Chapter Three

Laura

The past three days had been the most traumatizing of my life. I stood over Ryan’s grave, my body shaking as I cried uncontrollably. The only people by my side were my mom and my best friend, Freda.

It had been three days since Ryan passed, and I hadn’t been able to reach anyone from Lucien’s family. His mother had blocked my number, and Lucien’s line hadn’t gone through since that night. Every time I tried, it went straight to voicemail.

I hadn’t left the hospital since the day Ryan died, after  I had collapsed from shock, only my mom and Freda had come to check on me. Now I am forced to bury him with his dad or any of his family in sight. 

 Even though my heart ached at the thought of speaking to my mom, I had no one else. I hate that my parents had forced me to marry Lucien, even knowing he loved another. But my father saw it as an opportunity to rise from bankruptcy thinking Lucien would help his business, so he forced me into that marriage.

I had given him everything, my body, my mind, my womb freely, hoping that one day he would move on from Megan and love me. But the moment she returned, even with a daughter who wasn’t his, he welcomed her back into his life without hesitation.

As Freda and I walked out of the cemetery, I turned to her, my voice low but firm. “I need you to do something for me, please.”

She looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern, then nodded eagerly. “Anything you want,” she said softly.

I waited until we were all settled in the car before speaking again. “I want you to help me file for a divorce—l as soon as possible,” I said, my voice steady. My mom’s eyes went wide, but I didn’t care.

The only thing I needed right now was to leave this marriage. There was no going back. A man who hadn’t checked on me or his son in three days, yet stayed comfortably in the arms of another woman with another man’s child, he had forfeited any claim to my loyalty.

Freda was a lawyer, and I trusted her to speed up the process. She had never liked Lucien for me and had always warned me that he was only using me for my brain. 

“Finally,” Freda said with a relieved sigh. “I will drop everything I’m working on and start on it right away.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” my mom asked cautiously. “You don’t know why he isn’t here. Don’t make any hasty decisions. Please think about your father.”

I didn’t know if it was the years of pent-up anger from suffering both public and private humiliation at his hands, or the frustration of trying to do everything to make him love me. But all that restraint snapped.

“Fuck you,” I spat,  as I poured every ounce of rage onto her.

Her eyes went wide in shock, but I didn’t stop. “Fuck you, Dad, and that useless company you sacrificed my sanity and dignity to revive,” I cried. “I don’t care what you or Father think about my decision. You can disown me for all I care but I am done with that man.” Tears streamed down my face as the words left my mouth.

Freda rubbed my back gently, trying to calm me. “I know you are hurting,” she said softly, “but please don’t make rash decisions. Ryan wasn’t destined to live long.”

That was the last straw. In that moment, I realized even my mother was a weapon forged against me. She wasn’t here because she cared. She was here to make sure I stayed with Lucien, to protect her own interests. Because if I left him, no one would sponsor her expensive lifestyle anymore.

I opened the car door, and Freda stepped out after me, frowning. I turned to my mom, my voice shaking but firm.

“Go to fucking hell. As of this minute, I want nothing to do with you or anyone in your family. Don’t call me, don’t  try to reach me.” I slammed the door so hard the sound echoed down the street.

“You don’t mean that,” she called after me, but I ignored her. I started walking, and she drove alongside, trying to persuade me to get back into the car. I ignored her completely. After about ten minutes, she gave up.

“You will regret this decision you just made,” she warned before driving off.

I stood there in the middle of the road, sobbing uncontrollably. Freda came to my side, rubbing my back gently. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s walk a bit, get to the main road. We can catch a cab from there.”

I walked almost absentmindedly for a long while, tears blurring my vision, Freda quietly following behind me. When my legs finally ached too much to go any further, I turned to her and asked we get a cab back to his place.

Freda looked at me, surprised that I would still go back. “I’m going to pack my things and wait for you to send the divorce papers before leaving for good,” I said firmly.

“That’s fine,” she replied, still a bit wary. “I will  start working on it as soon as possible.” I nodded.

We took a cab, and it dropped me off in front of the mansion. I told Freda to go; I would manage alone. She hesitated, concerned, but I insisted.

I walked through the front doors, and the mansion felt unbearably cold and empty.  Mr. James, the butler, appeared from the kitchen the moment I stepped in. His eyes widened the second he saw my face.

“Welcome, ma’am. I have been trying to reach you for the past three days. Are you  okay?”

I shook my head. Mr. James was the only person in this entire mansion who had ever treated me with kindness. He had worked here for thirty years long before Lucien was even born.

“I’m not fine,” I said quietly. Then, after a pause, I asked, “Is Lucien upstairs?” I needed to know. If he was, I would take another room until Freda brought the divorce papers. Only then would I face him.

He cleared his throat. “Nope. Lucien said to tell you he’s gone on  vacation and won’t be back until the weekend.”

I nodded stiffly, the weight of the words crushing me. While I buried our son, he was in another country, living it up with Megan. Mr. James hesitated, his concern evident. “How is Ryan? Have you been at the hospital with him?”

“He died,” I said flatly, my voice cold. I didn’t wait to see his reaction. Without another word, I turned and walked upstairs.