Once Your Wife, Now Your Stepmom

Emily's POV

Seated before the desk in the office, the investors were discussing among themselves. I had just pitched a really good deal to them, and I was waiting for their response. Even though I knew too well I had given them an offer they knew they would be stupid to reject, I still waited like I was clueless about their next action. My fingers were tapping simultaneously on the desk. I was anxious.

I checked my phone, hoping to see my husband's message, but there was none. Henry has been out of the country for three days, and in those three days, he has only sent me three text messages.

'Make sure you visit the company today.'

'Don't forget the project I told you about; get it done.'

'Tell me, which is better, diamond or gold?'

My responses to those texts were not acknowledged, but I knew he saw them. But he wouldn't answer if I asked him why, so I waited for him to come back today.

Now fast forward to the present; the investors had just finished speaking with themselves, and they turned towards me now.

"Well, Mrs. Musk, we have all agreed, and we would like to be a part of your project," their speaker said. I beamed with joy.

"I am so glad I could convince you to join us, and it was nice having all of you here. By the way, my husband would be delighted that you made it," I stated. One of the investors stared at me, giving me a questioning look.

"Where is Mr. Musk, by the way?"

"Oh, he went on a trip to Brooklyn; he couldn't make it, but I will send your regards to him." He nodded in response, then they all stood up to leave.

With that, they expressed their gratitude before walking out of the office. Now I took my phone and I called Henry again, but it switched to voicemail.

"Babe, the least you can do is return the calls; it's been three days now; where the hell are you?" I ended the voice message and then strode out of the office in sheer annoyance.

It was my children's school presentation, and I had to be there, but they would have loved it if their father was there, and it hurt even more to know I would have to make up an excuse for why he missed their presentation; at some point I was starting to feel like he didn't care at all.

I took the elevator down to the garage, then towards my car. My reflection showed on the window of my car, making me smile.

For the first time in four years, I was proud of how I looked. The results of my strict diet and exercise were starting to show up. It was hard to get back in shape after the depression that came with postpartum, but somehow I did, and it was one of my greatest achievements.

My hands forked my hair, and my fingertips strolled down the corner of my chin. Insecurity was a killer of joy. A long while ago I had added a couple of pounds and developed a double chin, and Noah, my little boy, had referred to the flap below my jaw as that of a turkey; he was an innocent child, but something in me died that day, but I had to wear a proud smile because he kissed me afterwards, and he called me beautiful.

Grace was older; she liked the fullness of my body when she came to hug me. Henry had demanded I work from home just to stop the propaganda in the media, which I adhered to for years while I battled addiction. I had tried and I had failed several times, knowing that the cause of my addiction was none other than fear.

Stress eating was a challenge; it was as detrimental as cocaine addiction. I had locked myself in a void room just to keep myself away from food for a mere five hours. And after a year of mental torture, I broke free, and I went back because food had become my solace in times of distress and great depression.

So no one knew how proud I was to see my reflection; it was an instant gratification that I now had control over my thoughts and my emotions.

The news had gotten out to the public already, and I had been called to speak on my addiction to food and how I overcame it today. The first hosts were my kids' school, which was why I wanted Henry to be a part of it today. I had gained my confidence, and I wanted to speak about our marriage. How he had been distant, and also the cause of my addiction.

I hit the accelerator, and my engine roared to life while I drove all the way to their school. My notification bell chimed. I was so enthusiastic to get it, I could swear it was Henry because his texts were so rare and had a different ringtone for them.

So I took the phone; indeed, it was Henry. He sent a couple of pictures, but they were all set to view once.

My excitement knew no bounds; I quickly slid up to his chat, then tapped on it, and just like that, my eyes witnessed the unimaginable.

Shivers of flames coursed through my veins; for a second I thought the world had come to an end, and somehow I was trapped in a haze as I stared at the photos before me.

Several photos were being sent, all in the same format; I tapped them consecutively, and all were pictures of a lady in Henry's arms, one where he was on his knees proposing to a lady, some of them kissing, and him between her thighs.

My heart skipped.

I refused to believe what I had just witnessed, so I hurriedly checked for my other phone close by, and I took a picture of them being intimate just to confirm it wasn't some bad dream.

I played the video just below it, and there it was: Henry was on his knees, beside this very lady, and he proposed to her. I watched him stand from where he had kneeled, and he held her beside him, kissing her while she danced and cheered.

The next picture contained a gold ring, the same one he had used to propose to her.

I had no idea what was going on around me at that moment; all I knew was that my heart was beating way faster now, and I could feel the rhythm all around.

