Page 13 of Anchor

Maybe it’s because I’m still married….

“Found them!” Micha shouts, making me jump, again, and I sigh.

The boy is as loud as a foghorn. I love him; he’s my life, but he doesn’t know how to use his inside voice.

You’d think I’d be used to it, considering he’s been like it since he started talking.

“Go grab your bag before your dad gets here, Micha,” I say loudly. I hear a grunt in acknowledgment, and I roll my eyes.

He’s becoming more and more like his father by the day.

Taking a deep breath, I pick my phone up and message Andy back, confirming that I’ll see him at the restaurant, not willing for any man to pick me up at the home I share with my son. That done, I put the dishes away, not able to stay still, my nerves tight, and again, not because of my date.

For the past six years, only my mother and my son have known that I’ve been attending law school part-time while working nights at Jimmy’s Girls, a strip club in Brooklyn, out of the Huntsmen MC jurisdiction, and today, I’m taking my bar exam.

I think I know what I need to know to pass it, or at least I hope I do. I’ve worked my butt off being a mom and getting my education, and if I fail this test, God, it will devastate me….

“Mom, Dad’s here,” Micha shouts again making me jumpagain.

Damn, kid….

I hear Travis chuckle, and I swallow hard, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans before biting the bullet. I walk out of the kitchen and see Travis grinning at our son near the front door, and my heart hurts.

It was never supposed to be like this.

We were supposed to be in this house together, raising our son and maybe even having a couple more kids running around, but then he did what he did and ruined everything.

I still love him, I do, and I know it’s something I’m going to have to live with, something I know will never die. He was my first, my everything, my life, but I know we can’t be together. He cheated, he took pleasure from my high school bully who still stays at the club, who he’s around all the time, and yes, we have slept together a few times over the years, mainly when we’ve gotten into arguments over the household bills that I refuse for him to pay for, but it doesn’t mean we’ll be together.

The first time I slept with him again after his betrayal was when he wanted me to keep this house. It was four months after he did what he did, four months of him showing up, begging me for another chance, claiming it was a mistake. I texted to let him know we had an offer on the house but not high enough to leave anything for the pair of us. He showed up and told me he denied the sale and took the house back off the market behind my back. I was hurt and angry, and we ended up in a screaming match before he kissed me, and one thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, my back was against the wall, and my legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into me.

I regretted it as soon as we’d finished, and ended up going to the clinic to ensure he didn’t give me anything, something he’d found out about because one of the clubwhores was there getting their contraceptive shot, and Steal was there with her to ensure she got it. Steal told Travis, and Travis got pissed.

I'm not sure how he expected me to act, to be honest.

Every time, I’ve regretted it right after, not because I gave in but more because he hurt me, hurt us, and broke what we could have had, and each time he leaves, I end up a wreck on the bathroom floor.

I grit my teeth as I look at my husband. Have you ever wanted to kiss a man but also hit them at the same time? Yeah, that is how I feel seeing Travis right now, especially after what I found out this morning.

“Have you got your water bottle?” I ask Micha, causing Travis’s head to shoot up. His eyes come my way, but I try to avoid them, and he instead looks over my jeans and tank right down to my bare feet.

The man is on my shit list big time, and I really don’t want to rip my “husband’s” balls from his body in front of our son, and the fact he is looking absolutely gorgeous just isn’t fair.

His hair is messy like he’s run his hands through it several times, a tight black t-shirt that hugs his chest, his cut, jeans, and boots—then add the tattoos on top of that–

Damn!

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Micha says, slapping his forehead, making me smile, before he rushes past me to the kitchen.

“How you doing, Angel?” Travis asks after a few seconds, and I make eye contact with him. He furrows his brows, most likely seeing my anger, but I don’t answer him as I hear my son’s thundering footsteps.

“Got it,” he says, and I turn and smile at him.

“Okay, go wait in the truck for your dad. We just need to sort out the weekend,” I lie, and he shrugs.

“Alright,” he replies, kissing my cheek before mumbling, “Good luck today, Mom. You’ll do great.”

I soften at his words, feeling so lucky to have this boy in my corner, cheering me on. I watch as he grabs his bag from his dad and runs out of the house. As soon as I see he’s out of hearing range, I return my glare at Travis, my husband, who is refusing to give me a divorce.

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