Ex-husband's Dark Obsession

Lorelai POV

“Little Jimmie will be fine,” said Anderson Ellsworth Vuaghn, my husband. “He’ll be well taken care of by Fatima. The boy already loves her, just look at them having fun.” He nodded toward the living room, where my son was enchanted by the girlfriend my husband had brought home, who had showered him with gifts.

But little Jimmie was only two years old. Anderson couldn’t possibly think that the boy’s fleeting fascination with his mistress meant he’d be okay.

“I’m leaving with my baby, whether you like it or not!” I said firmly. No one would take my son away from me.

Anderson sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable. We were in the kitchen of the small mansion we lived in. He was wearing a tank top and loose sweatpants, having just woken up, his short hair slightly messy. When he crossed his arms over his chest, his well-defined muscles flexed, showcasing his masculine physique.

“I’m trying to find a middle ground here, Lorelai,” he said, sounding like he had little patience for me.

But I was the one who should’ve been out of patience. Anderson had just returned home after months away for army training, barely present in Jimmie’s life because of it. And now, to my shock, he’d come back with this woman who was in my living room, playing and laughing with my son as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Didn’t they realize how disrespectful that was?

“If you’re sending me divorce papers, fine, I’ll sign them, but Jimmie’s coming with me,” I insisted. I was still holding my son’s bottle, as I’d been about to prepare his morning milk when Anderson approached me.

They had shared the same room, him and his mistress. When he arrived yesterday with her, he’d completely ignored my stunned expression as he introduced me to his so-called girlfriend and simply went upstairs with her to the guest room, where they spent the night together. In the same house as me and his son, practically in the room next door.

And now here he was, demanding a divorce out of nowhere, without giving me any plausible explanation, as if I hadn’t been the woman who waited for him all this time, who took care of Jimmie alone while he was off in the army, as if I didn’t deserve an explanation.

It wasn’t even like he needed to do this. Anderson came from an extremely wealthy family, influential billionaires in the city. He already had everything he could want, yet he’d abandoned me to chase his dreams. And now, apparently, his dream was this Fatima. Not me, not Jimmie.

“You want to take the kid? But the question is, where are you going to go with him?” Anderson asked, making me swallow hard. “What, are you going to live under a bridge with him? Is that what you want for your own son?” He let out a sarcastic chuckle, being truly cruel now.

Another laugh, louder and bolder, cut through the air. It was his mistress, approaching. “Darling, don’t be so harsh with her,” she said, nestling into Anderson’s arms.

Her hand rested on the chest of the man I thought was mine until yesterday. My heart faltered with disappointment, but I had no intention of showing weakness. Yet it seemed Fatima noticed, as she gave a cynical smile, looking at me with a hint of disdain. “I’m sure she’ll get a nice chunk of money from the divorce settlement.”

That was the last straw.

It was true that, unlike Anderson, I came from a humble background. In fact, I was an orphan—my mother was gone, and I’d never known my real father. I’d had to fend for myself in life until I met Anderson in college, and he got me pregnant. That’s when my life took a different turn.

“That money would be mine by right, so don’t look at me like it’s a crime to accept it,” I shot back, holding my head high. “But settlement or not, I’m woman enough to rebuild my life, no matter the circumstances.”

Fatima nodded, her eyebrows raised. “Well, look at that, what a strong woman you are! The world could use more of that, right?” she said, but her compliments dripped with sarcasm.

“You’re studying medicine, right? I bet you’ll be quite the doctor! That’s why that money’s so important to you. Take the cash, pay for your studies nice and tidy, and leave Jimmy with me. You’re already a surrogate mother anyway. I’ll take great care of the boy, and his father.” She ran her hands over Anderson’s broad shoulders, practically rubbing herself against him in front of me, her eyes glinting with malice.

And Anderson looked at me with a small, delighted smile, as if he was reveling in seeing me humiliated by his mistress. “Surrogate mother? Did you really mean that?” I asked him, deeply hurt. How could he even entertain the idea that I didn’t care about my own son, the child I carried?

He shrugged. “You know how it is with powerful families,” he said. “You didn’t really think you’d get to keep little Jimmie in a divorce, did you?”

“In other words, you should’ve known what you were getting into,” Fatima added with a fake look of discomfort.

I decided to ignore her and focus on Anderson. “First of all, I never thought we’d be facing a divorce,” I pointed out. I mean, divorce from Anderson? Sure, we’d gotten married for the wrong reasons, but our marriage wasn’t all bad, at least not until now.

“Stop pretending, Leah,” he cut me off, his green eyes flashing with displeasure. “We both know all you ever wanted was for this marriage to end. You hated it from the start, this house, me, having to be a mother and wife so young when you had other plans for your life.

So just see this as a gift. I’m giving you your freedom today to live your life however you want.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, but it was so subtle, almost drowned out by the contempt he felt for me.

Yes, that pregnancy had been a mistake. I’d practically gotten married as a teenager because of it, forced to put my dream of becoming a doctor on hold to become a mother and wife too soon. But despite how poorly Anderson and I had started, despite our reservations, I thought we’d find a middle ground for everything, for our sake and for little Jimmie’s.

But he was too selfish to care about anyone but himself. My dreams could be interrupted, but his? Never. And if he wanted to discard me like I was nothing, that was his choice too.

He was a d*mn selfish, self-centered scumbag who only cared about himself and no one else.

His mistress shrugged. “I’m telling you, just take the money and go live your life—”

But I cut her off. “I already said no one’s taking my son from me! I’m his mother, and I’m irreplaceable.”

Anderson glared at me with anger. “You really want to make this difficult? Fine, let’s see how far you’ll get,” he said threateningly. The hatred in his eyes was practically boiling. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding with fear of what he could do to me, he could literally destroy me if he wanted.

But at that moment, we heard a car pulling into the driveway. A man got out and rushed into the house. “Lorelai! Where are you?” Dylan called, his face etched with worry.

“I’m here…” My voice cracked with emotion, and for the first time that morning, I didn’t have to pretend to be strong enough.

Dylan came to me, wrapping me in a deep embrace that warmed my heart. His familiar, comforting scent brought me a sense of safety and relief. “Oh my God, Lorey… I’m so sorry about all this. I’m here now,” he said, holding me close.

And Anderson watched us with a scowl of rage, the veins in his neck bulging, his fists clenched, and his green eyes now darkened. After all, the man who had just arrived was none other than Dylan Ellsworth Vaughn, his twin brother and my first love.

Lorelai POV

It was still morning, and the autumn chill was gathering outside. Dylan Ellsworth Vaughn had just arrived and was holding me in his arms, trying to take away all the pain and sadness I was feeling, as he always did.

Of course, I had called him as soon as Anderson started acting up. Dylan had been my friend for years, and he was also the first guy I ever fell in love with, even before I met Anderson, creating an eternal bond between us.

He was looking at me now, wiping my tears with his thumb. I was so grateful to see him there when I needed him most. “You don’t have to go through this,” he said. “Go pack your bags. I’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.”

“No!” Anderson exclaimed, his voice sharp and cutting like a honed dagger. “She’s not going anywhere with you. You shouldn’t even be here in the first place,” he added, glaring at me accusingly, as if blaming me for calling Dylan. But what did he expect? He was kicking me out, and I