Rise Of The Discarded Husband

Chapter 3: Divorced.

The sound of the opening door jerked Drake from sleep and he groaned, straightening his stiff neck. He had fallen asleep on the coach while waiting and hoping that Lydia would somehow return.

Lydia closed the door, whistling as she stepped inside. When her eyes landed on him, she stiffened, the sound abruptly drying from her throat. But then, she quickly masked the surprise with a brief cough and frowned at him. “Why're you sleeping on the couch?”

Drake didn't answer. He could only return her stare.

When he didn't respond, she let out a tired sigh and walked over to the sofa opposite him, leaning back with a grunt. “God, I'm so exhausted,” she said. “Come here. Come massage my shoulders,”

Huh? Drake blinked, refusing to believe what he had just heard. Was she kidding him? That the first thing she said to him? No explanation, no remorse, no nothing and she needed a massage just like that? What kind of joke was that?

“Didn't you hear me?” Lydia said curtly. When he still wouldn't move, she scoffed. “Of course, what was I even expecting from an ingrate? I worked my ass off yesterday while you lazied around at home, and now you wouldn't even give me an ordinary massage? Would it kill you to be more understanding?!”

Brushing a hand through her hair, she huffed angrily. Leo was better than this idiot in all ramifications. He always gave her massages and treated her like a queen without her even asking.

“Where were you last night and why weren't you answering my calls? Drake questioned, his tone low and tight. His heart throbbed painfully while hoping that his suspicions about her weren't correct.

Lydia frowned, confused if Drake had suspected something. But then, the worry was gone, quickly replaced by a thick irritation. “I don't understand? I thought I told you I was at my ceremony banquet? My phone went off at one point and I couldn't come home. Why are you interrogating me like a thief? Are you a cop?”

“You were at the banquet throughout the night? Tell me babe, What were you really doing?”

Lydia snickered. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Layla ran a hand through her hair. “This is exactly my problem with you! Always so insecure and insensitive! I just explained everything to you and you think I'm lying? Oh, you think I was with another man? How about you channel this energy into making your life useful?!”

“You don't have to curse me–” Drake gritted.

“Incase you don't know, my big event was yesterday and I had to put a lot of things in place. Stop being so childish and help me out here. I'm not in the mood,”

Instead of a response, Drake brought out his phone and played the video from yesterday. He held it in front of her and watched as the shock gripped her expression. Her body went stiff and she bit down on her jaws. For a moment, he thought he saw something like regret in her eyes.

“I need an explanation, Lydia. Start talking,” He said calmly.

Lydia scoffed. “Oh, so you're monitoring me now?!” She hissed in anger, flinging the phone from his hand and tossing it on the floor. “Is this what it is? You secretly filming me?”

“So…so it's true,” Drake's heart made a painful lurch as the tears stung in his eyes. “You're really cheating on me…?”

“So what if it's true, huh? What're you going to do? Look at you now—how are you even worthy of me? I need a husband I can be proud of, not a servant who only knows how to cook and do laundry!”

Drake scoffed. “Is that your reason for cheating?” He said in a calm tone.

Lydia looked up, briefly startled, but the guilt quickly vanished. “If you say it's true, then it is. Leo is a better man than you. He's more ambitious, while you do nothing but wallow in poverty!”

His jaws clenched hard and that unwelcome, stabbing pain hit his chest hard. “Lydia, you're my wife, and you didn't think of me when you decided to betray me and lie to my fucking face? I've done nothing but love you,”

“Exactly, that's all you've ever done! I feed this family and what has your stupid love contributed in terms of money and good living? Absolutely nothing!”

Drake felt something settle at the pit of his stomach, his heart slamming inside his rib cage when his gaze met hers. Was this the same woman he had loved flawlessly for years. He had shaped Lydia's success with his own hands and now she conveniently betrayed him?

After all his sacrifices, she dared play him like a fool? Money was the root of all evil and Lydia was the perfect example. Funny how she was the same person he was going to tell of his secret identity last night. What a relief he hadn't.

“We're from different worlds, Drake. You have no money, no class, yet you choose to tell me how to live my life? Maybe if you were actually freaking rich, I'd listen to you,” Lydia continued.

“Then let's make it simple then,” Drake forced a wry smile, bringing out divorce papers from one of the lockers and staring at it for a while. After seeing those videos yesterday, he had spent the night thinking that it was some stupid fabricated clips from competitors to bring Lydia down. Hell, he was even going to look into the matter to make sure the perpetrators got hanged.

Funny that wasn't the case.

He bent over and signed his own side of the agreement, before tossing the document at Layla with a stiff expression. “Don't worry, I won't make the news of our divorce public, yet. I understand it's not good for your reputation,”

Lydia stared first at him, then at the paperwork on her laps. Then she scoffed, her face raw with shock. “You're divorcing me?” She let out a low, humourless laugh. “Are you mad?! What makes you think you can drop this bullshit on me?!”

“Sign the papers and let's end this marriage. There's no need to prolong this,” Drake said calmly, his stare firm.

Lydia scoffed, throwing the papers and watching as it scattered all over the floor. “I can see your poverty has finally eaten up your sense of reasoning! Who said you had the right to divorce me, huh?!” She ran a hand through her hair in anger. “You don't get to decide. If this marriage is ending, it'll be on my fucking terms!”

“Lydia, don't be unreasonable–”

“Blame yourself for being so pathetic,” She snickered. “You want to hate me for cheating? Maybe if you weren't so useless, I wouldn't have had reasons to look for comfort elsewhere!”

The words were like a blow to Drake's face and he flinched, his jaws tightening. Why couldn't she just accept responsibility for once?

“Don't be absurd, Drake. You have nowhere to go,” She continued, her face red and sweaty with rage. “You'll literally starve to death on the streets. You have no family, no properties under your name,” She paused, allowing the words to sink in as if it fanned her ego for a minute. “Without me, you're nothing,”

Her words were meant to hurt, but he shook off the feeling and looked at her. “Then let me be nothing. Just not yours,”

The smug grin disappeared from her face and she hissed at him. “Is there a bitch in the picture? How long have you been plotting this with her? And you dare accuse me of cheating when you've been doing exactly the same thing?!”

He brushed her off, the disappointment weighing him down. “Calm down and think this through. I'll be back in three days to get the final draft,” He said, his final words before he walked towards the door.

Lydia's hysterical yell followed him. “If you walk out this door today, don’t even think about coming back! You’ll regret it!”