003

Calista’s POV

The next few days had been unbearable for me. I got to see Ophelia often here at our house, and even days when she didn’t drop by, I knew Gerald had gone out to see her.

I refused to think about where I had gone wrong, these past three years. I refused to think about if maybe, I had known about Ophelia, I would’ve cast aside all my emotions and maybe this wouldn’t bother me this much.

I refused to think about anything that would make this revelation feel heavier than it was, and I promised myself that I’d go on with my life just as if nothing had happened. We were already reaching the end of our contract, so it was stupid of me to be making a fuss about this.

I arranged the breakfast on the tray, watching the steam rise from the hot cup of coffee before I let out a low breath. “If only thing’s were different…” I found myself muttering. “If and only if…”

Leaving the food on the counter, I climbed up the stairs reluctantly—the only thing pushing me to do this being the urge to get it over with. When I got to Gerald’s room, I knocked. Thrice.

“Gerald, your breakfast’s ready.”

I didn’t really care if he ate it or not—at least I didn’t want to. After the way Ophelia’s been all over him for the past few days, I wouldn’t even be surprised if he rejected my food again just so he can go eat with her or something. Or maybe do whatever it is they do in that office.

I was about to leave after delivering my message, when I heard the door lock click. My eyes shifted to the door instantly, with a spark of hope that maybe Gerald would eat today, and maybe request to eat with me.

But it all shattered to pieces when I saw the woman standing in front of me, clutching the bed sheets to her chest, and not even having the decency to cover herself properly.

My heart thundered in my ears as I stood there frozen to the ground with widened eyes. I thought that I’d seen it all, I hoped this wouldn’t bother me, but it did. So very much.

When on earth did she get in?

I’d slept early last night. Did she drop by to spend a night over? When did she even start spending nights here.

“Oh yes. Breakfast, I’m starving.” She drawled, tipping her head back with a breath. “Hope you made for two?” She batted her lashes at me, her voice deceptively sweet.

I blinked, still trying to put together the sight before my eyes. My eyes flicked to the slightly open door, and a second later, Gerald emerged in a dress pant and a dress shirt. He just brushed past me as he adjusted his collar, acting like I was invisible once again.

Of course.

I parted my lips to ask if he would eat what I had prepared for him, but I forced my mouth shut. If he did want it, he’d find it in the kitchen. If he didn’t, his beloved would just make him a new one, right?

I was nothing to him. And he made that very clear.

Trying to get my emotions under control, I counted to three in my head, and forced myself to walk away, heading in the direction of my bedroom.

This was just a contract marriage. I reminded myself. He was right, after all. It’s just signatures. On a paper. And it’s going to end eventually.

Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks.

But… was I doing the right thing?

Was I supposed to fight for my husband, regardless of what Gerald says?

Was… was this some kind of test to show if I truly cared about him or not?

I turned around slowly, looking down the corridor I’d just walked through. Then I shook my head abruptly.

“God I sound ridiculous.” I mumbled to myself, before continuing my walk to my room, and slamming the door when I was finally inside.

Oh goodness. How does a woman even address such a situation?

~~~~~

I was scrolling through Ophelia’s page, checking if she’s posted any new pictures of her and Gerald, anything at all. Yes, this was what my life had become now. No matter how many times I tried to stop myself, I kept finding myself doing the same thing over and over.

I was wondering why he wasn’t back yet, as he should’ve been about an hour ago, when I heard Gerald’s car horn from outside.

My whole body went rigid, but I didn’t bother leaving my bed. It wasn’t like he wanted me to welcome him or something, besides, he was probably with his ‘first love.’ Why should I give him the chance to insult me?

I immediately exited my i*******m, tossing my phone on the bed with a sigh. Why scroll with when you can watch the drama firsthand?

Unwillingly of course.

I’m sure Ophelia would come to ask me if I made dinner anytime from now. She really thinks I’m the maid or something, and Gerald didn’t even look like he’d correct her.

Hot, flaring anger ran through my veins, and I turned away from the window I’d been staring out of to focus on the blurry ceiling above me. Then I shut my eyes, trapping the unfallen tears in there.

You can’t cry because of him, Calista.

Just then, a loud sound jolted me out of my mind, and I snapped my head to the door to see Gerald standing there with his palm splayed out on the door.

He had pushed it open.

My eyes darted from the cold look on his sculpted features to the paper in his hand as he approached me.

Too stunned to ask what was going on, I just sat there clutching the sheets beneath me as he closed the distance between us in three slow strides. He then threw the papers toward me, and I flinched as they landed on my lap, dread settling in my stomach as an idea of what was happening crept into my mind.

Reluctantly, I looked down at the papers on my lap, the tears in my ears clouding my vision once again. I couldn’t even see the words on the document because of them, but… I couldn’t say I didn’t know what it was.

“Sign it.” The finality in Gerald’s harsh tone confirmed my thoughts.

My eyes still remained on the papers as I felt a dull pain in my chest. I ignored it.

I'd been trying to prepare my mind for the future ahead of me, I’d been trying to brace myself for what’s to come.

But… I would’ve never expected him to do this to me.

I would’ve never expected him to serve me divorce papers before our contract marriage was over just because his ex—his first true love—had returned.

To him, I was just a nuisance he needed to get rid of. An obstacle standing in the way of his relationship with his beloved.

The dull pain bloomed spreading through my whole chest as I shut my eyes, once again trapping my tears as I stifled a sob.

I didn’t want him to see me cry.

He wasn’t going to see me cry.

I ignored the burning sensation in my chest and the sharpness in my ribs.

And I picked up the pen he had thrown to me without a word, and signed the papers.

I refused to pay attention to the woman lingering at the door who didn’t bother to hide her presence, I refused to pay attention to his bold signatures at the side, a reminder that he had wanted this for God knows how long.

I didn’t even look at his face when I gave him back the papers. Neither did I wait for him to tell me anything.

I just packed up my stuff.

And I left.