Chapter 5 Storm

Bernice

I raised an eyebrow, surprised to see him here after our heated argument. Usually he'd disappear for days after we fight, leaving me alone until I'd come crawling back to apologize.

But here he was, waiting for me.

"Out with Cathy, just having a few drinks." I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant.

Fed stood up, his expression darkening. "It's late and you come home stinking of alcohol? Don't you know you're a married woman?"

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh, the memory of countless nights waiting for him to come home from 'work' or 'business dinners' flashing before my eyes.

"How long did you wait tonight, Fed? An hour? Two?" I threw his own words back at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've waited for you for years, and you're never home on time. Didn't you remember you were married?"

Fed looked taken aback, as if he wasn't used to being challenged. "That's not the point, Bernice. You're a member of the Miller family now. Your actions reflect on us."

I rolled my eyes, already over this conversation. "Yeah, I get it. The Miller reputation is more important than a wife's feeling." I turned to head towards the guest room, done with this discussion.

But Fed wasn't finished. He grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. "You're not making any sense. You are so drunk!"

I shook him off, my voice steady despite the alcohol. "I'm not drunk, Fed. I'm sleeping in the guest room from now on."

He looked at me and said impatiently, "What kind of game are you playing now? I told you, there's nothing going on between me and Melissa."

I wanted to laugh in his face. I'd seen him and Melissa in our bed, their bodies entwined in a way that was far from innocent. But instead, I said, "It's not about that. I just need some space. I haven't been sleeping well."

Fed opened his mouth to argue, but I was done with the conversation. I slipped into the guest room and closed the door firmly behind me, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

Leaning against the door, I took a deep breath, the silence feeling like a comforting blanket around me. It wasn't easy against Fed's control, but so far I was holding my own.

After a soothing soak in the tub, I sat down at my computer, the relentless ticking of the clock a reminder of the precious little time I had.

Theoretically, Melissa would orchestrate a fatal car accident to murder me after a year. But I wasn't sure if that timeline would shift with the changes I was making. My top priorities were to divorce Fed and secure my parents' estate. I needed to be prepared in advance.

The next afternoon, I met Taylor at the prearranged café. Clad in a sharp dark gray striped suit and golden-rimmed glasses, he looked much more mature than he had been four years ago.

Taylor was an alum of Cathy and me, a year junior and hailing from the law school. We'd met him at a college concert. Cathy had written him off as a total nerd, but my perspective was slightly different. After all, not every nerd can immediately become a rising star at New York's largest law firm just four years after graduation.

What Cathy didn't know was that Taylor would become even more sought-after in a year, even serving as the legal advisor to numerous celebrities and stars. I remembered seeing news about Taylor in various reports in my previous life.

I admit that this made me more eager to connect with him, and I was surprised that he had responded to my email so promptly. We hadn't kept in touch much after graduation in my past life, and I hoped to rekindle our friendship in this one.

"This is the initial draft of the divorce agreement, along with the information we've gathered on your husband," Taylor handed me a stack of documents.

Fed had transferred a significant amount of assets to his private company, and almost all of our shared properties had been sold. I let out a mocking laugh, "Looks like I'll be penniless after the divorce."

"If we can prove your husband's malicious transfers and other misconduct, the outcome will be in our favor," Taylor said, his tone peaceful and professional.

I nodded, knowing I needed to find opportunities to uncover how Fed had orchestrated everything. Money transfers always left a trail. Closing the file, I said, "Thank you, Taylor, I'll figure something out."

Taylor's eyes flickered for a moment, "Bernice, leaving a bad marriage is the right move."

Though his tone was calm, even distant, I could still detect a hint of concern from Taylor, "Thanks, Taylor. I'm glad we're back in touch."

Taylor returned to his professional demeanor, offering more advice before bidding me farewell. Watching his hurried departure, I marveled at his time-conscious stride, understanding that it was part of what made him a top-tier lawyer.

I missed the days in college when I was busy with graphic design. My professors were confident in my potential for success. Clearly, when I dove headfirst into that obsessive marriage, I had shifted all my energy towards becoming a good wife.

Women shouldn't devote all their efforts to the question of whether a man loves them or not. It blinds us, makes us foolish, and turns us... unrecognizable to ourselves.

At least I've learned that lesson.

I enjoyed my coffee quietly in my seat, basking in the rare moment of tranquility. The shrill ring of my phone shattered the peace like a bomb blast.

"Bernice, why aren't you at home?!" Fed growled through the phone, his voice laced with urgency.

I squinted at the sun streaming through the window, "I'm enjoying my afternoon tea."

Clearly taken aback by my response, he snapped, "You've become incomprehensible these days! Get home right now. It's important." He hung up, his anger palpable through the phone.

Fed's call was like a swarm of bees, buzzing annoyance. Important matters? As far as I could recall, today was no different from any other. Uncertain about Fed's sudden game, I decided to head home and see what the fuss was about.

As I stepped into the grand hall of our mansion, Elina's shrill voice pierced the air, " A wife should be at home awaiting her husband's return, not out gallivanting! "

The sight that greeted me was an instant headache. Fed's mother, Elina, clad in a tight, high-collared knit dress, looked at me with disdain.

She'd never liked me. In my past life, I tried to accommodate all her discipline but failed. I think she simply despised any woman who took her son away. This time around, I had no intention of giving a damn about her lectures on 'how to be a good wife.'

"Elina, you should have let me know you were coming. I could have prepared," I said, taking a deep breath and using all my upbringing to restrain myself from slapping her unsatisfied face.

"Don't play these tricks, Bernice. If I find out you're failing as a wife again, I'll educate you myself instead of Fed." Her tone was downright caustic, baring her teeth at me. Elina had clearly had a bad day, and she sought to compensate by humiliating me. I suddenly wondered how Elina would deal with Melissa if she successfully married Fed.

Fed had parked his car in the garage. He was back. My intuition told me that the stormy Elina had come for a reason. I deliberately poured hot tea for Elina, gathering information being my utmost need now.

"Mom," Fed walked in, bypassing me without a glance, the heavy scent of women's perfume still clinging to him. I rolled my eyes inwardly. He looked like he'd just peeled himself off Melissa.

Fed sat down next to Elina, "What happened? Dad didn't answer my call."

Elina's lips pressed into a thin line, a sign of her annoyance, "Son, there's trouble."

Fed furrowed his brows, a note of unease in his voice as he said, "What do you mean? Mom."

Elina's countenance darkened further, "Aaron wants to have a family gathering this weekend. Your goddamn brother is back!"