Chapter 3: Emotional Breakdown

Vanessa lurched out of the office clutching the medical records in her hand, her nails biting into her palms. The ground scraped beneath her feet as she hunched over as if choking down a sob. She lowered her head, her neck appearing to shrink. She pushed through the exit door, pinching her lips tight to keep them from trembling.

How could he? She stuttered, choking for words. Her shoulders drooped as her body crumpled into itself.

This isn’t the kind of marriage I gave up my career for. Her hands pressed against her breastbone as she bit her bottom lips, eyes widened as brows furrowed.

When she got to the spot she had parked her car, she collapsed into the seat, slamming the door so hard that her ears stung.

She sat facing the front mirror, her throat tightened making her lungs squeeze and her muscles weak. As she reached out for her phone, her limbs trembled and the tear she had fought so hard to resist finally streaked down her face. She dialed her attorney’s number and pressed the phone to her ears. She took a deep breath and held it in.

“Meet me at First city hospital. It's urgent. I'm at the parking slot.” She pulled the phone off her ears, silencing it with her finger and throwing it off to another seat. She reached out for the drawer next to her and began digging through it through the stacks of old papers and car documents of her husband's Toyota Camry.

“He must be hiding something. The inheritance. The unending quest to get on a surrogacy. What other thing was he hiding?” She searched through the corners. For clues. Anything to show to her lawyer. Anything to back up whatever decision she takes after now. Just then, her fingers scratched upon a small, red box. She lifted it up slowly, the design labelled on the surface matches the ring in her finger. For five years now, this was the single reason she paused her career to stay and to love her husband. She placed her fingers on her laps, her lips curled as her face blanched.

“Does he even love me?” The word broke through the silence, her skin tightening like a crawling, fleshy sensation. The bitter tang of disappointment tasted like metallic steel. Everything she had including the Toyota Camry belonged to her husband. Every asset named after him. She could rarely boast of anything. All because she decided to pause her career, work in his colleague’s hospital just as he wanted and stay pretty being just a wife and the maker of his children.

The realisation made her throat burn. She looked at the red box for the umpteenth time then slowly threw it into her bag forcefully drying her eyes.

A few moments later, Attorney Franklin arrived in his three piece suit and a briefcase. When he knocked on the window glass, she exhaled deeply then opened the other entrance.

“I got here immediately, I got your call.” He said, sitting down and facing Vanessa who's silent, staring into the window.

“Here.” She handed him the report, swallowing hard, arms folded to her chest.

Attorney Franklin scanned through the report then back to Vanessa.

“You mean Travis…” His voice low, as silence stretched between them.

Vanessa pressed her lips, nodding slightly, her veins throbbing on her forehead. “File a divorce! She sneered, lips pressing into a white slash. I'm done allowing Travis to mess with me.” Her jaw clenched. She cocked her head, raising one eyebrow giving a glassy stare to Franklin who sat upright watching while he quietly scribbled something on paper.

“I'll be thirty in a few months from now and yet I have little to no assets to my name.” Vanessa continued, her tone sharper than the first pressing a fist to her mouth.

“We will need to have a word with him first and fix a proper date for the divorce.”

“There’s no better time to divorce his ass than now. So you drive straight to the mansion immediately. I'm done with his lies.” She snorted, baring her teeth as she ran a hand through her hair, eyes squinting.

“Alright.” Franklin replied, lowering his head as he reached out for the key, slotted it in and drove out of the hospital.

*************

Travis's Mansion

“I won't have you come in here with these hoodlums trespassing on my property.” Travis's voice echoed, his hands pointing to his Stepmom, Madam Kate. She's standing by the door, holding a briefcase and her attorney with a couple of boys he presumed were her body guards.

“Would you let me in son. Or should I let the lawyers do their job?” The step mom’s voice deepened carrying a stench of whiskey and gunpowder.

“This wasn't stated in my father's will testament, so cut the chase and stop already.” He barked, leaning closer to them.

“You seem to be stubborn like your father, my husband.” She laughed dryly, cocking a smile.

“He's not your husband. You're just his step wife so you better know your place.”

“Hmm. Nice speech.” She clapped her hands, staring deeply into his eyes. “Well, if you wouldn't let us in, I would just simply give you the message right here.” She winced at her attorney and he handed the brief case back to her.

“You have less than two weeks until the inheritance hearing. And if by then you can't provide an heir, according to your father's will everything he left with you automatically goes to me, his step wife. And I shouldn't remind you what happened to your mom? You wouldn't want to die fighting for what you can't have.” Her words cut through the air so hard that Travis lifted his hands up for a slap but one of the guards was just too fast to grab it.

“Very good.” She flared her nostrils. “ The next time you raise your flirty hands on me or even attempt to, I'll make sure I break them off. Stupid bastard.” The guard dropped his hand forcefully. Travis knuckles cracked as his lips flattened as he drew in slow, steady breath.

“Get me out of here. I've got my wedding to plan.” Madam Kate's voice as she strutted through the compound, her guards falling in place side to side like her little minions. She brushed through her manicure and rechecked her makeup, douching off a wrinkle that stood upright.

“In a matter of weeks. This mansion would be all mine. All mine to live in. All mine to love again.” She muttered to herself, a sinister laughter escaping her lips.

The guards led her to the car. She sat at the back with her attorney whispering something to his ears while they drove out of the mansion.

Travis stood by the door until they were gone, his arms folded to his chest. He snatched his phone and dialed Vanessa's number. “That bitch! She isn't picking my calls.” He pressed the phone to his ears again. And this time it was declined. He rolled up his sleeves, loosening his collar as he pounded his fist against the door, kicking it open and stomping into the sitting room.

He scanned through the corners for Sandra but found no one. She was out and he was all alone to himself.

Just as he stood up to go get some vital documents from his briefcase, the entrance door opened with Vanessa standing next to attorney Franklin, a sealed, white paper in her hand, her lip curled into a wide slash with legs planted apart.