in heaven (or hell). but i soon came to realize he generally started drinking before noon (running a company provided him that option), and nothing i could say could convince him to wait til later in the day. i could never drink every day, & seeing him passed out every night before the sun went down got old fast. when i met his folks i quickly realized it was a learned habit. his mom & dad, who’d handed the company over to kyle & his brother so they could retire, did the same, to the point of being insulted if you didn’t choose to drink with them at family get-togethers, no matter how early in the day. so who was i to go against family tradition?

we hadn’t been married more than a few months the first time he threw what would become his grown-ass-man, 2 yr old tantrum. he jumped up & down, spat and frothed at the mouth through bared teeth, and called me the name i came to be known by almost daily: worthless, piece of sh!t, C-U-Next-Tuesday. my transgression? an ANA autoimmune tests for lupus/sjogrens/scleroderma, (one, or the other or any combination) had come back positive causing my insurance premium to more than triple, which in turn affected the small business’s employees’ premiums.

now any ‘normal’ person would’ve run like hell at that point. keyword being ‘normal,’ of course. it’s funny how you can think a previous husband has been ‘abusive,’ until you actually marry someone who makes the one before seem like Winnie the Pooh. i don’t know the exact moment i started believing i could ‘fix’ him --- that i could do this, that or the other thing well enough that he wouldn’t beat the hell outta me, but in less than a year i’d begun begging ambulance drivers to take me to different ER’s because so many of the doctors were all-too-familiar with me. i know this was after one repeat ER doctor refused to treat me again, storming out of the area voicing loudly, ‘the women who go back to these men DESERVE what they get.’ that time i called a cab, tucked my tail between my legs, & yes, went back home to him feeling like surely i HAD done something to deserve it or that doctor really wouldn’t have said so.

after EMG tests were positive for nerve damage in my arms & legs, & i was put in arm splints and prescribed a ton of neurontin, i moved into the 2nd bedroom. we had gone through a brief separation, both filing for divorce, but a combination of not really having anywhere to go & being so sick (both physically AND emotionally) i found myself back with him (1st of many times). now here’s a word of warning for anybody who might be in similar circumstances at some point. if you reunite with a spouse and drop divorce proceedings, LISTEN when your attorney tells you to make certain he ALSO drops the divorce WITH PREJUDICE; i did not. never in my wildest dreams did i consider that someone who ‘loved’ me so much could possibly put the screws to me, until, a couple months later he called me from the master bedroom to say, ‘SURPRISE! i DIVORCED YOUR ASS on tuesday! how’s it feel?’

during a time when i was almost bedfast he’d gone back to court, had his friends testify against me claiming that i chose not to show up, and yes, the divorce was final. since i had been served months before when we both had filed for divorce and his attorney had dismissed the proceedings WITH PREJUDICE, he was able to completely finalize it without my knowledge whatsover. and it didn’t hurt that his company had an attorney on the payroll.

there were times when i believed he wanted me around as long as he wasn’t responsible for my bills & i didn’t cost him very much. i cooked, cleaned, & took excellent care of endless cats he & a friend continued to bring in. i’ll never understand why he did this. i learned at one point that he had kicked his 1st wife’s small dog to death years before when she went out with girlfriends he hadn’t approved of, so why he was so good with all these cats i’ll never know. at one point we were up to 11 of them, 100% indoors, with white carpet, and in able to do all that needed done i was being prescribed almost every controlled substance there was. i bathed several each month, while he’d toss an old towel on top of any hacked hairballs indicating that i had a mess to clean up.

