Anger

FIVE YEARS LATER

Francesco’s POV

“The sales memo will be sent to your email immediately Jenny is done arranging them, sir,” My assistant, Patrick Bradshaw, said, as I reviewed the pile of paperwork on my desk.

“Alright then. I will be expecting it,” I replied. “You may leave.”

Within five minutes, I was done assessing the paperwork. Thereafter, I proceeded to sort the promising proposals into a folder and the others in an envelope.

I was about going out for lunch, my first meal of the day as today was exceptionally busy, being that it was the last week of the month, when my phone dinged with a notification.

Sitting back on my swivel chair, I opened my phone, and saw that it was an email from “Tendrils of Love”, and a thick shroud of resentment instantly filled me.

“Tendrils of Love” was a website that I had specially designed for Josephine and I on our third marriage anniversary. Back then, we had both listed our plans and goals for the next five years and had locked the website afterward.

The plan was that the website would send us a notification on our eight wedding anniversary, so we could check out the goals we had achieved, not knowing Josephine had something up her sleeve.

Anger spread from my chest down to the tip of my toes as I read my plans, which had entailed sending Josephine back to law school, so she could become a lawyer like she had always wanted, as well as being the best husband and father to her and our future kids.

Hers had been just one plan; to have my kids.

“That deceptive Jezebel,” I mumbled, as I thought about how pretentious Josephine was.

If it hadn't been for the obstetrician who told me about the countless abortions Josephine had during our marriage, that eventually damaged her womb, rendering her infertile, I would have never known that she was nothing but a two-faced wench.

However, I had been too stupid and in love, so I couldn't bring myself to chase her away, and had decided to distance myself from her.

Only for her to still kill our twins that she had miraculously gotten pregnant with, a year after she was diagnosed with infertility.

As if killing them wasn't enough, Josephine had the audacity to lie that she had miscarried the babies.

Doctor Derek initially didn't want to tell me about it because she told me Josephine had confided in the former that she didn’t want to ruin her body with kids, but with the promise that the obstetrician wouldn't breathe a word about it to me.

But being the selfless person that she was, Doctor Derek told me everything.

Only for Josephine to dare to serve me divorce papers after killing our kids.

The uncouth wench that I had saved from a life that would have eventually resulted in prostitution, had the audacity to tell me that she wanted out of our marriage.

Josephine, who I had loved even more than my own self and had proceeded to marry, despite the fact that my mother had advised me against our union.

It was true when they said mother always knew the best thing for their children.

Thinking about the whole situation made me wish I had listened to my mother in the first place.

Deleting the emails as well as the website, I placed my phone on the desk and began pacing the office, in a bid to repress my anger.

I hadn't even known today was what was supposed to be our eighth marriage anniversary.

Even though she had been gone for five years, Josephine never failed to piss me the fuck off.

“Fucking wench,” I muttered, as a knock came on the door.

“Come in,” I uttered, and my longtime business partner and friend, April Newman, walked in.

Her family owned Newman incorporation, a multinational firm, that often partnered with my company.

“Hey, big guy,” She beamed, taking her seat on one of the couches in the office and kicking off her shoes. “Why do you look so tense? Did something happen?”

“No,” I replied. “I was about to leave for lunch. Do you want to come?”

“Actually,” April began, standing up and walking over to stand in front of me. “I need something from you.”

“What is that?” I asked.

Splaying her hands on my chest, April gave me a sultry look. “My dad and brother pissed me off this morning, and I need to be distracted from thinking about them. Will you be my distraction?”

Removing her hands from my chest, I asked. “Are you on some sort of drugs?”

“You are so draining, Francesco,” April spat, which made my brows furrow in confusion. “After all these years of me literally offering myself to you on a platter, you still don't understand my heart and will probably never do because you are still in love with your liar of an ex-wife. Even the media thinks we should be together. Don't tell me you haven't seen what the blogs write about us?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I retorted in disbelief.

I had stumbled across some of those blogs in the past but had never given it a thought.

“Oh, please, Francesco,” April rolled her eyes. “I'm not a kid. Do you think I believe your lies about divorcing Josephine because you both grew apart?”

“Get out,” I barked, pointing to the door. “You are clearly not in your right mind.”

“One day, you will come to your senses and stop being a simp for that useless gold-digger,” April hollered right back, as she snatched her bag off the couch.

Darting me a disdainful scowl alongside a spiteful hiss, April stormed out of my office.

I couldn't believe the last five minutes had happened as I stared at the door.

The same April, who I had grown up with and had likened to the little sister I never had, apparently never saw me the way I thought she did all these while.

“This is crazy,” I muttered, the hunger in me morphing into mild anger tinged with disbelief.

Hours later, I was done with work and it was time to go home.

Entering my car, I connected my phone to the car's Bluetooth before switching on the ignition and steering my car out of the driveway.

Pulling onto the busy highway, I dialed my mother's number and waited for her to answer.

“My one and only son, how are you?” Her voice came from the phone.

“I'm fine, ma. How are you?” I asked.

“I'm good too,” She replied. “I went to Mrs Simpson’s birthday lunch. It was great. How was work?”

“Work was okay,” I replied. “I’m glad you had fun, mum.”

“Yeah. Let's change the topic. When are you planning to get a girlfriend?”

After the whole thing with Josephine, I just couldn't bring myself to trust women again, let alone date them.

“I don't need one, ma. I have my work and I'm fine with that,” I said.

“What about April? She's a good lady and is also very pretty,” Mum said, and I couldn't help but huff. “Why did you do that?”

“Mum, I don't and will never see April in that manner, alright?” I replied.

There was a long pause and for a moment, I thought she had hung up until she sighed.

“You both will make a really nice couple, Francesco,” Mum said. “You both come from money unlike that selfish leech.”

“How old is Mrs Simpson this year?” I quickly changed the topic as I was beyond tired of my mum playing the matchmaker.

“She's sixty five and looks really young for her age,” Mum replied. “I heard she had a face lift done a while ago.”

“Is that right?” I chuckled.

“Very much so, Francesco. The woman is so obsessed with looking young. She'd probably eat rat poison if it'd make her younger,” Mum tutted. “Are you home now?”

“Yes, ma,” I said, as I drove into my estate.

“That's good.”

“Alright then. Take care, ma.” I said.

“You too. I love you, Francesco.” Mum responded.Francesco

“I love you too, ma.” I replied, before ending the call.