Chapter 7 : He Realized He Wronged Ella!

George

"Make sure she receives it, will you?"

Those are the last words Ella utters to me as she hails a taxi. I watch her walk away, a new confidence in her I've never witnessed. How is she so different yet very much the woman I married? Her shiny brown hair cascades perfectly around her figure, and she moves purposefully.

I reach out for her and try to open my mouth to speak her name. Where is she going? How is she going to manage without my money or influence?

But that's the problem, isn't it? Clearly, those weren't nearly enough for Ella.

My eyes open slowly to the dark apartment I now live in alone. As I wake, my expression and my body start to grow cold. It was but a dream, yet I'm still living the nightmare of being alone.

I furrow my brow as I slowly sit up, aches stiffening my back as I do. Tension in the shoulders once again. It's been happening more frequently this past week, even though I've always struggled not to hold every piece of stress between my shoulders.

"Fucking bullshit."

I'll have to have Miss Cates call my masseuse. She's the only person who's ever found a way to work out the painful knots that get trapped within me.

As I look around the empty room, my heart constricts, surprising me. Though I dreamed of her departure, Ella's absence still confuses me and shockingly hurts me. Odd, since I'd never truly felt this pain in recent years. She was the reliable wife I'd married. Now?

I have no idea what she is.

I grab the wine bottle from my nightstand.

"You're just tired. It's normal. You work hours and hours and have many people to worry about."

My conscience is correct, but I don't stop myself from taking a long sip of the red wine I'd found in the cabinet last night. It tastes like nothing.

While my marriage to Ella wasn't one I thought about often, I never had any intention to divorce her, either. She was reliable. She was sensible. She was pleasant to live and share a bed with. Yet, here we are, divorced after three years. It was an odd pang and emotional battle that my body underwent last night while I tried to sleep.

"I can't go on talking about being some sad, heartbroken man. The world barely knew we were married!" I try to reason. Yet, that doesn't seem to make me feel any different in the slightest.

To me, Ella is just a woman I can accept as a wife. We'd been married for three years, and things had been FINE.

As I look on her side of the bed, I see the piece of paper I left there when crawling under the sheets. The divorce agreement is mere inches away from my emotionally tattered body.

I pick up the agreement, staring hard as if I expect something to change. As though the universe will bend the words and change the fact that I'm waking up without my wife in bed next to me.

It's enough to pull a long, frustrated gulp of the red wine that has absolutely no taste. I don't know if that's from the numbness I feel moving toward my fingertips or because the wine is as shitty as well water you get in a toxic environment.

"You can't vent to anyone," I remind myself. "No one truly knew about your marriage. Miss Cates didn't even recognize Ella; didn't she say that to you at the office? Who would care? Who would listen? Who would even sympathize for a goddamn moment?"

I let out a garbled laugh, shaking my head. I'm sure it's all a matter of time before things are set in motion again. Ella will live her life, and I'll live mine. She's just an overambitious woman who no longer wants to play house. I let out a long, exhausted sigh. Oh well. That's life, I guess.

I take my bottle with me out of bed and into the bathroom. I might as well get this day over and done with—the first day of the rest of my life.

As I pad into the kitchen, I look around in confusion. Ella would have prepared my breakfast by now, including serving up hot coffee. That's how every morning usually began. But with Ella gone, the servants around me have forgotten the routine. I let my eyes turn to slits as I look around the kitchen area.

Although I am not in the best mood to exactly order a servant to bring me coffee—which should be an obvious desire when waking up in the morning to head to work—I still get someone to do so.

When she arrives with the coffee, I move to put the liquid to my lips when a smell catches my attention. Is that... sugar? In my coffee?

"What did you put in here?" I demand.

"Just coffee and sugar, sir," she says.

I want to growl at the idiot woman. Doesn't she know I detest sugar? Doesn't she pay attention to my desires and dislikes? What kind of servant is she, anyway?

"I'm sorry, did I make a mistake? Do you prefer milk? Or wait, no." She shakes her head and looks visibly upset. "You don't take sugar. Oh, my goodness, Mr. Wickham, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot!"

I don't say anything, but the woman—whose name I don't remember—continues to apologize profusely. I can't even be bothered to respond to anything she says. I'm no longer paying attention to her.

Ella's absence is apparent. So much, in fact, that I start to realize just how uncomfortable I feel. For the first time, something is actually missing. Ella's presence never meant a thing in the past. Yet, here I am, feeling the empty space around me start to suffocate me with its tentacles.

I need a distraction. Yes, that will help me forget about this—a distraction with work.

I leave the spoiled coffee on the counter as I grab my things. I'll go to the firm and let work take my mind off things.

I get myself out of the apartment, though I struggle to find where everything is located. Ella was also in charge of laundry, and I never paid attention to how she organized my closet.

"She'd lay out my clothes, making my mornings easier," I remind myself.

This is pitiful. I mean, really! I am a strong, incredibly successful man. Surely, a few bumps in the road won't stop George Wickham.

After getting to work and hiding away in my office, I slowly start to calm down. This is what was needed. I tell Miss Cates to get me coffee and bring me breakfast and the new cases I'll be spending the day on.

As I go over the legal documents, just an hour into my morning, my computer dings with a news alert. Normally, I barely glance at the news, choosing to return to my work. However, this isn't exactly any news story.