after our divorce was done without my knowledge i did get an attorney who was going to re-file & make the judge aware of what he’d done, but he agreed at that time to pay for everything until my disability went through, which he did. we hadn’t been legally married long enough that he might’ve been required to do even that much, so i accepted that. he paid for a halfway decent apartment on the southwest side, but even then, he continued to come over when he felt the need to ‘vent.’ i had barely had the utilities turned on when it all went sideways & to this day i don’t know how he didn’t kill me. i knew from past experience he was going to get my phone when he headed towards the bedroom so i tried to get past him before he could. my next thought was, ‘he’s really killed me this time,’ when i found myself sliding upside down on the wall, coming down hard on my head. it’s the only time in my life when i really had that slow motion experience so many speak of. surprisingly i was able to shake my head and found myself alive, slowly able to get up with him screaming, ‘get the F up! i never F-ing touched you!’ his perfect handprint was left in purple on my upper arm by the next day, along with a purple ridge along my back ribs from a ridge between the kitchen and pantry where i’d been thrown. i was able to get him out of the apartment that night, thanking all the powers that be that i was ‘ok,’ only to go down like a ton of bricks the next day in the parking lot. i heard and felt a loud POP in my neck.... like a rubber band popping... and after some maneuvering showed i wasn’t gonna be able to even get on my hands & knees to crawl neighbors carried me back inside and called 9-1-1.

tests showed a bone fragment in the sub-arachnoid space at the base of my skull, & i was in & out of a wheelchair for quite a while. doctors knew my situation, and just sorta avoided the expected questions probably figuring i’d lie anyway. the truth was my disability had yet to come through at that time, and if i’d put him in jail for that i’d have been homeless. HOMELESS, with very limited use of my arms & legs even after all the cervical epidurals allowable and tons of physical therapy. my mother had visited once long enough to assure me that i’d have to go into a nursing home if i stayed in the wheelchair because she wasn’t able (or willing) to take care of me. so i taped a cell to myself at times to keep it within arm’s reach, and crawled to clean the litter box & feed myself for a while, but somehow, i regained the use of everything in time.

except my brain. if i hadn’t proven to be a total idiot already i’d claim landing on my head caused brain damage.

not too long after my disability was approved while in the same apartment i found myself in a different kind of fight. i took trash out to the dumpster around the corner - and i thought i locked the door behind me. i generally did, but honestly, i still don’t know for sure. i came back into the apartment & down the hallway into my bedroom where somebody grabbed the back of my head ramming me headfirst into a full-length mirror shattering it. the next thing i remembered was waking up in the hallway in a mess of goo and yuck, disoriented, trying to figure out what had happened. every movement hurt like hell, and once in the bathroom i saw my face was cut & bruised, & could feel other injuries starting to sting. i cleaned up blood & the broken mirror pieces, took a bath & when i started to realize what had happened, called my son. “It was KYLE, Mom. KYLE did this!’ he said when i told him i thought i’d been raped. i promised him i’d call 911, which i did, and a complete rape kit was done along with over 200 pictures taken. afterwards i called Kyle & told him i’d been raped, and he simply hung up the phone. did he HEAR me? it wasn’t unusual for him to be so drunk by that time of night i couldn’t even understand him, and sometimes he had just hung up on me or passed out on the phone. one thing i DID know is that he was impotent. i had been torn vaginally AND rectally, and he had pretty much zero interest in sex, so i couldn’t fathom how he might’ve been responsible for this. so without another phone call to him, i made arrangements to move out of state nearer my kids into a secure apartment bldg. as we were leaving town my son called him to say we’d left cats in the apartment and i was gone.

you’d think that would’ve been the end of Kyle & me, wouldn’t you? but no. if i’d been smart, you bet, but nobody ever accused me of having good sense.

long before he & i were really over a warrant was issued for his arrest for sexual assault, i had to plead his case & his innocence fearing for my life. i’d shoot up his house and be 5150′ed when i couldn’t quite bring myself to blow my brains out with a 9mm. i’d called my sons that horrific night begging them to tell me they loved me at which time 1 said, ‘you’ve got a wrong number’, and the other said, ‘go for it, Mom.’ it was several more years before i finally did leave with bruising severe enough to require a CT scan of my face. PTSD has been added to my list of maladies & i wake up screaming on a fairly regular basis, the nightmares i can remember too gruesome for words. kyle drank himself to death a couple years ago, and oddly enough, even though i hadn’t had any contact with him in 5 yrs i knew when he died. i woke up middle of the night with something telling me to google his full name, & when i did i found a classified with his sister handling his estate, the company attorney listed as well. when i emailed his longtime drinking buddy i was told kyle had ‘gone off the deep end,’ and that house he’d demanded i keep the white carpet pristine in had been 3 feet deep in beer cans when he was found 5-6 days after his apparent demise. i’m guessing the cats feasted on his meaty parts.

