A Sea of Bitter Regrets

Three years after my husband, George Martins, cheated and begged to come home, I cheated too. He rushed home to find me lying on our marital bed. My skin was covered in fresh love bite marks and dark bruises. "George, no wonder you cheated on me so many times. "I get it now. It feels amazing." George's eyes snapped wide. His gaze turned bloodshot. He grabbed my throat and slammed me into the mattress. "Clara, do you really hate me this much? "I came home! I became the perfect husband! What more do you want from me?" He wasn't lying. For three years, he did everything to make me feel safe. He handed over his phone every night. He video-called me every five minutes whenever he left the house. He knew his infidelity made my skin crawl. Every time he wanted intimacy, he scrubbed his body three times and disinfected himself five times. My fingertips trembled. I stared straight into his eyes. "Your body came back, but what about your mind? "Every time you get drunk, you scream Maya's name! Every dress you buy me is a white gown she would wear! “You bring home her favorite roses on our anniversary! Even the anniversary ring you bought me was fitted to her finger! "You cut physical ties with her, but you're forcing me to turn into her!" George's hand shook against my neck. He forced a twisted smirk. "Clara, you have no right to lecture me now. I cheated, sure. But are you any better?" "We’re both trash. We deserve each other." His shameless words turned my three years of silent agony into a complete joke. Exhaustion settled heavy in my chest. I didn't want this marriage anymore. Chapter 1 I pulled on a bathrobe and tossed the divorce papers in George Martins' front. "I just wanted to test your theory. Physical and emotional needs being separate." I smirked slightly. "Turns out, it feels amazing. I don't need you anymore." "Clara!" He shouted my name, his voice laced with raw irritation. "You acted like a psycho for two years to force my hand. Now I’ve cut ties with her, and you’re carrying my child. You're bringing up divorce now?" My fingers trembled around the pen. My composure shattered. "You have no right to lecture me! "Out of all the women in the world, you slept with my father's illegitimate daughter! You knew her mother destroyed my family and drove my mom to take her own life. “Yet you still crawled into her bed on our wedding day!" George paused. He ignored my words and grit his teeth. "Who touched you?" "You don't need to know. It's only fair this way." Five years ago, I lost my first pregnancy to the shock of his infidelity. I went mad trying to find out who the other woman was. George watched me fall apart in silence. He protected her identity so fiercely that I couldn't even learn her name. It wasn't until the anniversary of my lost child that my illegitimate half-sister, Maya Mercer, sent me her positive ultrasound. That was when I learned the truth. He slept with my half-sister. George let out a cold, sharp laugh. "Not going to talk? Fine. We'll do this my way." He yanked my robe off. He dragged me into the bathroom and turned on the shower, spraying freezing water over my bare skin. His cold lips pressed hard against my neck. He tried to rub away the dark marks on my skin with brutal kisses. I recoiled from his touch, grabbed the metal showerhead and smashed it against his forehead. "Get off me!" Blood trickled down George's temple. His eyes darkened as he cornered me like a predator. "Get off you? "Who do you want then? That cheap side piece you're protecting?" I backed away, shivering, but he pinned me against the cold tiles by my neck. His brutal kiss came crashing down again. "Clara, stop pushing me! My hatred runs just as deep as yours!" He bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste spread across my tongue. A wave of overwhelming humiliation washed over me. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. "Don't touch me! You make me sick!" George's head snapped to the side. He wiped the blood from his lip and let out a contemptuous laugh. "Clara, are you done throwing tantrums?" "You hired some guy to stage this whole scene just to get my attention. Why act innocent now?" Stage it? I repeated the word in my head. My blood ran cold. George stepped closer, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "On Maya's birthday, you pretended to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills to force me home for our anniversary. "When Maya got pregnant, you slashed your wrists to make me drop her at the hospital alone. "When Maya was five months along, you stood on the roof of a hundred-storey skyscraper, threatening