2.5. Hope

Kiersey.

I'm writing to let you know that I've left. I've had enough time to think this over and I've decided I can't do this. I can't stomach the idea of  fathering another person's child. I'm not going to raise a bastard. And why should I wait for us to have another baby when I could easily have one just as soon? 

I'm going back to Sienna. She came back to me in January, just so you know. I turned her away, but now that your baby isn't mine, oh well . . .

I would probably have waited for you to be back from work but Sienna is impatient, we're flying out in a few minutes. Besides, knowing you, your crying theatrics would only make me more late.

Oh, and, I left your copy of the divorce papers on the dining table. Sign them and mail to the address on the form.

Don't look for me, Kiersey. I'm never coming back.

Best of luck,

Rocco Lips.

Hot tears cascaded down her cheek as she she reread the letter for the fourth time. A sob escaped her lips and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle back the others. A subconscious part of her mind was telling her nobody would hear her bawl her eyes out but she wasn't even listening. 

Rocco's cold words stabbed her heart over and over till it became a shriveled, wrinkled sponge, beating faintly like a dying pet. She picked up the divorce papers again and read through it, gnashing her teeth in anger and hurt. 

After reading the paper the first time in the room, she had checked the closet and bathroom and found all his stuff gone. Same as the other rooms in the house and even the living room she had passed through. Her tiredness had made those missing details escape her notice earlier.

Rocco had left. He hadn't thought twice before divorcing her. He had gone back to his ex-wife, whom she had only met when she had come to their wedding.

The bastard had been in contact with Sienna for four months, and had probably been balling her too! He treated her like she had no brains and hit her at his slightest bubble of anger and he had the guts to cheat on her!

That sonofabitch!

"Fuck you, Rocco," she whispered, fisting the divorce papers in her hands. "Fuck you."

The bastard had probably been looking for a way out of their marriage before, why else would he leave so suddenly and readily go into the arms of his ex? The ex he had bad-mouthed so many times she had started to think he was jealous.

Their apartment was on the highbrow side of the city, and although she could manage the rent on her own, it wouldn't be for long. Her teacher's salary, although it was much, couldn't sustain her living here. The rent fees was a little over seventy percent of her salary and then she'd have to spend more money in the course of her pregnancy. For her baby when he/she was born.

Moving out was the best option. She would move to another part of the town where the pay was more affordable. She might even buy a house, who knows.

For now, she'd send his stupid papers back to him with her own hate letter and focus on rearranging her life. A life without Rocco.

Surprisingly, the latter thought brought peace to her. It was like a cool breeze had drifted directly through her, settling her nerves, easing her headaches, calming her tear glands.

She could do this.

Yes, she could. She didn't have to live in fear of an abusive husband's next lash out. She didn't have to feel the burden of his overbearing self over her shoulder. She didn't have to look up to someone and be treated like a hare-brained teenager.

All this new thoughts were like a whole new revelation to her. She never fully realized how stupid she had been to succumb to her husband and let him treat her anyhow. He had pretty much closed her off from the rest of the world and turned her into something else.

That piece of shit! 

A weight she never knew had been in her chest—in her soul—lifted off, leaving a rory trail of tranquility in it's wake.

Her baby finally had a chance. She didn't have to worry about keeping him/her or not. She didn't have to worry about the poor baby growing up in a dysfunctional family. About it getting used to seeing his mother being hit, or worse, being hit too.

In all of her twenty seven years, she had never felt so . . . free.

She placed a palm over her tummy lovingly and smiled. Her wish had been answered. Her baby was going to grow up and have the best times in the world. She could even get lucky and find another person to fall in love with again. Someone she'd find true and lasting happiness in. Someone who would love her baby as his own and have many more with her.

Picking up the pen beside the paper, she started to append her signature.