From Ex to In-law

Diana’s POV

A steady beep filled the quiet room, the rhythmic sound of the IV punctuating through the silence. The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow, but I kept my eyes fixed on the little screen in my hands.

I didn't plan to go through my phone; I wasn't even supposed to be with my phone; I was supposed to be resting, but boredom had won, I couldn't resist the urge to pick up my phone and go through social media.

You couldn't blame me for that, you know? I was all by myself in this hospital receiving treatment, no one was by my side.

I had wondered why my fiance had not called me to check on me. But I got my answer while looking at the little screen on my phone.

Now, I wished I had never unlocked my phone; I wished I had never picked it up.

The photo stared back at me, a beautiful family dinner, my adoptive mother smiling at the camera, my adoptive father holding a glass of wine with a wide grin on his face.

Their biological daughter, the one they had just found almost a few months ago now, sat wearing a red dress; I recognised that dress to be one of the dresses I had admired and showed to my fiance that I would want to have.

But there he was at the centre of it all.

My fiance.

Wrapped around the arms of another woman.

The caption beneath the post reads:

"A perfect reunion; we are so grateful to God for bringing our daughter back to us after all these years, more grateful to see the love bloom between her and Marcel. Fate truly works in mysterious ways."

I couldn't believe my eyes.

At first, when I saw the picture, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had just gone to visit to congratulate them for finding their biological daughter, even though the position they were in was suspicious.

Yes, that's me, not always wanting to jump to conclusions until I am sure, but this caption? It said it all.

My breath hitched, and my fingers tightened around my phone. I was seriously fighting the urge not to pull out the IV and walk straight to that cosy family dinner.

I tapped my phone screen, checking the time the picture was posted.

"Oh my gosh, it was just an hour ago," I said out loud, forgetting that I was in the hospital.

I noticed the nurse weirdly staring at me, but I couldn't allow myself to be disturbed by that.

I went straight to the dialer and dialled his number.

Ring.

Ring.

"Pick up!" I muttered under my breath

Ring.

He wasn't answering.

So while I was here, alone, sick, receiving treatment, waiting for him to come visit, he was out there, celebrating and smiling.

I wanted to scream out so loud, but I was in the hospital.

The fact that my mother-adoptive mother, already endorsed it was troubling me.

All my years growing up in the family as their daughter, never did I ever disrespected or did anything that made them complain. They were always saying I was the perfect daughter... the perfect replacement for the one they lost.

What happened now?

The moment they found their real daughter, they decided that the one they'd been with was trash.

My head spiralled with different thoughts.

"Are you okay, Ms Kensington?" The nurse who had come to check my progress asked

"I am fine" I replied reluctantly, not looking at her.

"You don't look good"

I ignored her.

I picked up my phone and tried again, but it was the same, no answer.

Each unanswered call sent a sharp stab through my chest. The man I had loved, the man I had spent seven years building my life with, our relationship, wasn't just busy, he just didn't care.

This made me start to wonder when it all started and if they had met before she even found her parent.

Was he the one that helped her in finding her parents?

How long had they been doing this?

Did our seven years mean nothing to him?

The questions kept going round and round in cycles in my head, pain in my heart. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

I growled In frustration, tears dripping down my eyes.

"When do I get to leave?" I asked the nurse

She looked at the IV and then at her wristwatch

"In about one hour time" She said smiling

"And I would be free to go?" I asked

"Yes, you would, but is anyone not going to come get you?" She asked her voice laced with concern

"No, I came by myself", I replied, trying to hide the anger I had.

"Isn't there anyone you can call, at least to..."

"I said no! I came alone, what part of that don't you understand" I interrupted angrily

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to.."

"I am sorry, I am just a little bit on edge", I replied, bowing my head in shame.

"Oh my dear, it's fine; I hope you get better,", she said, smiling.

"One hour right?"

She looked at her time once again.

"Fifty minutes now" she replied and then turned to leave.

I was left all alone.

I laid back on the bed, trying not to think about the picture I saw, but I couldn't help it.

How dare he?

Seven months, gone down the drain?

Or was I just overthinking the situation?

I picked up my phone again, and dialled his number; this time around, it went straight to voice mail.

I almost slammed my phone to the ground in anger, but I didn't because I would be creating a scene.

I went straight to the picture on social media.

The red dress.

The one that I have always wanted.

He even dared to order it for her.

I scoffed.

At exactly fifty minutes the nurse came back to remove the IV.

"Now you are free to go, Ms Kensington."

As I headed towards the door, the betrayal settled deep in my bones.

A cold crushing weight.

Surprisingly, I wasn't feeling like crying anymore or even screaming.

What I felt was rather strange; eerie calmness washed over me.

I knew what I had to do.