to jump just to force me to pull the plug on my firstborn." His bloodshot eyes burned with deep-seated hatred. "You've pulled these manipulative tricks so many times. You might not be tired of playing the victim, but I'm sick of it." A deadening chill traveled up my spine. My whole body shook. He remembered Maya's unborn child. Yet he forgot five years ago, when I caught him cheating, the trauma caused me to sink into severe depression and lose our first baby. He remembered Maya's tears. Yet he treated every one of my desperate cries for help as a disgusting, manipulative game. The suffocating agony inside me finally snapped. I grabbed everything on the counter and hurled it at him in a frenzy. "George, we are getting a divorce!" He glanced down at my swollen stomach. He picked up the divorce papers and slapped them against my chest with a bitter sneer. "Clara, I'll be waiting for you to crawl back on your knees." He turned and walked out without looking back, completely certain I could never leave him. I picked up the pen and signed my name on the dotted line. Then, I dialed a number to confirm my departure. George Martins, why are you so sure I'm acting this time? Chapter 2 Ten minutes later, a photo lit up my phone screen. It was a photo of Maya kissing George. Attached was a text message. [Thank you for giving my child his father back.] I opened Maya's social media profile. Her latest update was a video. George was holding hands with a little boy while wrapping his arm around Maya's waist. The child, the one George claimed had been aborted five years ago, was calling him daddy in a sweet, high-pitched voice. My fingers turned rigid as I opened the tracking app on my phone. Three years ago, when he begged to come home, he had installed it on his own device to prove his loyalty. This was the first time I had ever opened it. I checked the history. Over the past three years, he had snuck out to see her one thousand one hundred and thirty-four times behind my back. Every single night I felt guilty for flinching away from his touch, he had left our bed to find Maya the moment I fell asleep. The earliest visit went back to three years ago. That was the day I hit rock bottom. On that day, Maya sent me her ultrasound on the anniversary of my miscarried child, driving me to stand on the edge of a skyscraper roof. George dropped to his knees in front of me with bloodshot eyes, swearing on his life that he would never speak to her again. Yet that very night, while I lay unconscious in a hospital room, he bought Maya and her son a forty-million-dollar mansion on the far side of town. The next morning, he pulled a single red rose from the bundle of nine hundred and ninety-nine roses he had given Maya and placed it gently by my pillow. Hickeys were still visible on his neck. Back then, he swore he got bitten by mosquitoes while picking flowers for me. I believed him. I was such a fool. None of it mattered anymore. I calmly tapped the like button on her post. I even left a comment. [The kid is adorable.] George's call came through a second later. His tone was harsh. "What is the meaning of this?" "It means I'm wishing you well. No need to thank me." George let out a light laugh, instantly regaining his usual cool composure. "If you're so jealous, why push me away in the first place? "You want to regret it now? Too late!" Over the next week, George made me the biggest laughingstock in our social circle. He flew abroad with Maya to host a grand, public wedding ceremony. After returning, he took her to high-society galas, events he had never allowed me to attend. They wore matching custom designer outfits and couple's rings engraved with each other's names, behaving like starry-eyed newlyweds. This time, I didn't lose my mind like I used to. Instead, I took the signed divorce agreement straight to my father, Arthur Mercer. "I will step aside for Maya. "But you must promise me one thing. You will host a grand memorial for the tenth anniversary of my mother's death. "You will publicly clear her name, state that she was your only legitimate wife, and move her remains into the family crypt." Years ago, Maya's mother framed my mom as a homewrecker, leaving her to endure five years of relentless online harassment. Before she died, my mom called me in tears, weeping over and over. “Clara, please believe me. I was never the homewrecker, I'm the legitimate wife.” This was the one thing my mother cared about most. Before I left, I had to clear her name. My father, who doted heavily on Maya, agreed immediately. On the day of the memorial, he kept his word and held a lavish event to set the record straight. Despite