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Chapter 3

Author: Chihuahua
last update Last Updated: 2024-11-23 11:22:13
Harry kicked the young man and gave him a look for being so clueless.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said softly.

I rose slowly, not wanting to lose my temper in front of everyone.

Lionel glanced at me, then at Sandra, but ultimately didn’t follow me.

When I returned, everyone had eaten and drunk their fill and was now sitting on the beach.

Sandra and Lionel sat closely together, their postures intimate. I quietly found a spot in one corner to sit alone.

Harry tried to lift the mood again.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s play a game—Truth or Dare!”

Lionel won the first round against Sandra.

She chose Truth, and Lionel, in a rare moment of generosity, asked, “What’s something that’s made you happy recently?”

Sandra blinked and gazed at Lionel, her eyes full of affection.

“I met a really good man, and in just one day, I got a house and a car. Oh, and he even taught me how to drive a stickshift.”

She threw a smug look at me and raised her eyebrows playfully.

Everyone in the group knew how Sandra had gotten her house and car, but they had turned a blind eye to it.

When she openly brought it up like that, it was another matter entirely.

The atmosphere changed again. Even Harry, who was usually unfazed, looked somewhat uncomfortable.

Seeing that I wasn’t showing any signs of anger, Harry had no choice but to force a smile as he attempted to smooth things over.

“Come on, let’s play the second round! Ah, it’s beautiful Misha’s turn now.”

Sandra chose that moment to punish me.

“Truth,” I said flatly.

Sandra walked over and stood before me, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Let’s make it interesting. How about a dare instead?”

I furrowed my brows, alarm bells ringing in my mind.

“I choose Truth.”

“Come on… I won’t make it too hard for you,” she said, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

“I heard from Lionel that you’re a great swimmer. How about you swim a lap for us to see?”

She stared knowingly at my belly.

“I’m not feeling well, I can’t swim,” I said without hesitation.

Sandra looked at Lionel with a hurt expression, and Lionel frowned in mild anger.

“You’re a star athlete, swimming is your forte. How could you possibly not take up the challenge?” Lionel asked.

“A few days ago, she apologized to you, and now she’s making an effort to be nice again.

“Just swim a lap for her, what’s the big deal? It won’t hurt you,” Lionel said and with Sandra, pushed me toward the beach.

Sandra seized the opportunity to remove my jacket as she opened a bottle of wine and then drank it in one go.

“This one’s for you, Misha. Now let’s see what you’ve got.”

She nudged me toward the water.

“I told you I don’t want to swim. I’m not interested in drinking either, and why can’t I choose Truth?”

Sandra pouted in dissatisfaction, her eyes reddening.

Lionel’s expression darkened instantly.

He suddenly threw the bottle of wine onto the sand.

“Why are you acting so high and mighty? Swimming is your best skill! It’s not like she’s making it hard for you.

“She even took a swig for you! Why are you being so ungrateful?”

I glanced at Lionel who was playing the hero, and then at Sandra who was sobbing softly.

I gave them a cold smile.

“Did I ask her to drink? I told her I didn’t want to swim, but she insisted I do it. Why is she making it difficult for me?”

Sandra’s cries grew louder at my protests.

Lionel’s face turned red.

“Don’t want to swim, huh? Fine, I’ll swim with you!” he spat as he rolled up his pants.

Amidst the shocked looks of his friends, Lionel yanked my hair, dragged me into the water, and forcefully pushed my head under.

A chill seeped from my feet into my skin, and my scalp tingled with the cold.

Seconds later, seawater rushed into my nose, and I choked violently.

I struggled in pain but Lionel still wouldn’t release me.

My eyes turned red as tears and snot flowed freely.

I desperately tried to push Lionel away but he held on.

Just as my lungs felt like they might burst, he finally let go.

At that moment a big wave hit us.

I tried to grab Lionel’s leg, but he forcefully kicked me away.

I was swept into the sea and the cold water engulfed me.

It felt like an eternity before I reached the shore, gasping for air.

Lionel was holding Sandra in one arm, gently comforting her.

“Don’t cry. I’ve punished her.

“She deserves it. I’ll teach her a lesson later.”

He walked over and looked down at me smugly.

“Apologize to Sandra! Take a swig of that wine as punishment! Or else—”

Perhaps it was the crowd’s shocked gazes and Lionel’s forceful stare made me snap.

My eyes burned with anger as I interrupted him.

“Wait to hear from my lawyer, Lionel. I’m divorcing you!”

At those words, Lionel froze, his dark eyes filled with disbelief.

I staggered forward weakly.

As I reached the main road, everything went black, and I collapsed.

Before losing consciousness, I heard someone shouting, “She’s fainted!”

“Call an ambulance! Oh my God, she’s bleeding!” yelled another.

“There’s a lot of blood!”

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  • The Price of Separation   Chapter 2

    I had been hooked up to an IV drip for two hours at the hospital, but when I came out, Lionel’s car was nowhere in sight. I felt miserable, and unable to bear it any longer, I took a cab home. My phone died soon after. That’s when it hit me—he hadn’t come to pick me up. Once, he had been so attentive to me. When had he started pulling away, growing distant and cold? “You blocked me so I couldn’t call you,” I said flatly. Lionel blinked, his anger fading slightly from his handsome face. “I figured you’d be hungry, so I brought you some supper. Beef stew and some hash browns.” I looked at the bowl in his hand. It was just some watery soup with a few chunks of beef in it. It looked more like leftovers from someone else’s meal. Half an hour ago, I saw Sandra’s post on Instagram. The picture showed Lionel in the kitchen, stirring the stew: [Who says there are no good men in the world? Not only did he teach me to drive a stickshift, but when I was hungry, he made

  • The Price of Separation   Chapter 1

    When Lionel Franco returned home, I swallowed a mifepristone tablet—the medication I was supposed to take for the abortion—with a bite of cake. It was my birthday. I had bought the cake earlier, planning to celebrate with Lionel and tell him I was pregnant. I waited until 7 p.m. but he ignored my calls and didn’t reply to my messages. Then I saw Sandra Howard’s Instagram post flaunting a property deed.I couldn’t help myself so I left a comment. Within seconds, Lionel called back—not to explain, but to lash out at me. Before I could explain, he hung up and blocked me. I was so furious that I nearly suffered a miscarriage. When he finally arrived home, he glanced at the cake and the medication on the table. He furrowed his brow.“Whose birthday is it? Yours?” I silently put away the pills and threw the cake in the trash. “No,” I said calmly. “It’s a friend’s.” He exhaled in relief. “I thought so. Your birthday’s September 28th and today’s only the 8th.” Five

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