my doctor asked me recently how i felt when i learned of his death, & i told him that i’d cried. the man had never owned a ‘used’ car, or lived in anything except new homes. he’d been handed an oil & gas company right out of college that was barely getting by, most likely because both he & his brother were drunk daily before noon. it was just a total waste of a life that could’ve been used to do so much good. a complete & total waste.

the day i had someone helping me get my things to leave kyle had come into the house from the back alley with his buddy way earlier than usual, and taken off in his buddy’s truck like lightning seeing me packing. i’d already gotten an emergency protective order but with the garage on the alley he’d had no way of knowing i hadn’t just eaten a few extra oxy’s and passed back out (typical) after i kneed him in the groin to get him off me, his hands from around my throat. it wasn’t unusual for kyle & his buddy to drink in the garage daily, after about 3 or so, but it was noon when they’d come in. i remembered sending kyle & his buddy pics of my swelling face the night before, telling them, ‘never again. he’s never gonna touch me or anybody else again.’ my knees went a little weak recalling the usual threats. he’d told me over & over again how easy it’d be for my body to disappear, that it would make something called ‘condensate’ and nobody would ever find me when i was disposed of at a well site. i couldn’t help but wonder if this was that time.

there are probably still people surprised that i finally left and stayed gone, but that was 7 1/2 years ago & somehow the thought of what might have been kept me away. he’d sent me a friend request the summer before his death, which i promptly deleted. DELETE, DELETE, DELETE. no, thank, you.

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[RF] "I Had Six Months to Live"

— When I was told I had six months to live, my husband of 10 years decided to tell me that he's been having an affair for the past 6 months. And that he wanted a divorce. He blamed it on my diagnosis. He left me. Divorced me. Let me keep the house and the car. He wanted to start a new life. And I was left alone.

Two weeks after my diagnosis, my doctor revealed that there was a mistake. I was perfectly healthy and pregnant with my first child. Of course I was overjoyed. And no one could understand why. I was divorced and becoming a single mother. I was kinda sad, but I believed all this happened for a reason. I was becoming a mother.

Once word got to my ex-husband, he came knocking on my door.

"Serinity..." he breathes, reaching for me. I stepped back from his reaching arms, still holding the door.

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

"I heard the news. We're having a baby." he says awkwardly.

"Yeah. I'm having a baby." I say smiling, rubbing my small bump. "What's it to you?"

He looks at me confused. "Well... Aren't we... getting our divorce annulled?"

"Oh? Oh no. I don't want to be married to you." I laugh shaking my head.

"But I don't get it. You're not dying. We are having a kid. The divorce can be-"

"Derek stop." I say holding up my hand. I could not believe he was actually explaining this nonsense to me as if I hadn't already figured it out. "You cheated on me. And admitted to it during our court hearing. You even said you're divorcing me because i'm gonna die and you can't deal with it. Why should i get back into a marriage with someone who can't even stick to the vows?"

His face changed. He looked defeated. "But-"

"No buts Derek. You have another life. I'm sure you've found another woman. And we are never getting back together. You are welcome to be a father to our child, but there is no 'us' anymore."

And with those words, I closed the door. A long sigh of relief escaped my chest as I laid against the door. Reality shortly sat in.

I'm going to be a mom. I thought my life was going to be over in six months. Instead, it's changing forever in nine.

Within six months of my pregnancy, a lot had happened. Derek tried to go and get our marriage annulled. However like i stated, because he admitted to cheating and I no longer wanted to be married to him, it was denied. He then proceeded to deny being the father of my child. So once I deliver the baby, a paternity test will be done to prove it.

I had eventually moved on relationship wise. It was a few months after my divorce had been finalized. His name is Ash. Ash Author. We met at my doctors appointment. He's actually a pediatric doctor himself. We began talking as friends and eventually started dating after about three months. He met my parents and friends. Unlike with Derek, they approved of him. He has an English accent which makes him even more attractive to me. Besides the fact he's kind, compassionate and a perfect gentleman. He's not all perfection, but he's better than my last.