being pregnant, I worked alongside the staff, ensuring every detail was executed perfectly. As I walked past my father's study, Maya's soft weeping echoed through the cracked door. "Dad, George, do you think Clara found out I killed her mother? "We were arguing, and I accidentally pushed her down the stairs. I only did it to protect myself!" Maya sobbed pitifully, repeatedly claiming how sorry she felt toward me. My mind shattered. Blood surged up my throat, and I vomited a mouthful of crimson onto the floor. No wonder my mother never ended her life during those five long years of online abuse. No wonder she suddenly fell to her death right after Maya and her mother moved into the estate. She didn't jump. She was murdered. My last shred of sanity snapped completely. I kicked the doors wide open. I slammed my hand into Maya's hair, dragging her down and slapping her hard across the face. "Clara! Have you lost your mind?!" George's expression shifted into absolute fury. He roared and shoved me away with immense force. My lower back smashed violently against the sharp edge of the solid wooden desk. Warm blood instantly pooled down my legs. The child I refused to give up, even if it meant my own death... Was brutally murdered by his own father. Chapter 3 "Clara! Clara!" George stumbled toward me. His eyes were bloodshot. Panic laced his frantic voice. "Don't be scared! I'm taking you to the hospital right now!" I swallowed the iron taste of blood in my throat. I squeezed his sleeve with all my strength. "The baby is already gone. Don't waste the doctor's time." George's eyes snapped wide in disbelief. As reality hit him, raw fury flared in his gaze. He grabbed my chin violently. "Clara! That was our child! "Did you throw our baby away for some random guy you slept with once?!" My brain was a chaotic haze. I couldn't process his words. I stared into his eyes. I pointed a trembling finger at Maya behind him and screamed. "That doesn't matter! Maya is a murderer! "Call the police! I want blood for blood!" He never expected those to be my first words after losing our child. George froze. Slowly, he pulled his sleeve out of my weak grasp. He swiped my phone out of my hand, smashing it onto the floor. "Clara, not every mother is as cold-blooded as you. "Maya raised our child with so much love. Why should I let you ruin her life?" His words stabbed deep into my numb heart. Years ago, when Maya's mother drove my mom to her death, my father refused to even collect her body. It was George who stayed by my side to bury her. He swore that one day, he would make Maya and her mother drop to their knees at her grave. Yet here he was. He wrapped his arm around Maya. Right as my mother's tenth anniversary memorial began, he raised a glass to Maya's mother with a smile. "Mr. Mercer grows more senile with age. He can't even tell a legal wife from a mistress. "My only true mother-in-law is you. No one else is worthy." With that sentence, he nailed my dead mother to a stake of lifelong shame. With George backing her up, Maya’s terror vanished completely. She pointed at my mother's portrait, then turned to point at me. "Like mother, like daughter. A mistress always breeds another mistress. "George and I have a three-year-old child. Yet you’re still using suicide threats just to crawl into your brother-in-law’s bed. "Why don't you pour me a cup of tea? I might let you be the second wife." Raucous laughter exploded through the banquet hall. Mocking glances cut into me like sharp blades. Looking at my pale, bloodless face, George's brows knitted tightly. Before he could speak, Maya glanced at her phone and shrieked, tugging hard on his sleeve. "George! The nanny said Leo is missing! "Clara did this! She hates me for taking you away and killing her mother! "She hired someone to kidnap my baby!" George's expression darkened instantly. He yanked me up by my collar and growled a heavy warning. "Clara, hand the child over. Leo is only three years old. He can't take this kind of terror." Ignoring the excruciating pain tearing through my lower body, I shoved him away in frustration. "I didn't do it!" Seeing my refusal to confess, veins bulged on George's forehead. After a long silence, he set his jaw. He grabbed a bucket of ice water and dumped it over my head. "You forced my hand. If you won't tell the truth, freeze until you sober up!" My weak body shivered violently from the biting cold. I snatched a glass off the table and smashed it against his face, my eyes burning with crimson fury. "I said, I don't know!" Maya fell to her knees at my feet, sobbing hysterically as she slapped her own face. "Clara, everything