'He's my husband now,' came another text. But was deleted afterwards.

My finger jittered, and my phone fell down. I had only realized I had tears in my eyes when my vision became blurry.

'Impossible...' I thought.

I tried taking the phone again to check what had happened, but it had all vanished into thin air.

My heart ached so badly. After a few minutes of panic attack, another notification came through; I hurriedly checked it. It was the teacher from my kids' school.

She wanted me to come early since I would be one of the speakers at the party. I dried my eyes while staring at the rearview mirror; my eyes focused on the road as I exhaled through my mouth.

I wrapped the steering wheel with my fingers, then proceeded to drive towards the school in hopes that no one would notice that my day had been damaged completely.

Minutes passed, and I was in the school. I saw my little girl on the stage; she was putting on a bee costume, and my son wore a knight costume, and I was in the front row, specially prepared for VIP guests.

The moment my daughter saw me, her eyes lit up, and she waved at me.

"Mummy!" She yelled.

"Go, baby girl!" I responded.

Followed by Noah, I waved at him too, then cheered him up.

The musical instrument started, and they hopped and danced around, and I clapped for them, but my heart was breaking, and I knew in a split second I would be in tears.

But rather than actually focusing on what the kids were doing, what came to my mind was, how long? Why did he send me those videos? I was no fool, so it wasn't a prank, so how fucking long! Has it been going on? That was why he traveled? The rings...

Tears pricked my eyes, but I cleaned it. I would not try before my children.

"Whoa, go girl!" I yelled.

After the presentation was done, I was led to the stage to talk. Bile rose in my throat. I wanted to opt out at the last minute, but there were more parents here and more reporters brought by the school. All were waiting for my speech, so I took on the challenge and walked to the stage.

Every word I said felt like a lie, but I kept a straight face. I told them to be good kids and love their parents. I told the parents present to love their kids, and their husbands should love their wives just like Henry loved me and supported me. I told them about my goal to lose weight, and they could see the evidence of my determination.

All I had said was what was true to me until two hours ago, and when I left that stage and everyone cheered for me, I knew for a fact that I was just a step closer to ruining my life and the reputation of my kids.

Emily's POV

I believed I had outdone myself.

The video from the kids' school had gone internet viral. I was told by my personal assistant Claire, who had also taken it upon herself to cancel every request to see me. The last thing I wanted to do was see anyone.

I drove my kids home from school that day, and I went into my room to console myself. With the door jammed, my back sagged against the bed. My chest felt stiff; I was hyperventilating. I reached out for my inhaler, hurriedly opening it, and sprayed it in my mouth. Over three times repeatedly before I found relief.

I took my phone and I watched the video again; this time it made me laugh. I laughed because it seemed like a joke-a very realistic joke-and tears streamed down my eyes. I wanted to text him, but it would be stupid of me.

Damn him... Damn. You

I hugged my knees as everything flashed in my mind.

Eight years ago, before I had met Henry, I had a simple life with my younger sister Joan. We owned a bar our parents left in our name, and we ran it without issues, and he was the son of a multi-millionaire who was known to be wild and adventurous.

Seven years ago, we met at my parents' bar, where I served drinks for the night, and it was like love at first sight. I fell head over heels for him; I could remember that night like it was only yesterday.

We hooked up and we fell in love, and in two months he engaged me, and in a matter of weeks we were together. I didn't protest because I was certain he was the man for me, and his money and status were only a bonus for sheer luck.

But then he confided in me about his family issue, he had told me the deal his father had set with him and his brother Chris and how he had to win his brother in a mindless competition. I was roped in between family wars, and I didn't even get to see their father before he left the country and cut off from both of them.

His father, the famous Hozier Musk, had two sons, Chris and Henry. After a few years of raising them alone without their mother, he noticed his sons had grown greedy for his money, mostly Henry. He told both of them he would only give them his wealth if they could double a particular share in his company in a space of seven years. He promised never to check on their progress until the duration had come to an end.

Henry knew he could not do it; he failed the business and had no idea how to manage his share.

But I had more experience running a bar all my life than he ever had working closely with his father, but I took it upon myself to make sure we won. Fast forward seven years after that very day: I had flipped everything, and I had built multiple businesses at the expense of my mental health.

After the birth of my daughter Grace, I came down with eating disorders, it was the only way I could cope with the trauma in my mind and heart; it was the only way I could face my reality. My body changed, and I was constantly made to work and bring up new ideas every day without my feelings being validated.

Our sex life had dropped; I became a work wife alone; I felt neglected, but I had told him about it, but he was passive with my complaints; our sex life dropped to once a year, and after I got pregnant with Noah, my second child, he didn't look my way again.

