Ch-3

HILDA’S POV

I stared at the bold letters, my vision blurring with tears that threatened to spill over. I raised my gaze to look at him,

“Please, Wilson… don’t do this. You can’t do this to me!”, My voice shook as I pleaded on my knees.

Yet he didn’t flinch. He stood tall, his eyes emitting coldness and indifference. As if all the years I spent by his side were nothing.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Hilda, let’s not make this dramatic. You knew this day was coming….”

I shook my head, desperation clawing at my throat as I moved to the edge of the bed.

My knees wobbled, and I had to grip the bedpost to keep myself upright.

“No, I didn’t. I thought… I thought we were just going through a rough patch. I thought this was something we could work through.”

My voice cracked, “I thought we still had a chance.”

A mocking smile stretched across his lips. “A chance?” He chuckled, the sound sharp and hollow.

“Hilda, the only reason I married you was because of the pregnancy, and even after you lost I stayed this long because of your grandmother’s threat to pull out of my company. But now?” He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets casually, like he wasn't aware of how much damage he was causing to my heart. “Now that my company is thriving, I don’t need to be tied down anymore.”

My body jerked back as if he had physically struck me, making me clutch my chest, the pain radiating like shards of glass piercing through my heart. “So… that’s all I ever was to you? A business strategy?”

His expression hardened. “I won’t lie to you just to make you feel better, Hilda. Sign the papers, and let’s end this peacefully. I’m even willing to offer you a generous alimony… a villa, even.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, “I don’t want your damn money, Wilson! Do you think I put up with all this because of money? No. It's because I love you! I want you!” I cried.

“Don’t be naïve, Hilda. Love was never in the equation. I’ve told you already. I can't love you, and I don’t want to be with you anymore.” His voice was harsh as he responded.

The tears I had been holding back spilled, rolling hot liquid down my cheeks.

I reached for his hand, hoping—praying—that he would take it. That he would feel my desperation, my need for him to see me, to acknowledge me. But he recoiled, pulling his hand back like my touch was poison.

“Please, Wilson…” I whispered, my voice so soft it barely reached my ears. “Just tell me there was at least one moment… one moment where you loved me. Or even cared for me.”

He didn't say anything. He just put his hands in his pocket and stood still, a deafening silence hung between us.

It felt so thick and suffocating, pressing down on my chest that I couldn’t breathe.

He exhaled sharply, finally parting his lips to say something. “You’re overreacting,” he muttered, turning away from me. “We’ll keep this quiet for now. No one needs to know until I’m ready to make it public.”

My stomach twisted painfully at his words. He didn't give a fvck about how I was feeling but rather what people would think about him?

I stared at his back, the broad shoulders I had once viewed as comfort now seemed like iron gates to me.

Before I could respond, he walked out of the room, his footsteps growing fainter with every step away.

**********

The ceremonial dinner was elegant and extravagant as crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting shimmering lights across the whole conference hall. Waiters floated through the crowd with trays of champagne, while laughter and murmurs filled the air.

Like tradition demands, the Autoure group was throwing their annual ceremonial dinner and of course, I, the only in-law and the wife of their only heir; Hilda Autoure had to be in attendance.

I stood by the mirror, smoothing the red satin gown that hugged my frame. Wilson had once told me it was his favorite. I wondered now if he truly meant it or if that was just another lie.

Regardless, I had worn it.

As I approached the entrance, Wilson barely glanced my way. He gave a curt nod, resting his hand lightly on my waist as we made our way through the crowd.

To anyone watching, we must have looked like the perfect couple as the way he touched me was gentle, his face widely beaming with smiles. But in reality, it was all a facade.

His mother beamed when she saw me, her face lighting up as she pulled me into a hug.

“Hilda, darling!” she gushed, linking her arm with mine. “You look beautiful! Wilson is so lucky to have you.” She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve been taking care of her, right?”

He gave a strained smile. “Of course, Mom.”

She turned back to me, cupping my chin in her hands. “You look thin, dear. Is he making you work too hard? You need to rest!”

I forced a laugh, nodding politely as she prattled on. I could feel Wilson’s hand tighten on my waist, a silent warning for me to keep playing along.

And like the fool I am, I obeyed.

Soon dinner was served, and everyone started engaging each other in conversations. I barely tasted the food; everything felt like ash on my tongue.

I was just about to excuse myself when the room grew quiet. Suddenly, a hollow sound from the soles of a heel reverberated throughout the hall as a familiar figure walked in.

My breath hitched in my throat and I could feel my heart pounding fast in my chest as she approached our table closer and closer.

It was Lillian. Yes, the same because of who my marriage was torn apart.

But wait, how the hell did she get in here? Who could have possibly invited her?

Her heels clicked sharply against the floor, a for Ed wide smile playing on her lips. She looked stunning, poised, confident, and everything I wasn’t.

Stealing a glance at him through the sides of my eyes, I could see Wilson tensed beside me, his grip on the cutlery tightening for just a moment before he forced his hand to relax.

Lillian finally got to our table and before I could react, without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks, the scent of her perfume suffocating.

“Darling, I’m so glad you invited me,” she purred, her eyes flicking to Wilson before settling back on me.

I blinked. Shocked at her accusation. Why the hell would I invite her here?

“Invited you?” I uttered, maxing it with a smile.

“Yes,” she continued, her eyes glimmering with something sinister. “You didn’t think I would miss this, did you?”

Wilson’s mother turned to me, her expression confused. “Hilda, you invited her?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Wilson’s gaze cut to me, sharp and warning. I could clearly see the message they carried.

He wanted me to cover for her. My breath caught in my throat.

He actually expected me to defend her? The woman who had been tearing us apart piece by piece?

My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I seethed with anger.

The room felt heavy with silence, everyone waiting for me to respond.

Wilson must be thinking I am some sort of trash to toss around if he truly expects me to cover up for his fling.

I've tolerated his disrespect for long. Today was going to be the end of it all.

Gripping tightly the edge of the table, I lifted my chin and replied with a steady voice, “I haven't seen or heard from her for four years, how could I have possibly invited her here? No, I didn’t.” I firmly replied, looking at Wilson dead in the eyes.