My Ex Husband Bizarrely Wants Me Back

That afternoon was calm and warm. The refreshing autumn air flowed in through the windows, creating a low-humidity atmosphere that made one feel a little lazy.

The atmosphere at the time significantly improved my mood, making me feel more at peace as I helped my daughter with her lunch. Julianna, my three-year-old daughter, sat in her chair at the side of the dining table and served herself from the food I had prepared.

I fed my daughter before feeding myself. We did share a tight bond even though she loved her father more.

I am Penelope Patridge. After marrying Alfred Grayson, I became Penelope Grayson. I am twenty-eight years old.

There is more to know about me, but I'll reveal it gradually.

My husband, Alfred, came home while I was having lunch on October 15, 2020. How can I ever forget that day?

I had put my daughter to bed as she typically nodded off after lunch, a common behavior for children her age. After ensuring she was sound asleep, I proceeded to have my lunch.

Alfred walked in while I was eating. His demeanor and the way he entered the house carried an unmistakable aura that day. I felt a sense of unease as he came in, with his expression clearly indicating irritation and dissatisfaction.

I suspected that he had a rough day and was in a foul mood, a really bad one. Concerned, I stood up to attend to him. I thought that perhaps removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie might help ease his tension, but when I tried, he pushed my hand away.

"Alfred," I called out to him that afternoon.

If only Alfred knew how deeply I loved him. If only he understood the sacrifices I was willing to make because of that love.

The way he had treated me in the past four years of our marriage wasn't that bad. Even when he was kind to me, I could sense that he wasn't in love with me, but I endured.

At least, I loved him. Did it have to be mutual?

Yes, it had to be. One-sided love hurt and made a person too blind to see themselves.

Before I could ask what might be wrong with him, Alfred dropped a file on the table and opened it, revealing some documents.

"I know you'll have to take a share of my property, but I'm ready for the divorce. I just need your signature, Penelope," he said, his voice harsh.

Hearing his words and realizing the purpose of the documents in his hands, I wanted to cry.

I wanted to cry and ask him why he would want a divorce. We were doing fine. I never begged him to love me, so why the sudden need for a divorce?

"Why?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper, as I stared at the documents he'd brought out.

"We never discussed this. How long have you been planning to divorce me?" I asked again.

"Since the very first day of our marriage. It should never have happened. I was foolish. I was emotionally distressed, and I didn't know what was going on around me. When I sobered up, I just wanted you out of my life, but I couldn't. I was lonely, and you were there. I took advantage of you, Penelope, and I think it's time we stop pretending. I'll also take custody of our child. We should go our separate ways, and you'll be a free woman, Penelope."

Alfred's words and actions were cruel, and it was even crueler when I realized what was going on. I couldn't believe how he could look into my eyes and admit to taking advantage of me. I was naive and foolishly in love with him.

With a heart full of pain and grief, I addressed him.

"You sound so happy to tell me this, knowing how much it'll hurt me. You just don't understand or appreciate my feelings for you," I said and turned away from him.

"I don't want to sign the divorce. You can't force me, can you?" I added.

Upon hearing my words, Alfred abruptly seized my wrist and pulled me closer to his body. It happened so swiftly that I couldn't resist.

"Sign this document, Penelope. You have to!" Alfred's desperation was palpable in each word and visible in his gray eyes.

"Why the sudden desire for a divorce?" I asked him once more.

"I never loved you, Penelope!" He yelled, releasing his grip on my wrist. It hurt—both my wrist and my slowly breaking heart. What did he mean by this? Why was he suddenly saying all of this after all these years with a child, and why now?

"I saw how you looked at me, how you must have been fantasizing about me. When I was broken, I found you just when I needed someone, and it was all a mistake…"

"Don't tell me, Alfred," I said, covering my ears, unwilling to hear any more. I hated that he was revealing and reminding me that the lovely night I cherished was a mistake.

It crushed my soul, and I found it difficult to breathe.

He knew he had taken me as his woman. He knew he had made me his. He knew he was the first man. Alfred knew that I had never loved anyone the way I loved him, but he neglected everything and pushed me away.

I understood Alfred. My heart loved him, but he wasn't in love with me. I forced—no, I naively entered his life as his wife.

Honestly, I was the foolish one because I was aware that Alfred didn't love me, but I let him show me a new world, a new experience. I allowed him to lift my legs and take me.

It was lovely and so much more. It was the most beautiful night of my life, but apparently, it was just a normal one-night stand to my husband.

When I found out that his family wanted me because of my baby, I didn't think twice before entering the marriage. They all took advantage of me.

I was a fool. I was too naive and desperate to be with him. I was blinded by love. I restrained myself and stayed locked with the people who only wanted to take advantage of me."

Surprisingly, I didn't regret anything. People often feel that when they get hurt by others, they should have never been there, but I didn't feel that way.

There were dark moments, but I chose to remember the beautiful times I had spent with Alfred and his family. The cheerful lunches, the wonderful trips, the fun games we played together, and every positive moment.

I wiped my tears and returned to eating. Alfred was glaring at me for being stubborn, but I ignored him. I hated ignoring him because I knew how it felt to be ignored.

It hurt, and I didn't want to hurt Alfred, but it seemed he didn't care whether I was hurt or not.

Alfred had never considered my feelings, and he had never understood how I felt. If he couldn't understand, there was no way he would care.

Eventually, Alfred left the table, giving off the vibe that he'd be back and that he'd keep trying until I signed the documents.

Would I ever agree to this?