Page 25 of Anchor

He sighs, replying, “Fuck me, she thinks we could have a scorned woman on our hands, trying to set the clubwhores up?”

“It’s what I should have done,” Heaven mumbles and the therapist leans forward, high-fiving her. I raise a brow, but Dr. Larsa shrugs, and I know I’m going to get my ass handed to me, but maybe this is what Heaven and I need to get back to us—well not the old us, because the old me was a fucking immature idiot.

“Yeah. Have Piston look at everyone,” I reply.

Steal agrees before he hangs up, and I sigh, leaning back on the couch. I lift my left arm and place it behind my girl, my fingers going straight to her white blonde hair curled down her back, the softness easing me.

“Okay, now that you are both here,” Dr. Larsa says pointedly to me, and I give her a sheepish smile. She looks between Heaven and me and asks, “Why don’t you tell me what brought you here?”

I look down for a moment, bracing myself to explain what I did, but my wife, not willing to be meek, states, “We’re here because ten years ago on our first wedding anniversary, two months after I gave birth to our son, my husband fucked my high school bully.”

I whip my head her way in shock, my mouth opening a little. What the fuck does she mean, high school bully?

Heaven ignores me and says, “He wanted me to come to the clubhouse to celebrate him patching in, forgetting our anniversary when we had originally planned to stay in. I wasbarely sleeping, my breasts hurt like mad, I smelled bad, and all he cared about was himself, and yet he tried to turn it around on me like I was the selfish one after pushing his child out of a hole the size of a pea.”

I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat at the resentment sloughing off her in waves.

Dr. Larsa asks, “And how did you find out?”

Heaven huffs. “I hated that we argued. I was hormonal and emotional, and all I wanted was a cuddle from my husband, so I left our two-month-old for the first time with a fourteen-year-old sitter, and went to the clubhouse. A brother hit on me, not knowing Travis was even married.” I flinch.

That was the day I was going to tell the brothers about us….

Heaven continues, “He told me that if I wasn’t into threesomes, then I had to wait; then he showed me which room was Travis’s and, surprise-surprise, my husband was screwing the girl who bullied me for the last year of my high school, pleasure on his face, while he was grunting about how sex hadn’t felt that good in ages.”

I hear the tears in my girl’s voice, but I don’t look at her, too fucking ashamed of my actions, even after all these years.

“Anchor, were you aware the girl you cheated with was her high school bully?” Dr. Larsa asks, and I shake my head.

Heaven adds, “I never told him. I didn’t want him involved in the petty drama she was causing, knowing he loved me. It didn’t matter what she was doing because, at the end of the day, I went home to him—until he did what he did anyway.” Heaven pauses for a moment before she says, “I filed for divorce that samenight I caught him, and ever since, he refuses to sign. Whenever we see a judge, my petition is denied.”

I add, “I love my wife. I made a huge mistake and lost her trust, but I know she loves me, and I know we can have a future together.”

Dr. Larsa nods and then reminds me, “But she doesn’t want a future; she continues to petition for a divorce.”

I scowl and snap, “She does. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have accepted me in her bed a few times a month for ten years, but something has been holding her back. I know she still sees what I did in her mind, still hears my words, and despite that, she still has the look of love in her eyes when she looks at me. Over the years, the pain has slowly started to fade but she’s still pushing me away.”

Dr. Larsa writes something down, then looks at my wife and asks, “We started talking a little about your hesitation with accepting your marriage before Anchor arrived. Can you explain what is holding you back? I can see it’s not the emotional pain he put you through with his decisions, but more mental. What clicks in your head to continue down the divorce route?”

I look at my wife and see her looking down at her hands on her lap, and I hold my breath, waiting.

“Mainly because of my mother,” she admits after a few seconds of silence, and my mouth parts in shock. Heaven keeps her eyes on the doctor as she continues, “Growing up, my mom had a revolving door of men, and had a certain outlook on life where they were concerned.”

“Explain your childhood for me,” Dr. Larsa asks gently.

Heaven takes a deep breath before stating, “It sucked,” shocking me.

She’s never told me much about her childhood, only that her mom dated a lot and forced her to move around.

“I love my mom, I do. You only get one and have to cherish her, but she was selfish and lazy. She wanted to be waited on hand and foot, always relying on a man to keep the clothes on our backs or the food in our stomachs. When my father cheated on her and left with his mistress, she hung onto man after man. She didn’t care what they looked like or how old they were as long as they paid her bills, but as soon as they strayed or ended things, instead of acting like a normal person during a breakup, she’d force me to pack my stuff up after emptying their wallets. We moved so many times, I lost count of how many homes I lived in growing up or how many schools I had to attend.”

“And how did you manage school?” the doctor asks, and my girl shrugs.

“I ended up doing a lot of online schoolwork, so I didn’t get behind, and most of the time, the teachers didn’t even realize that I had the grades to skip their classes. When I first met Travis, the math teacher propositioned me, saying he’d help me pass his class, not realizing I was only one test away from passing it anyway, meaning I didn’t require it my senior year.”

I tense in my seat, and anger courses through me, but I keep quiet as Heaven continues, “Growing up, I was taught men are pigs; Mom drilled it into me, and at times, I believed her, especially when her ‘boyfriends’ hit on me or tried to assault me.”

Mother—My anger builds.

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