The Vendetta of the Returned Wife

TWO

Max smiled at an inebriated Gwen, who couldn't stop giggling. Finally, it looked like his little sister was happy after the tragedy that had happened nine years ago, leaving them all sad and struggling to come to terms with it. He and Darren, his younger brother, had tried the best they could to help her overcome it but she'd still ended up depressed and heartbroken. It was hard for his family, but it had been twice as hard for him because his wife abandoned him when he needed her the most. Had he not been busy looking after Gwen and his mother, he would have been the one who fell apart. The thought of Emilia made his stomach churn with anger. He'd loved her so much, but how had she repaid him? Realizing he was gripping the glass he was holding harder than necessary, he loosened his grip, banishing thoughts of that woman. He made a promise to never allow himself to be deceived like that again.

It was a happy day for the family. His little sister had gotten engaged, and that was cause for celebration. Of course, being the overprotective guy he was, he'd refused to give them their blessings until he knew for sure that Albert Knox was good enough for Gwen. He had investigated, interrogated, threatened, and sweet-talked him into doing things that would get him into trouble with the law, but the guy was clean. Which only made Max happy that his sister was a lucky girl for finding someone honest. Someone who loved her and would do anything for her. So, even if he wasn't in the mood to party, he would plaster a smile on his face all day and celebrate with Gwen. It was the least she deserved. Later, when he was alone in his room, he'd let himself continue feeling dead inside.

Assuming Lisandra would leave him alone.

Moving around the crowd, he made conversation with everyone, making sure they were enjoying the party before moving to the next table. Most of the guests were Gwen's friends and colleagues, but he had also invited a few of his closest friends. When he spotted an empty table, he walked to it and placed his glass on top of it. His face hurt from smiling too much, but he wouldn't let them see any other expression. He was genuinely happy for Gwen, but it also reminded him of a time he had been happy. When he'd proposed to Emilia. They were so in love that they hadn't waited to plan a real wedding. She had found a veil at a thrift store and worn it with jeans and sneakers, while he had dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. They had been spontaneous because they couldn't wait for another second to be man and wife. How blind he'd been back then. What he wouldn't give to go back and... He felt eyes on him, and casually looked over his shoulder, thinking it was one of the guests, but it wasn't. Max felt the ground beneath him shift as he came face to face with his estranged wife.

Shock at seeing her there rooted him in place. It had been so long that he thought he was never going to see her again. Christ. She'd changed, but for the better. She looked stunning, so beautiful like his Emilia but also so different. The woman staring back at him had matured. One look at her and he knew the Emilia he'd married was long gone. And then relief flooded through him. Because she was okay and healthy. A part of him had feared that one day he'd get a call telling him to collect his wife's body, and he realized that had been his biggest fear. Her leaving without an explanation.

The anger kicked last. How dare she show up there after what she'd done? Why had she taken so long to go back?

"Hello, Max. " When had she walked towards him? He hadn't seen her moving, but fuck! Up close, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He wanted to grab and kiss her, but he also wanted to strangle her. How could he experience two completely different feelings that were so incredibly strong all at once?

"Who the Fuck invited you?" Lisandra's voice boomed from beside him, making him snap out of his haze. He looked at her, waiting for a reply.

"I don't need an invitation to my house, Lisa," she replied sarcastically. Sounding so different from the woman he knew. Max didn't realize he'd moved, but suddenly his hand was around her neck and he was squeezing. He flexed his fingers, noticing how smooth her skin was. The more he wanted to put his mouth there, the harder he squeezed. As if she could hear his conflicting feelings, she asked,