004 — LAURA’S ILL-MANNERED CHILDREN

At exactly three PM the next day, I stand outside my matrimonial home, clutching the strap of my bag in a death grip.

Henry had called me an hour ago with news that he’d finally decided to sign the divorce papers, but I was expected to pick it up at our house. I didn’t want to come here but he was adamant.

I can already feel tears pricking my eyes. This house holds too many memories of my dear David.

I finally summon the courage and knock once. The door opens almost immediately and Zeya, our house keeper, appears.

“Who is it…?”

Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me.

“Mrs. Amani! Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you again. How’ve you been?”

The middle aged woman pulls me into a bear hug and I almost burst into tears as her familiar peach scent fills my nostrils.

“It’s wonderful to see you too, Zeya.”

With my best friend in another country and my aunt always busy with work, Zeya was always my only companion on those nights when Henry never made it home because he was too busy with “work” and David was too sick to play with.

She wraps her arms around me and leads me into the mansion.

It’s like stepping into a time warp. Everything is just as I left it on the night I had to rush David to the hospital alone. Nothing has changed.

I open my mouth to speak but just then, a childish squeal pierces the air. I pause.

“What was that?”

Zeya shakes her head, her eyes narrowing with annoyance.

“Well, the boss, he…” she heaves a long sigh. “He returned last night with Laura and her children. They came with a couple of overnight bags so I guess they’ll be staying here awhile.”

My throat tightens with anger. What exactly did I expect from a bastard like Henry? It’s almost like his dead son and I never existed.

Something suddenly dawns on me and I turn to Zeya.

“Mrs Laura’s children, which room are they staying in?”

Zeya lowers her eyes guiltily and that’s all I need to know.

Propelled by a very healthy dose of rage, I stomp up the stairs and follow the squeals until I arrive at my late son’s bedroom. I push the door open and my eyes widen in horror.

The entire room is trashed. I never got the chance to pack David’s things so his toys are scattered all over the marble floors. The Lightning McQueen wallpapers on the walls are covered with crayons and there’s a sharp, acrylic smell in the air. Nail polish.

“What’s going on here?!” I snap, trying hard to control my annoyance.

The room falls silent immediately. Both girls pause their jumping on the bed and turn in my direction. They’re beautiful children, I must admit. They both have their mother’s blonde hair and air of superiority.

“Look, Myrtle, it’s Mr. Wilson’s wife.” One of them says.

The younger twin, Maya, wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“My mommy says you’re a witch and you ate your son for dinner.”

My fingers clench and unclench with helpless anger as I take in David’s broken toys and scattered clothes.

I can’t take my anger out on the girls. They’re just children.

No longer able to hold it in, I push away from the door and go in search of Henry.

“Henry? Where are you? Henry!”

I finally hear his voice when I reach the top of the stairs.

“What’s the commotion all about?” He growls, stepping out of his home office.

He stops in his tracks when he sees me.

“Amani. When did you arrive?”

“You really have no respect for the dead, do you?” I deadpan, not bothering to answer his question.

He rolls his eyes.

“What are you going on about now?”

“What are Laura and her children doing here?” My voice is very calm, betraying the storm that currently brews inside of me.

“Well, Laura is currently having issues with the plumbing at her apartment and it’ll take a few days to get it fixed, so I asked her to stay here for a while.” At my angry stare, he quickly adds;

“Don’t be like this, Amani. You didn’t expect me to leave the poor children to take their baths with freezing cold water, did you? That would be cruel!”

“Okay, Mr. Philanthropist. Well done! But couldn’t you find another room to keep her children? They’ve destroyed all of David’s things before I even got the chance to pack them up. How could you…?”

“Don’t tell me you're this upset because of a couple of toys.” He asks sarcastically. “If it bothers you that much, I’ll buy new ones.”

I open my mouth to reply to him but snap it back shut immediately. I honestly do not know what to say.

“You know what, Henry? Just when I start to think that you might have a bit of human compassion or even common sense, you shock me every single time.

I’m here for the divorce papers. Where are they?”

He takes a step in my direction but I fist my fingers and stand my ground. I will not cower.

“I didn’t sign the papers.”

“Wait, what?”

He’s still coming closer.

“I said I didn’t sign it. I just wanted you to come home. We need to talk, Amani.”

“You tricked me!”

“And what if I did? How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

Henry is standing too close to me now. One more step and my chest will literally be plastered against his.

“You really are a monster.”

His eyes bulge with anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me in that manner!”

He stretches his hand towards me but I edge backwards immediately.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Mrs. Amani. Watch out!” Zeya screams.

Before I can even understand what’s going on, my foot slips on the edge of the stairs and I flail my arms in a useless attempt to regain my balance.

One second, I’m hurling profanities at Henry and the next, I go tumbling down the marble stairs.

Shards of pain explode through my entire body as I helplessly roll down the stairs.

By the time I reach the bottom, my entire body is on fire and I feel dizzy as hell.

The last thing I remember before the darkness consumes me is Henry’s voice.

“Quick, Zeya. I think she’s unconscious. We need to take her to the hospital…!”

***

BHYRON

Macaulay Group of Companies is one of the most successful conglomerate of companies in the United States, and as the CEO, I detest debtors.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ophelia, but I can no longer extend the time frame for the loan. You’ve been owing my company for the past two years. I think I’ve given you ample time to make the payment.”

Ophelia lowers head, her eyes clouding with despair.

“I just need one more month, Bhyron. Please. We’ve barely recorded thirty percent profit ever since the company went bankrupt. For the sake of the relationship between our families, just be patient with me this one last time.”

I clench and unclench my fists, trying hard to maintain my cool.

“The relationship between our families is the main reason I’ve let you owe me twenty million dollars for the past two years. If you were anyone else, you’d be in jail right now.

I’m sorry but this is business. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

The older woman’s eyes fill with tears and bile rises in throat.

“Think of Amani. How would she feel if she finds out that you’ve seized her parents’ company?”

I know damn well that Ophelia is resorting to emotional blackmail, but that doesn’t stop my chest from constricting painfully at the mention of her name.

Amani. The only woman who ever made my dark, dead heart come alive.

I shake my head to dispel thoughts of her. It doesn’t work, so I get to my feet instead.

“Stooping this low will not get you what you want, Mrs. Ophelia. And if you think I give two fucks about Amani’s feelings, you’re wrong. I forgot about her a long time ago.”

Lies. I never forgot Amani. I don’t think I ever will.

Mrs. Ophelia opens her mouth to say something but just then, her phone chimes in her bag.

“Who’s calling me now?” She mutters under her breath as she answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Ophelia, Amani’s aunt?”

The call is on speakerphone and I can hear the man’s voice loud and clear. Why does he sound so familiar?

“Yes. That’s me. Who is this?”

“This is Henry. Her husband. Your niece had an accident. She’s been admitted to the General Hospital. You need to come down here immediately.”

My heart drums wildly against my ribcage as those words swirl around me. Amani had an accident? How? Why?

“I have to go.” Mrs. Ophelia says urgently, grabbing her bag and hurrying towards the door. “Amani’s in trouble.”

I hide my trembling fingers in the pockets of my slacks and stop her just before she leaves.

“Hold on. You didn’t come here with your car. I’ll drive you.”

She gives me an odd look. “Are you sure?”

In response, I retrieve my car keys and walk towards her.

Amani and I were not supposed to reunite like this. I’ve been carefully planning and plotting for the day I’d finally get to see her again, but fate always had a way of fucking up my plans.

If she’s in trouble, then I need to be there. No questions asked.

It’s time to meet my ex-fiancée again after five long years.

I know she hates me… and I don’t give a bloody damn.