Noah was three now, and I could count how many times Henry stared at my body like a husband would stare at his wife, but I didn't complain instead, I worked on myself.

All this and much more flooded my mind as I stared at our wedding pictures. Henry was supposed to come back home today, so I waited for him at home to confront him about his cheating.

He came back home late at night.

The kids were in the living room, and I could hear them cheer for him as he came back. They asked him why he couldn't make it to their presentation at school, and I heard the lies he had told them. I heard the way he said it effortlessly, and I tried to recall how many times he had lied since I met him.

I waited for him in our room in absolute darkness. And as he approached the room, he turned on the light. At my sight, confusion registered on his face.

"Henry, welcome back," I said with a thin smile.

He rolled his eyes, then walked to the closet. "Because I didn't reply to your message for three days. It doesn't mean you should make a fuss out of it; I knew you were busy; I didn't want to disturb you; you should be grateful," he said, then began to remove his clothes from his bag.

His audacity was uncanny.

"Oh, so kind of you," sarcasm coated every word I said as I stood from the chair.

"Yes, exactly, very kind of me. Now I want you to help me do something. You know. Dad is coming back in a month. I want to renovate the house, but I will be out of town for three weeks. I need you to take on the renovation process and get it done. Is that clear?"

If I hadn't seen those pictures of him, I would have worshiped his request like the faithful wife that I was, and I would have done it without questioning where he wanted to spend the next three weeks.

"Did you hear what I just said?" He asked again, but I remained quiet, so he turned and stared at me.

"Emily, I am talking to you; are you deaf?" Annoyance laced his words as he yelled at me.

I smiled at him, then brought out my phone which I had used to take those pictures.

"Take a look at this," puzzled. He took the phone from my hands, and he stared at it. I had expected him to at least be shocked by the revelation, but instead he smiled dreamily at the image on the screen, then tapped a few times before he handed it to me; the picture was no longer there; he had deleted it.

"Yes, I got engaged; Bella must have sent it to you, but that's not the point here. I need the house renovated; get it done in at least two weeks," he said, then went back to the wardrobe. I watched him tuck in more clothes in his bag. It was obvious he wasn't sleeping at home tonight.

All my life, I had been belittled and taken for granted, but his actions were so disrespectful I felt like gouging his eyes out at the spot.

"I am done with the marriage," I said with spite.

He scoffed, then turned to me, "You can pack your things and leave; you speak like I was going to stop you from leaving in the first place. If you think so, then you are out of your mind; I won't be on my knees begging you to stay."

"What?"

He smiled even wider now, with his hands spread wide apart.

"Look around; I have everything; I won! I would inherit everything, not Chris, and you can't do anything about it. You should be happy I let your fat ass stay in my house, no man wants you; you look like a pig now. In a few months, you will be like an elephant. You should be grateful to have a man like me, so if you want to go, you are free, but mind you, my kids won't go with you."

I fired back at him.

"I will take the kids; they are mine!" But he chuckled out loud without saying anything.

"I won't let you take my kids away from me, Henry; they are mine, not yours. I don't need your money, all I want is my kids."

He zipped his bags and wanted to leave, but I was quick to stop him. He pushed me forcefully to the floor, and my head hit the ground. The room spun around me, and just like that, everything went blank.

Emily's POV

Four weeks after that very day, I stood at the table in the courtroom close to my lawyer, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall down my eyes, but I had promised myself never to cry before him again.

"Miss Emily Carpenter, is it true that you had a drinking problem in the year 2012 due to depression and the loss of both parents?"

"Yes, your honor," I responded

"Up until 2017, when you met Mr. Henry, who helped you through your drinking and self-harm?"

"Yes, your honor," I responded.

"Is it also true that you find it hard to control emotions and act aggressively when provoked and have been taken to juvenile court more than once because you were a disturbed teenager?"

"Yes, your honor, but Henry pushed me when I tried to stop him. My bruise wasn't a result of self-harm; rather, it was from domestic violence."

"Miss Emily, you are deviating from the main question; all your claims have no proof; you claimed he married someone else, but there are no pictures, and the same with the physical abuse but no proof too, but if I check these reports here, it is said that you caused self-harm to yourself in the past, and I am right?"

All these were things Henry knew about me, all because I had told him about my past, and he chose to use it against me at the final moment.

"Yes, your honor."

"Aside from your husband's money, what else do you have to support your children, since you have stated here that you won't be taking any of his money?"

"I own a clothing brand, your honor."