It's approaching my due date and I'm so miserable. Mood swings, drama, work. It's becoming more and more exhausting. I'm so ready for this little girl to exit herself out of my uterus.

"Ms. Mallory?" my assistant Sherri calls. " A Mr. Author is here to see you."

"Send him in please." I say laying back in my chair. I turn to look out my office window and the beautiful view of New York City. Suddenly, there's a soft knock at the door. I spin around to see a huge bouquet of red roses floating in the door way.

"Awww hunny." I say with a huge smile as Ash brings them to me, sitting them on my desk.

"Well a pretty lady deserves a beautiful bouquet of roses." he says with his signature smirk.

"Why thank you. Ooou I see you got dressed up today." I say admiring his navy blue suit he paired with brown shoes and accesories.

"I thought it would be nice to give you some eye candy." He says posing. "What do you think?"

"Mmmm I like." I chuckle. "So are you taking me to lunch because I am star- ahhhh!"

"What?! What?! Are you okay?" Ash asks as I grab the bottom of my stomach.

"Uh.. yeah. I think so." I say, feeling my pants. My eyes suddenly widen as I realize what has happened.

"Ash, um. I need you not to freak out when i tell you this. Okay?" I say placing both of my hands on his shoulders as he hover over me in my chair.

"O-okay.." he responds hesitantly.

I look him in the eyes, taking a deep breath. "My water... just.. broke."

His eyes widen. "Oh.. Oh! Oh we gotta go." he says looking around the room frantically.

"Ash, you're freaking out." I sigh standing up slowly.

Luckily, we made it to the hospital in time for my baby girl to be born. She was a healthy 6Ibs 7oz. She had ten fingers, ten toes and a full head of her like her mother. Derek wasn't there for her birth even after I called him countless times. The test to prove his parternity to our daughter was done and to be ready as soon as he arrived the next day. I had to be hospitalized due to losing so much blood during the delivery.

As I held her in my arms, I still hadn't thought of a name worthy of her beauty. Tears filled my eyes as I rocked her gently. I thought reality had already set, but now seeing this tiny human in my arms, it dawned on me that my life will ever be the same. On the day the DNA test was to be read, Derek and his attorney arrived. His other woman, who he had cheated on me with was also present.

"Why is she here?" I asked feeding my baby girl.

"Why is he here?" Derek asked glaring at Ash who didn't back down. Ash leans over at me.

"Hey, if you want me to leave, I will." He says looking at me seriously.

"No. You can stay. But the mistress has to go." I say pointing to the door.

"Oh and the side dude can stay?" Derek chuckles. "You're unbelievable Serinity."

"I'm sorry. Ash was never a side dude. I met him months after we were divorced. And you have no right to say ANYTHING when you're standing next to the woman you broke your vows with." I respond with a sly smile.

Derek gritted his teeth before looking at the mistress, telling her to wait outside. Once the trash was taken out, the doctor who administered the test walke in with the results.

"Alright. Are we ready?" he asks all of us. We nod our heads and he proceeds to read the result.

"Mr. Derek Mallory, you are 99.99998743453% the father of that beautiful baby girl." he says. Derek near faints at the result. The attorney shakes his head in disappointment watch Derek take a seat.

"There. You happy now?" I ask.

"So you never cheated on me?" He asks stupidly.

"Of course I didn't! Why would I? You were my husband. I loved you. I would never hurt you like that. Seems like I was the only one with those feelings."

Derek couldn't respond. Ash comforted me from my emotional outburst.

"I'm sorry Serinity. I guess my insecurities got the best of me. I used the saddest day of your life to leave you and then the best day of your life to drag you through the mud. I did and still do love you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me, and I ruined it. I'm deeply sorry."

Although I accepted his apology, I had forgiven him long ago and moved on. It was then stated that Derek had given up his rights as a parent so Ash signed the birth certificate as her father.

"Now... what shall we name you beautiful?" I ask as if she can respond. It was then I realized the perfect name.

Genesis Serinity Author.

It's crazy how life changes. Just ten months ago, I was diagnosed with six months to live. And now, I'm holding my very first child. I'll never take life for granted again.

End.

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