Chapter Two

"Williams," I murmured quietly, my voice barely rising above a whisper. I inched closer to the secretary, desperately hoping my eyes had played tricks on me. Maybe, just maybe...

He wasn't a man. I longed for a simple explanation, a misunderstanding. Yet, as my husband's secretary actions revealed the undeniable truth, my steps faltered.

My lips pressed tightly together, rendering me speechless. Disbelief clung to me, and the scene unfolded before me like a bizarre nightmare. Not another woman, but a man. I closed my eyes, desperately hoping to wake up from this surreal reality.

When I opened my eyes, the truth hit me like a ton of bricks. Bewilderment engulfed me, freezing me in place. The ground beneath me shifted, and I stood on the precipice of a truth I never imagined.

My husband, married for five years, was gay.

In that agonizing moment, my world shattered. Tears flowed down my cheeks uncontrollably. Emotions overwhelmed me—a storm of hurt, shock, and betrayal intertwined into a tumultuous whirlwind.

A sudden realization struck me, and the weight of it bore down on me like a crushing force, making it nearly impossible to draw a breath. The gravity of the revelation pressed against my chest, and the pain was unbearable. In that moment, I knew I had to escape, to run away from the overwhelming feelings of hurt, betrayal, and pain.

I had been in the room for what felt like an eternity, yet none of them had noticed my presence. Could their absorption in each other be so intense that they couldn't sense another soul in the room? Turning away, I made my way to the door. Tears welled up, clouding my vision, as I fought to keep my emotions in check. They remained oblivious to my departure until I heard my name, 

 "Helen."

The mention of my name halted me in my tracks. The stool I had accidentally bumped must have jolted them from their romantic cocoon. I stopped, unable to bring myself to face them again. The emotions surged within me, and tears streamed down my cheeks. I bit my lips so hard they bled, determined not to break down. Swiftly, I fled the office, propelled by the sting of betrayal and heartbreak.

The stares of my colleagues on the way out were inconsequential; I couldn't care less. Now I understood why he changed the staff when he became the managing director, shielding his deceit from my awareness. I just needed to hold on until I reached my car. Fortunately, I arrived, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror—pathetic and broken.

Resting my head on the steering wheel, I replayed the painful scene in my mind. Tears continued to fall, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself. Suddenly, I heard my husband's footsteps running after me. It seemed he had finally managed to put on his trousers, the bastard finally stepping into his role.

Before he could reach me, I sped out of the parking lot without a destination, driving aimlessly until midnight. When the thought of returning home crossed my mind, the idea of facing Williams became unbearable.

Checking my phone, I noticed numerous missed calls, including some from him. Text messages from my cousin Rose flooded in, asking where I was and what was happening between Williams and me. The realization hit me; he must have gone to her house looking for me. I quickly texted Rose that I was on my way to her place.

Upon reaching Rose's apartment, she was already waiting for me in the parking lot. I felt a pang of guilt—now wasn't the time to be concerned about someone else's feelings. Reminding myself of this, I got out of the car. As soon as she saw me, she rushed over, a curious look on her face. I anticipated her questions, but her words caught me off guard, making tears well up.

“Helen, are you okay?” She touched my arm, pulling me in for a hug.

What could I say? Rose had always been the more mature one between us. Her reaction wasn't surprising. I nodded, knowing my voice might betray me, and I allowed myself to relax in her comforting embrace.

“Let's get you inside,” she said, pulling away from the hug. Together, we entered her apartment.

Walking into the living room, I found the jerk, Williams, waiting for me.

"What is this thing doing here?" I asked with rage and anger burning in my eyes.

"He said he offended you and wants to apologize tonight to save your marriage. He left me no choice, Helen. I didn't want your marriage crash, so I had to let him in," Rose explained.

"Tell him to leave. I don't want to see him here," I told Rose instantly. As my best friend, she could sense the depth of pain in my voice, and she moved to act on my behalf.

"Please, Mr. Williams, leave now," Rose said. But Williams, being the jerk he was, refused to leave. Instead, he fell to his knees, seeking pity, but I was done giving him any.

"Rose, you can't base your decision only on Helen's feelings. I know I've wronged your friend, but our marriage is on the line if we don't talk tonight. Please, save our marriage," Williams pleaded.

I expected Rose to fall for his lies, to consider saving his so-called marriage. A marriage that was never real to my gay husband. Unexpectedly, Rose yelled at him.

Get out, Mr. Williams. Whatever you did to my friend, she doesn't want to see you again!" Rose's anger, a force I'd missed, sent Williams scurrying to the door. Rose, relentless, rushed after him, forcefully pushing him out.

As Williams left, Rose headed to the kitchen. I sought solace in the guest room. The last thing I wanted was questions. But before my head could meet the pillow, a knock echoed on the door.

"Helen, can I come in?" Rose's voice, usually comforting, now carried an unfamiliar weight.

"Come in," I managed. She entered, placed tea before me, and settled on the bed. Her arms encircled me, and I couldn't hold back any longer.

"William cheated on me, with his secretary," the words spilled out. Absurd as it sounded, Rose, aware of his secretary, asked, "Did he get a new one I don't know?" I could only shake my head.

"What!?" Rose's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes, the male secretary," I finally confessed.

"I'm so sorry," Rose murmured, pulling me into a tighter embrace. In that moment, we clung to each other, my sobs resonating through the room.

"What are you going to do now?" Rose's inquiry hung in the air. The good news I'd wanted to share dawned on me, and I saw no reason to keep it hidden.

"Rose, I have to confront him now," I declared after disentangling from her embrace.

"What? Are you serious right now?" Rose's incredulity mirrored in her eyes.

"There's no reason to hide. I have to face him, find out if he ever had any interest in women," I explained. Rose's anger flared, her expression changing instantly.

"You're planning to stay with that jerk even if there's a slight chance he's attracted to women?" Rose's accusation hung heavy in the air, and I nodded.

"You're sick, Helen," she uttered, slipping off the bed and walking away. My attempts to call her back remained unanswered. 

The weight of the situation and the emotional turmoil left me grappling with pain. The road ahead seemed daunting, but I had to make decisions not just for myself but for my baby and my father's company.

After messaging Rose, pleading for her to understand but met with rejection, I sank into the car, ignited the engine, and drove off. Tears blurred my vision, and an ache in my heart intensified with every passing mile. In the blur of emotion, my surroundings became hazy, and eventually, darkness consumed me. 

The next recollection was three days later, my eyes fluttering open in the sterile hospital room. The news hit me like a sledgehammer – a cruel revelation that I had lost my unborn child.

 "How are you feeling?" Rose's question seemed distant. I had been conscious since yesterday, but reality still felt elusive, as if the betrayal of my seemingly perfect husband and the tragedy of losing my baby were part of some cruel dream.

"Did he come when I was out?" I asked Rose, the question that haunted my thoughts since regaining consciousness.

"Who?" Rose pretended not to know, though the unspoken answer hung heavy between us.

"Williams," I whispered.

"No, he didn't show up. No calls, no texts. Silence," Rose replied. Before I could articulate my next inquiry, commotion erupted at the door. Two detectives and a nurse barged into the room, disregarding the hospital protocol.

"Detectives, you can't enter a patient's ward like this," the nurse scolded, but the detectives remained unfazed. The taller one turned to me and asked,

"Are you Mrs. Williams?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice quivering.

"You are under arrest for the death of Mr. Williams and Mr. Andre," he declared. Time stood still; it felt like my ears had betrayed me. Rose's touch and the sound of my name brought me back to the harsh reality of the moment. 

"Helen." The word echoed with disbelief, shock, and a touch of sympathy from Rose.