is my fault! "Please give Leo back to me! I'll do anything you want!" George pulled her into his chest. He carelessly wiped the blood from his temple, his dark eyes locking onto me with cold brutality. "Maya, you shouldn't be the one kneeling. "Clara, since you refuse to speak, kneel here until you remember!" Under everyone's watchful eyes, two bodyguards dragged my half-bare, blood-stained body into the center of the hall. George slammed his foot onto my calf, forcing me to fall into a humiliating kneel. The moment I fought to struggle, he leaned down to my ear. His voice was laced with utter cruelty. "Clara, don't move. "Or I will flatten your mother's grave. "I doubt you want her remains dug up and destroyed on her anniversary.” Chapter 4 I looked up in pure shock, my fingertips shaking uncontrollably. "What are you going to do?" George sighed softly. His eyes held that familiar gentle warmth, but his words were mercilessly cruel. "That cemetery is Martins family property. "If you insist on playing tough, I'll flatten your mother's grave. "I'll make sure she dies carrying the shame of a homewrecker, her ashes ground into the mud forever!" I stared at the man standing over me. It was as if I were looking at a complete stranger. He had personally walked that land with me to pick out the plot. He knew my greatest fear was my mother being humiliated by Maya and her mom even in death. To secure those few square feet of land, he had scoured every inch of the city. He spent three months consulting spiritual advisors just to select that private hill owned by his family. Back then, he held me near her headstone, whispering tender promises. "Clara, trust me. "This is Martins land. Under my protection, your mother will finally rest in peace." Now, he was the very monster cursing her to rot in hell. My knees finally gave out. I knelt numbly before Maya and slammed my forehead hard against the floor. "I swear I didn't touch your child. Please. Don't touch my mother." George stared down at my swollen, bleeding forehead. The harsh accusation died in his throat. A subtle, triumphant smirk curved Maya's lips as whispers flooded the room. "This home-wrecker is desperate. Kidnapping a child? She's just as vile as her mother." "Look at her. She looks like a dying rat on the street. I wouldn't be surprised if she caught something disgusting." "Her mother was a scheming slut who crawled into another man's bed. She's even worse, she won't even spare her own brother-in-law." I remained on the ground, listening in silence. I kept bowing my head, over and over like a broken machine. After Maya had thoroughly enjoyed my humiliation, she gently pulled on George's sleeve. "George, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. "The nanny didn't see him sleeping. Leo was in his crib the whole time." George froze. He looked at my battered, blood-stained state and a flash of panic darting across his eyes. He forced his posture straight and extended a hand down toward me. "Since it was a misunderstanding... "You don't need to kneel anymore. I'll personally handle moving your mother's remains." From an angle he couldn't see, Maya used her status as Mrs. Martins to send a silent text to the cemetery groundskeeper, Mr. Luke. She gave the order to destroy the grave. She smiled maliciously down at me, mouthing words without making a sound. “Five minutes. The explosives under your mother's grave are set to blow.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Gathering every last drop of strength, I scrambled up and sprinted out of the hall like a madwoman. George's hand hovered in empty air. Maya smiled, reaching up to take his hand in hers. "George, let's go check on Leo after this. "The nanny said he's been crying for his daddy." Thinking of his sweet son, George looked away from the door. Suppressing the uneasy knot in his stomach, he gave a firm nod. --- I didn't dare slow down for a single second. When I reached the plot, I clawed frantically at the dirt beneath the headstone. My fingernails snapped quickly. My fingers bent at grotesque, unnatural angles as blood soaked into the topsoil. The next second, a deafening explosion shattered the earth. The blast detonated right beneath the gravestone, blowing the buried urn to pieces. The force threw my weak body backward like a tattered rag doll. My body finally gave out. Warm blood poured out beneath me. A wave of overwhelming exhaustion swept over my mind, dragging my eyes shut into total darkness. Miles away, Mr. Luke dialed George's phone in sheer panic. "Mr. Martins! An explosion just tore through the cemetery, and your wife was right on top of it!”