"Your clothing brand, which isn't earning much, is to sustain you and your children with the lifestyle they want. I am sorry to inform you that if you want full custody of your children, you need to earn more. This argument is pointless; you are unstable mentally and emotionally without a functioning business."

"My business will kick off, your honor, I am confident in myself."

The only reason my personal business wasn't as great was solely because I had spent my entire time helping Henry grow his own business. And all through the judgment, he took credit for being the sole reason why he was as rich as he was now.

I could already tell I had failed the case, I was not going to have full custody of my children, at least not in a fair fight. Henry and I had filed for divorce, and all I asked for was full custody of my children, because they were all I had, but with all that had just been dug out of my past, it was obvious I wasn't going to have any custody of my children at all.

Henry looked at me with a grin smudged on his lips.

"Miss Emily, I won't be permitting you any custody of these children because it's obvious you can't care for them. When they are eighteen years old and liable to make their own decisions, you can come see them."

My world came to a halt, but I already saw it coming.

The court closed, and I took my things, ready to leave, when Henry walked up to me; his eyes glimmered with joy as he stared at me. He leaned closer to my ear, then whispered,

"I am always one step ahead, baby." I didn't respond, mostly because it was pointless to fight.

My car was open, and it was time for me to leave. I had told my children all I wanted to tell them. In these past three weeks, I had given them a camera in secret, and I recorded all I needed to tell them, they knew I wasn't going to come back home after the final court case. It was our final day in court, and the verdict was given.

The moment I spoke about divorce, I knew Henry would find a way to turn it against me, he had bought the judge, so my effort was pointless.

I cleaned the tears from my eyes.

Then I kissed the pictures of my babies. I was going out of the country, and I wasn't going to return till they were of age to see me again.

"Take me home."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

All along, my eyes were focused outside of the car, and when I finally arrived, my sister Joan was standing patiently at the patio waiting for me with her hands wide spread.

"Oh, baby!" She pulled me in for a hug; she hated Henry so much, she didn't want to see him, so she waited for me back home in tears just to avoid picking up a fight.

"I am so sorry, Momma. I am sorry it had to happen to you," she wept.

I pulled away, then cleaned her eyes. "Hey, don't cry; it's just going to be a few years. I will be fine, my babies will know I loved them, and I told them all their father had done, and they know I had to leave too, so I am happy; this is a sign to start over again." I kissed her forehead, then walked into the house.

She followed me in.

"I cooked your favorite food, come and eat."

"Sure," she said, placing two plates on the table, then began to dish out food.

"Now, what do you want to do? Because Grace is only six years old and Noah is four, twelve years is a long time to wait for them to be of age to talk to you," she said.

Well, I was aware of that, but I wasn't going to stay in the country and wait around. He already made me hate the city as it was, so I booked a night flight out of the country, and my flight leaves in about seven hours.

"I am traveling, out of the country, to start over."

"To where?"

"To somewhere quiet, you will know when I get there."

We feasted for a while, then caught up with each other, but then she had to run a quick business errand, so she couldn't follow me to the airport, and I had to go alone.

My car just dropped me off. I was an hour early.

I sat on the waiting bench while staring at a plane that had just landed. Ripples of cold ran down my spine; this was it-a very big leap in my life-I would finally start over again.

I checked my time again. Thirty minutes before the flight, I was anxiously waiting, but then an announcement was made that my plane had been canceled due to some inconvenience.

"You have got to be kidding me! Seriously!" I yelled, totally infuriated by the sudden disappointment.

Everyone waiting to catch the same flight as me was equally disappointed.

Like my day couldn't get any worse, I just felt like this was the universe's way of telling me to end it all. I called my sister, but her phone was not reachable.

The last thing I wanted was to go back home because I had become so claustrophobic around familiar spaces.

Taking in a deep breath, I began to walk down the aisle. Lost in thought, I collided with someone on my path, causing my bags and phone to fall from my hands.

"Oh, so sorry," the man I had collided with said as he leaned down to pick up my things.

I could barely see his face because he was mostly covered in a beard, and he had a face cap. If he didn't look physically fit, I would have considered him an old man because his beard was gray, and so was his hair.

He placed everything in the other, then removed his cap; his face looked so familiar. I spent the next second trying to decipher where I had seen him. damn! It was Henry's father.

My cheeks flushed. I had no idea he was this good-looking in person. I had only seen him in pictures, never in person.

Whoa...

"Um, I, um." I had no words to say. Should I cuss at him or tell him what happened between me and his son?

"You don't look so good. Are you okay?" He looked genuinely concerned, and I felt so sad about it. What do I do now? He didn't know who I was.