You were leaning against the cafe counter, waiting for the waitress to hand you your coffee order. Today, for the first time since Rafe had filed for divorce, you’d woken up with a smile. You had finally figured out how to stop him from trying to worm his way back into your life and heart. He’d been relentless the last few weeks with schemes to win you back now that he’d realized the divorce filing was a mistake, and that he wanted to stay married. You’d told Sarah your plan this morning when you’d met her at the cafe, she’d seemed less than convinced that it would work. But you brushed off her concern.

“Don’t look now, but I think your plan is going to be tested” Sarah says, pointing out that Rafe has entered the cafe. You grab your coffee and immediately head for the door, but of course that smirk wearing bastard stops you.

“What do you think of Apple turnovers?” Rafe asks, still smirking, his hand stroking your wrist.

“I think they’re flaky. Like you” you reply with a defiant smile, pulling your wrist away from his grasp.

“Come on, I’ll buy you one.” He tilts his head towards the counter, a flirtatious glint in his eyes.

“No. You know what, Rafe. I’ll have you arrested.”

“For what, trying to ply you with pastries?” He scoffs, that amused smirk backing full force.

“No. For violating a court order.” You look into his eyes, relishing your next words. “That’s right, I went down to the courthouse and filed for a restraining order. You can’t be within 500 feet of me.”

“I’m talking to my wife” he says, his voice taken on that annoyed edge it gets when you make him lose his cool.

“Ugh!” You grimace “Don’t call me that!”

“Well that’s what you are! What am I supposed to call you?” He asks, amused once again as he watches you get flustered.

“Look, Rafe. I don’t want to see you. Don’t you understand that?” You huff, tempted to shake him or throw your coffee in his smug face.

“No, I don’t” He says, smiling at you, like he can’t comprehend the idea of you not wanting to see him or be around him now that he’s decided your marriage is meant to be. He shakes his head, he needs to get through to you. While normally your stubbornness would be a turn on for him, it’s starting to get on his nerves today.

“Then let me clear it up for you. You’re controlling, possessive and disrespectful. And we’re getting a divorce for real. And you know what else is for real? The court order. So leave!” You snap, your hands are clenched into fists from how angry this encounter has made you. You turn on your heel and flounce back to the counter.

“No! I’m not leaving.” He sits down on one of the cafe tables, putting his feet up and crossing them at the ankles, leaning back in the chair with a smirk. “You’ll have to call the police if you want me to leave, baby.”