He Had Never Seen Eulalia Fall Ill

Percival was like a walking freezer, and as he stood just inches away, Eulalia felt a chill that snapped her awake. She didn’t know where to look as his dark, menacing eyes bore into her.

Suddenly, a bony finger gripped her chin, forcing her to look up. Her eyes were wide with panic.

"Parcy, what are you doing back here?” she stammered.

“I come and go as I please. Do I need to check in with you?” Percival retorted, climbing onto the bed. He pinned her down, not giving a damn about her struggles. His grip on her wrists was merciless.

He could feel her body go from relaxed to stiff as she fought back, but he had her pinned.

Eulalia was freaking out. She’d never seen this side of him before. He was like a rabid wolf ready to tear her apart. The gentle and refined Percival she remembered seemed like a distant memory.

In desperation, she pleaded, ”Parcy, it hurts… please…”

"Eulalia, you make me sick. Your face, your body… everything about you disgusts me,” he sneered. “You don’t deserve any kindness.”

She was rigid with fear, biting her lip so hard she thought it might bleed. His cruel words cut her to the core.

Percival rarely came home, and when he did, he treated her like a call girl, just fulfilling his “marital duties”. She figured he must have had a fight with Evadne, his real love interest, to be here in the middle of the night.

But she didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight. She pushed against his chest, looking for an escape. As she tried to get up, he yanked her hair from behind.

“Ah!” she cried out, ”Percy, it’s late. I don’t want to do this…”

Something about what she said set him off. His face was even more terrifying in the dim light. He forced her face into the pillow.

“Playing innocent now, are you? I know what you’re really like. You trapped me into this marriage, and now you’re playing the saint?”

His words were like daggers. Eulalia was shaking, tears soaking the pillow.

This was the man she had set her heart on, and he was tearing her apart with his words.

Percival looked at her tearful eyes and felt a twinge of… something. Annoyed, he ripped off his tie and bound her hands to the bedpost.

Eulalia was fighting the pain from her stomach cancer. She was swallowing the taste of blood in her mouth, wishing for the pain to end.

He watched as she curled up like a frightened cat, shaking. She looked pitiful.

He never paid much attention to her, but he realized he’d never seen her sick before. She was always so strong, working long hours without complaint.

Her long hair was spread out on the bed, her back slender. Her shoulder blades looked like the wings of a butterfly ready to take flight.

He reached out to touch her, but she flinched away. His eyes narrowed, and he felt a surge of anger.

“You’re usually like a dead fish. What’s with the games tonight? Well, it won’t work!” he snapped.

He didn’t want to admit that she was getting to him. His thoughts turned to Evadne, and his mood darkened even more.

He clenched his teeth. What was it about Eulalia that could cause a rift between him and Evadne?

Eulalia was hugging herself, shivering like a turtle retreating into its shell. She felt so cold, even though the AC was on and she was under the covers. It was as if her heart had been slashed open, the wound festering and poisoning her from the inside.

She was usually good at bearing pain, gritting her teeth and getting through it. But this time, she couldn’t take it anymore. The thought of divorce took root in her heart and spread like wildfire.

As soon as she had the strength, she’d talk to Percival about splitting up. She didn’t have time to try to win him over anymore.

As she passed out from the pain, she heard him say one last thing.

“If it weren’t for your blood type matching Evadne’s, do you think I’d give you the time of day? But you won’t be of use much longer.”

…

When Eulalia woke up, Percival was long gone. She weakly sat up, the covers falling away to reveal the gruesome marks on her neck and shoulders.

She stumbled out of bed, her head spinning. She made her way to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her battered body looked so pitiful, and for once, she felt sorry for herself. Her heart was so full of Percival, and after four years of trying to please him, all she got was a cold goodbye.

If only love could be earned through effort, how wonderful would that be?

She started brushing her teeth, but her throat was sore from crying and begging the night before. She gagged on the toothpaste, and there was blood in the foam.

She was used to adapting, even to coughing up blood. She rinsed out the sink and went to the kitchen.

It was past 7:30. She couldn’t eat, but she warmed up some milk, thinking of the cancer eating away at her stomach.

At the office, Eulalia was going through files, looking at the declining profits of the Clearwater Corporation. She could see the writing on the wall.

She knew Percival was undermining the company behind her back. He was ruthless and efficient, and in just a few years, he’d toppled the Clearwater Corporation from its leading position in the market.

She couldn’t compete with him. His cutthroat tactics were something she could never learn.

She leaned back in her chair, sipping her now cold coffee. The bitterness helped mask the taste of blood.

She looked out the window at the skyscrapers. She needed to get her affairs in order.

Who would take over the company? Her father? Her brother? They’d run it into the ground in no time.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized the best person to take over was her husband, the very man who wanted to see her fail.

Her mood darkened. She tapped on the window, lost in thought.

Her phone buzzed. It was her father.

“Dad, you’re only calling for money, aren’t you?” she said, her voice breaking.

“Just transfer 2 million to my account,” her father demanded coldly.

She gripped the phone tighter. “What do you need it for?”

“An investment. Once I make some money, I won’t need to ask you anymore,” he said, somewhat defensively.