Chapter 8

Margarita struggled to find the words to explain or defend herself. She simply stared blankly at Elora.

“How... how... how did you...”

Elora exhaled and walked to her bed. She dropped on it lazily.

“You don't have to be scared. I'm not judging you. I only wish I had half your courage.” She sighed.

Margarita rushed to her side and carefully sat beside her. She didn't have the right words to use.

“I regret that action everyday.” She said quietly. “I let anger and spite take the best of me.”

Elora reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. She didn't want her to feel no remorse.

She hated her father and she knew why anyone would kill him. He was a disgusting man.

He was never present during her early childhood and when he came back after his first mistress got married, Elora wished he never did.

His absence created a false sense of him. She used to long for what could have been. The relationship they might have had. The fun and those cute daddy daughter moments. It was easier that way.

Sometimes, she blamed her mother for his absence. If only she was like the other woman. Maybe her father would stay home more? Maybe he would remember he had a family.

One night when she was eleven, she heard a frantic knock on the door. Her mother rushed to open and he staggered in. He fell on his knees and clutched her leg while weeping and wailing about how sorry he was and how he wanted to fix things.

He swore that he had turned a new leaf. He wanted to be present for their daughter. It was months later that Margarita found out his mistress had married and moved across the country.

Two months in and Elora hated this man. She hated his guts and even his presence irritated her. He was nothing like she had thought he would be. He came home drunk every night and would always scream the roof down.

Sometimes, he would shove Margarita violently across the room if she dared question him. He called both of them names and worse, never contributed to the household.

Soon, he began staying out late again. That was when Margarita discovered he had found another mistress. She found her on I*******m and the first videos were videos of her husband taking her shopping at high end stores.

Margarita had had enough. She was done being a walk over to this man. She waited for him to return home that night and attacked him with the evidence of him cheating. He quickly tried to deny it but when he discovered he had been caught, he started hurling insults. Called Margarita and Elora pathetic. Accused Margarita of being a witch and therefore, undesirable.

Elora could remember that night in details. Their screams kept her awake. Before dawn, her father was out of the house again and she found her mother in the kitchen.

Margarita sat on the kitchen floor with her legs stretched out. Her hair dishevelled, tear marks on her cheeks and her voice hoarse.

Without a word, Elora slipped beside her and pulled her in for a hug. An ugly cry escaped Margarita's throat.

"It's okay, Mama.” Elora cooed as she pulled her closer as if trying to absorb the pain off her.

“I hate him so much.” Margarita sobbed. Suddenly she sat up and pulled Elora closer. "I'm so sorry baby. I am so sorry.”

That night, Elora heard her father come in. She heard them speaking in low tunes. The quiet disturbed her and after a while, she walked quietly to their bedroom. From the slightly open door, she saw her mother standing over her father as he struggled to breathe. She bit her lips and looked away.

Margarita sat on the bed and held his hand. "It'll be done in a few minutes and I'll be here to the end.”

Elora exhaled and slipped back to her room. By morning, the ambulance was at their house. Her mother stood there wide eyed as they took his body out. Elora had no tears for me.

Almost seventeen years later, she wished she was more of mother than anything else. That she had the courage to end Cedric's life. To make him pay for the pain she went through.

“Cedric killed my daughter.” Elora exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. “I don't want anything to do with that man anymore and I wish I could make him feel even half the pain I went through.”

Margarita squeezed her hand. “Leaving him would hurt him more than you can ever imagine. That's your biggest revenge.”

Elora scoffed. She reached for the bottle of wine by her bedside and raised the bottle to her lips. Her mother watched her. She knew how much pain her child was in and felt useless as there was nothing she could do to help her.

Minutes later, Elora got on her feet and headed for her closet. Margarita walked in after her.

“Where are you going?”

“To the club.” She replied flatly. "I need to drown my sorrows in alcohol and loud music.”

Margarita stuttered. “Are you sure that's what you need, darling?”

“Yes.” She replied while frantically searching through her clothes.

“You just lost a child. Maybe...”

“Go home, Mother.” Elora said flatly without sparing Margarita a glance. “Leave me be.”

Margarita hesitated by the door.

“My child is gone forever. No amount of weeping and isolation would bring her back. I have sacrificed months of my life to keep her alive and now that I failed at it, I might as well get back to my life.”

Margarita sighed. She knew it was the pain speaking but she didn't argue with her. She knew how stubborn Elora could be. She picked her bag and headed for the door.

When she got out, she saw Cedric sitting on the floor beside Alex. She kissed her teeth as she walked past them. Cedric got on his feet and went after her.

“Margarita...”

“I do not wish to hear any word from you, Cedric.”

“Please hear me out.” Cedric begged while holding her hand. She pushed him off.

“I know you can make her grant me an audience.”

Margarita chuckled and rolled her eyes. "I would rather chew wet jeans that convince Elora to speak with you.”

“I'm still in love with her.”

“It's too late. There's no second chance for you.”

“Help me.” Cedric said. “Or I'll tell her you were in support of withdrawing the funding.”

Margarita froze.