Chapter 5
One time, I had a high fever in the Middle of the night. I was barely conscious, but didn’t think much of it. I just wrapped Myself in the blanket, planning to tough it out until morning.
Anthony came out of his study, saw Me curled up in a ball, and without saying a word, pulled me out of the blanket, threw his coat over me, and took me straight to the hospital.
On the way, he stayed silent, but every time we stopped at a red light, he’d reach over and check My forehead.
He stayed with me in the ER for IV drips until after three in the Morning. The next day, he canceled all his Meetings and social events to stay home and take care of Me.
Every few hours, he’d bring me water and Medicine, and even brought Meals right to My bedside. After that, whenever it rained, he’d always drive over himself to pick me up.
Another time, I was suffering from cramps during my period, but I still had a mountain of paperwork to get through.
Anthony saw Me struggling, took the papers right out of my hands, and after a while, came back with a cup of hot brown sugar water, pressing it into my palm. He settled onto the couch, patted his lap, and gestured for me to rest my head there.
He pulled a blanket over me. Once I was settled, he picked up my stack of papers and started flipping through them, page by page.
In those moments, I couldn’t help but think Maybe Anthony cared about me.
I must be special to him, right? Otherwise, who would go out of their way to do all this for Me?
I hadn’t even finished packing when Anthony came back.
I heard the door open, but I didn’t turn around. He stood behind me for a long while, then tapped the doorframe softly.
“Where did you go last night?” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t gotten any real sleep in days.
When I kept ignoring him, just stuffing clothes into the suitcase, his frustration finally broke through.
“You’re leaving?” He stepped closer, his tone grew heavy. “Where are you going?”
I stuffed the last piece of clothing into the suitcase and pulled the zipper shut.
“Kayla, you didn’t come home last night, and now you’re just packing up. Am I still your husband to you?” he said.
He slammed his hand down on the suitcase, hard.
“I’m talking to you,” he said, his chest heaving. “Do you even care about this Marriage?”
I looked up at him.
He was still in his suit and tie, looking all put-together and charming as ever, but his hair was messy, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his brows were all scrunched up. He looked pissed off and worried at the same time.
Three years. I’d seen that face More times than I can count. I used to think I could sketch out every detail with my eyes closed. But now, with him just a few steps away, he felt like a total stranger.
I always thought he was just born that way, gentle, polite, never really letting anyone get too close. Turned out, he just never let me in. But with Sarah, all she had to do was reach out, and suddenly he was a whole different person.
He was frowning at me like I was some brat throwing a tantrum. I knew that look way too well. For three years, every time I tried to talk about something serious, he’d give me that same patient, tolerant face with a bit of that ‘not this again’ vibe.
All of a sudden, it just felt like a bad joke.
His first love was back, and I was stepping aside, making room for Sarah to take my place as Kayla. Wasn’t this just what he wanted? He should be breathing easy, feeling free, maybe even thanking me for Making it so simple.
But now he was standing there, staring at Me like I’d done something unforgivable.
I really didn’t get it. I was helping him out, but he acted like I was the one who betrayed him.
“Kayla,” Anthony said, sounding Completely worn out. “What do you actually want?”
“I just want a divorce,” I replied.
Saying those words was easier than I thought.
“There’s no drama between us. Let’s just
follow the prenup for dividing everything.” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “No kids, so the process should be simple.
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the papers and send them over once we’ve got a date.”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His expression shifted, first stunned, then frowning, like he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.
As I got closer, I heard him say from behind me, “If you walk out that door, don’t even think about coming back.”
His voice was low and steady, but it sounded like he was forcing the words out through clenched teeth, cold, with a chill that cut right through me.
It wasn’t a threat, and it wasn’t him trying
to hold me back. It was more like he was stating a fact. In his eyes, once I walked out, there was no turning back.
After that day, I checked into a hotel. When I couldn’t sleep, I kept asking
Myself, ‘What have I been doing these past three years?’
I’d turned my whole life into a joke. If he was nice to me, I’d be happy; if he was cold, I’d be miserable. My whole world revolved around him, like an idiot.
If My parents were still alive and saw Me like this, they’d probably say I had no backbone.
Soon enough, my lawyer delivered the divorce papers I’d already signed.