ANONYMOUS

CHAPTER SIX

I decided to stay at home for the day as I searched online for meals I could prepare for Julian before he got home without so much stress. I needed to tell him about my condition. It'd be so cruel of me to leave this world without letting him know about this. He would blame himself for the rest of his life.

Lila’s door opened, and I looked up to take a glance, but I returned my gaze to her.

“Has Julian always allowed you to wear his pants?”

She looked at me. “Oh, this? I needed a pair of trousers that would go well with my shirt. I asked him, and he said instead of me wasting money on a new pair of trousers, I should use his.”

I nodded slowly. That's weird. Julian was always sensitive about his clothes, so he had never lent them out.

I tried to avert my gaze back to what I was doing when I noticed the necklace.

Is that a birthstone necklace? Like the one Julian got for me.

“Is that from Julian as well?”

She looked away from the kitchen counter where she drank coffee. “What?” Her perfect eyebrow raised.

“The necklace.”

“Oh, yes. It is. They are my mom's. He got it for me on my birthday.”

My smile disappeared. He got the same thing he got for me on my birthday for her.

She drank the last drop of coffee, rinsed the cup, and started leaving. “Bye, Tessa!” she called out as she walked out of the apartment.

I couldn't answer. My mind was disturbed.

Hours later, I decided on what to prepare for Julian. Banana bread. While mixing the flour, my phone rang. It'd been ringing repeatedly for twenty minutes. It seemed important, so I abandoned the flour and picked up the phone.

“Hello! This is Nurse Clara from Hope Link Hospital. Am I speaking to Mrs. Averton?”

I frowned. Hope Link? “Yes, you are. How may I help you?”

Did something bad happen to my Julian?

“Mrs. Averton, are you aware that you have brain cancer and your result was fabricated to make you believe that you were fine?”

I adjusted myself. “Yes, I do. I found out a few weeks ago.”

“Then, you must also be aware that your husband, Mr. Averton, came to visit Dr. Gideon without you on several occasions.”

I paused. “What do you mean?”

“The guilt of me knowing all of this and not saying a thing because I was threatened by Dr. Gideon not to has been eating me up all these years, and I think the best way to take at least some of that guilt away is by sharing a recording of Dr. Gideon and Mr. Averton's conversation.”

“W-what are you talking abou—?”

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Averton.” Then, she ended the call, leaving me to frown at the phone.

A few minutes later, a message came in from the number. It was a voice recording.

I opened it.

“Dr. Gideon, are you blackmailing me right now?” That was Julian, unmistakably thick and velvet-rough.

“You have no idea what blackmail is. What I'm simply doing is asking you for my real worth. What you give me for the job I do is simply peanuts.”

“You are aware that if this gets out, you'll lose your license, right?”

And then the recording ended. I played it again and again to be sure I got the voices right, and I did. My husband and Dr. Gideon? What job were they talking about?

My phone slipped through my fingers and clattered onto the floor, cracking instantly. I held my head, the migraine returning effortlessly.

I grabbed two glasses of water, but they wouldn't go down, so I left for Julian’s study to grab the painkillers he always kept in his drawer.

When I got there, the smell of burnt paper hit my nose despite myself. I staggered my way towards the table, my vision blurry. Then, I saw it. The bin right beside his desk. It had burnt paper in it. Curious, despite the migraine and blurred vision, I picked out the piece of paper that didn't burn completely.

It just had “signed by husband Julian Averton” and then his signature. The rest had been burnt.

Signed by husband? What could that be?

I tossed it back into the bin, unable to figure out what it was. Maybe my health insurance. I don't know.

As I reached for the drawer, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it.

Unknown: You know what? I'm sick and tired of this push and pull. Here is the recording of your husband fucking me on your matrimonial bed the day you had an accident and were fighting for your life two years ago.