Final decision

Chapter 004

Zara's POV

It had been a day since the death of Charles, my little boy, the only treasure I had. A day of darkness and gloom, crying myself to sleep at night.

When I got married to Armstrong, I was so stupidly and foolishly in love with him that I never imagined a day would come that I would be the one demanding a divorce, not him.

I was so foolish, and I had to pay the price. Charles was gone, my marriage was as well about to be gone. I had nothing left, all I had left was a broken heart, and Victoria was the cause, that bitch.

I woke up angry and frustrated. I yawned and stretched before picking up my phone, hoping to see a text from Armstrong, but there was none.

I scrolled through the endless list of missed calls, but he didn't bother to call. I knew he was shagging Victoria and that bitch wouldn't let him come back to me, though I wasn't expecting him back.

I haven't received any response from Armstrong since when I texted him about our divorce.

I dialed his number, waiting impatient for him to pick up. But unfortunately he didn't. I thought he would come back home, and we would discuss things last night, but he didn't, not even a message.

It was already 9AM and I knew he would definitely be in his office.

I undressed and stared at myself in the mirror with my pants and bra on.

My face was already a disaster, the mascara had split all over my face from the cry. Making me look like I crawled out of a horror movie.

I rolled my eyes in frustration and headed to the bathroom. After a few minutes' bath, I made my way out of the bathroom.

I got dressed in a black gown, I wore black heels, which made me look sophisticated and pointed out that I was grieving Charles' death. Before making my way out of the house with my phone in my hand.

I hailed a cab which took me straight to Armstrong's company. I arrived at the receptionist where I noticed people whispering among themselves and pointing in my direction. That made my heart cling painfully.

A mixture of humiliation and embarrassment ran through my bloodstream. I felt moisture gathering in my eyes, but I blinked repeatedly, forcing the tears back. I can't show my weakness, not in public.

I walked into the elevator and within seconds, I arrived at Armstrong's office door. I took a huge shaky breath before pressing the password. The door slammed open and there he was, Armstrong, on the couch with Victoria using his lap as her pillow.

They were having their best time. I couldn't imagine Armstrong cracking jokes with Victoria at the time he was supposed to be grieving. The man that just lost his son, his only child, a couple of hours ago.

Even though my heart was already prepared for what I was seeing, my heart still twisted painfully.

“What are you doing here?” Armstrong asked as his eyes looked at mine.

“I didn't hear from you. You didn't reply to my text. That was what brought me.”

“Yeah, because I knew you were still in grief,”

“Grief?” I stared at him incredulously.

“Well, I'm done grieving, and I'm serious about the divorce. You are unbelievable, Armstrong, our son died yesterday, and you never called me or came to check on me. You are here shagging this bitch, you should be ashamed of yourself,” my voice dripped with disgust.

“Don't ever call her a bitch, OK?” he spat, his eyes flashed with anger.

I sniffed, nodded my head repeatedly in shock and disbelief.

“Well, the doctor said Charles succumbed to complications from a severe asthma attack, characterized by acute respiratory distress and an inability to regain adequate oxygenation that was what caused his death,” I said as the words tasted bitter in my mouth.

I turned and was about to leave, before I could touch the doorknob, Armstrong grabbed my arms and pulled me back.

“We are not getting divorced. I will be the one to decide when I will divorce you, not you,” he roared.

A sarcastic laugh slipped from my lips as I shook my head in anger.

“I will send you the divorce papers later today, and you will sign them, and you, Victoria, congratulations you both deserve yourselves. I want you to know that you won't get away with this. I will avenge my son's death,” I said before making my way out of the office as tears streamed down my face.

I hailed a cab. It barely packed as I stormed into the car. I sniffed, which caught the cab driver's attention as he turned to me with a curious look.

“Is everything…?”

“Drive, Mace estate,” I cut him off.

He nodded his head before zooming off.

I took a deep breath as I tried to calm myself down. I rested my head on the seat and closed my eyes.

After a few minutes, I heard the car stop. Even with my eyes closed, I didn't miss it when the car came to a halt. I quickly opened my eyes, made the payment and got out of the car.

I raked my hands through my hair before proceeding to my grandma's apartment.

As I reached the door, I twisted the knob and the door was closed. It was a Sunday and, of course, she was definitely in the church.

I took a deep breath and exhaled, I reached for the spare keys by the window where grandma used to hide it.

I struggled a few seconds before the door unlocked, because the lock was old.

It had been like that for over a decade now, and I promised to fix it for her, but I never got a chance.

After my marriage with Armstrong, I became a housewife, and he never allowed me to go out except occasionally.

I suddenly heard a strange voice called my name. “Zara aruthur,”