It's about Charlotte and Ella and the car accident.

I click the link quickly and am taken to a video uploaded online in the last hour. What the hell is this?

I skim the article attached to the video, trying to make sense of what it is I'm seeing.

"This morning, a shocking and revealing video was posted online for the world to see. As we heard from singer Charlotte Deluca, she was in a car accident with a woman named Ella, who had been driving and hit someone. Now, however, it seems we're being taken for a wild ride."

A wild ride?

"Last week, Miss Deluca accused this Ella of a heinous crime: a hit-and-run. Miss Deluca was taken to Hartman Sanatorium, where her mystery boyfriend took care of the bills and treatments. It wasn't known who this Ella was, but this video might give us more answers than we expected. Click the link below to see what may be the brutal truth: a hoax brought on by none other than Miss Charlotte Deluca to frame Ella."

I quickly start the video, and I'm taken to two cameras on the street, shown side-by-side from two angles. One is clearly a traffic light camera hanging just above the intersection where the incident happened, while another is from a nearby building.

I stare at the place, trying to assemble where this was taken. Is what I'm reading true?

"It's true. The brutal woman hit this stranger with her car and did nothing to stop and check on her! She allowed me to get injured and ran to save herself!" Charlotte's press release audio plays as I wait for the video to show me what I'm afraid to see.

Ella doesn't hit anyone. I know this because the platinum blonde bob is clearly the driver in the video, and Ella isn't in the front seat. The second angle shows a light in the car's backseat, where Ella must have been. Thankfully, the camera above the car captured what happened. I watch Charlotte drive into a stranger with the vehicle.

I jump in my seat from the shock of watching this play out, shaking my head as I realize Charlotte lied to me. She deceived me, and I believed her at face value.

The stranger rolls onto the dirt road, and I hear Ella scream from the car. I only know of that sound from when she accidentally dropped things in the house, a sound I've grown used to hearing every few months.

Time fast forwards on both cameras, and then, to my horror, the man who'd been hit gets up. As if nothing ever happened.

What the fuck is happening right now? Is this a sick joke?

While the stranger leaves the scene, Charlotte and a second stranger open the door to the back seat of the car. An unconscious Ella is dragged out of the seat. She fainted? She wasn't even awake after the hit.

The two put Ella in the front of the car, strapping her into the driver's seat. After that work is complete, Charlotte pulls money from her purse, and I hear her telling the man to take off, that she has no idea who he is. He does that, and I'm stuck watching Charlotte cross her arms in satisfaction as she's left alone with Ella again.

Sweat forms on my forehead as I wait for what happens next. The footage alone is enough to incriminate Charlotte for orchestrating the entire accident. Not only that, but her false accusations and abuse of medical personnel are enough for her to either pay a hefty fine or even serve jail time.

The footage fast-forwards again, but only for about five minutes before it stops, and the voices filter through the air into the camera's microphone. The footage may be a bit dark, but the audio is crystal clear. In the darkness, Charlotte is talking to Ella from the outside of the car.

"Who do you think you are, Ella? Do you sincerely think George loves you? Don't be naive, God! You're just a tool he married to satisfy his grandmother and the rest of the family. Don't forget you were his scapegoat!"

Blood boils inside of me, and I start feeling my dress shirt cling to my neck.

"So, you're telling me that George wouldn't give you a second glance if I had an accident? How do you think George would treat you while tending to the woman he married?" Ella's voice is clearly shaking, but her resolve seems strong.

"You better prepare to be kicked out of the house by George! Once I accuse you of this accident, there will be nowhere left for you to go and hide, bitch."

I hear Ella's attempt at laughter, but it still sounds strained from the apparent fear. "I advise you not to indulge in such wishful thinking. George will never love you, Charlotte. It's always been that way."

Now it's Charlotte's turn to burst into laughter. Her vibrato sends a shiver down my spine for the first time in all the years I've known her. "Let me tell you what is true and what is not. George loves me, and I know it to be right. You want to compete with me, you little housemaid? You're the one who is destined to lose in the most miserable fashion! I am everything he could want! And you? You're NOTHING."

Ella shakes her head in the seat but doesn't respond. I watch her tremble in fear, but she never lets a single tear fall down her face. She does her best to keep her reserves of strength. I, however, feel my skin itch at this.

"Whether or not you caused this accident doesn't matter. No one will care. As long as I say you did this, as long as I'm the injured party, George will believe me!"

Ella shakes her head. "You're wrong."

"What's wrong, little Ella? Are you angry? I don't expect less. But what can you possibly do about it?" Charlotte leans down and sticks her head in the window, but her voice is still evident. "Who allowed you to foolishly dream of marrying into this world and society? Look at your own pathetic excuse for a status. You're nothing. You're less than nothing. So, tell me. Are you truthfully worthy of George's affection?"

The video fades to black, and I'm left staring at my reflection. I'm irreconcilably stunned. How had Charlotte gotten away with this all this time, and how does it take these videos to bring about the truth?

Where did they even come from?

I scroll down, and see that the video was originally posted from a username called The Orchestration.

It's gone viral, with hundreds of thousands of views and comments as the video continues circulating the internet.

Charlotte's just dug herself a hole so deep she could find China.

The accident investigation hasn't been closed yet.

And now that this video footage has surfaced, one thought comes to mind: things are about to take a very dramatic turn.