Chapter 2

“I forgive you, Francis.” Camelia stared calmly at him as she spoke. He was just joking; he didn’t mean the divorce statement.

She had decided that it was her fault he had decided to cheat since she couldn’t give him a child. But that was all in the past, a new life was growing in her.

“I don't want this to come in between us,” she rose and moved towards him, her eyes filled with hope and a half-hearted smile. “I accept that you made a mistake with Hillary and it's fine. Let's now focus on…”

“No, Camelia. I can’t do that.” Francis snatched his hands away from her and took some steps backwards. “I'm fed up with this marriage, I said I want out.” 

“No!” She cried, her voice shook with hysterics, and she could feel a splitting headache coming; her vision became blurred by tears whelming in her eyes. 

“You want out with what Francis?” She screamed when he ignored her question. Her hand was tightened in a fist beside her and her breathing became heavy.

“I'm tired of living with a barren and a liar,” he said straight out, his eyes devoid of any emotions. “I no longer love you and I've been searching for the right time to call it off with you.”

He paused and the air in the room became tense, her heavy breaths making most of the sound.

“To be honest, I've been finding it hard to live with you.” 

“You can’t mean it,” 

“But I do, sign the papers.” He grounded and pointed at the paper on the floor. Through her teary eyes, she stared at it again.

“I give you two days to sign it.” He said and took his coat that was on the hanger and walked out of the room, giving her no chance to speak.

Camelia's knees gave way and she fell to the floor when the door shut firmly. It all felt surreal and she still found it hard to believe.

How did her marriage crumble within a day or was he playing a trick on her? However, the papers confirmed it all, his name signed boldly on it. He was serious about divorcing her.

His words resounded in her ears again, ‘I'm tired of living with a barren.’ But she was not; she placed her hands on her tummy, and tears streamed down her eyes uncontrollably.

No, she suddenly sprang to her feet and picked up her phone. She searched for his name and dialled it.

The number you are calling is not available. 

Her phone slipped down her hands, down to the floor. But she refused to give up, she had one more option.

***

Camelia sat stiffly on the white couch, her head bowed slightly as she stared at the grey marble tiles. She was reminded again of why she never liked it here- her mother-in-law had never been receptive to her.

“I saw it coming,” the elderly woman disclosed. Her nose was turned up and she frowned hard at Camelia. It was evident she didn't like her.

“There is nothing I can do. Francis made his decision, and I can't change it.”

Camelia forced a smile and looked up to the woman. She knew his mother would not be able to help but she had still tried her luck.

“You see…” she continued. “It’s time you let my son go, you were never the right choice for him. If not because of your mother…”

She took a long exhale and stopped her words. “Sign the papers and go your separate ways.” 

Camelia gently stood up from the couch and nodded her head slowly, “Thanks for your help,” she whispered, took her black bag and went out of the house.

This was it, her marriage was over!

-

Camelia stood outside the large white building and stared at the words boldly displayed on it. 

Whitney Hospital.

It has been four days since she stepped foot into the hospital, her workplace, after witnessing the horrible scene that still haunts her.

It was time to move on, she told herself and dragged her feet into the hospital. The past four days had been tormenting her. Fortunately, Francis disturbed her for the papers despite the ultimatum he gave her. But he never stepped foot into the house and she didn’t need to guess where he was.

It was all over the hospital platform a couple of years ago- Francis and Hillary. She had been in her dark hole when the feed popped into her screen, and she was surprised. 

Francis had never approved of their relationship being public, so why now?

As she walked, she saw Hillary talking to some staff from the corner of her eyes. She saw her raise her left hand and something sparkle in her fingers.

“No way. Is that a ring?” She gasped, her blood rising in anger in a split second. She tried to move closer to confirm but stopped suddenly.

“Miss Jones,” a hand-held on to her.

Camelia turned and saw the security guard standing behind her. An awkward smile escaped from her lips, she hoped he didn't catch her staring.

“Hi, Joel,” she greeted, her gaze still on Hillary.

“Please come with me,” Joel commanded, his gaze stiff and hardened.

“Huh, Joel. What is happening?” She looked at him confused. This was the first she knew him to be full of smiles, but he stared at her distantly.

Joel ignored her and dragged her tightly by the hand, giving her no chance to escape. 

Camelia was pulled into the hospital, down the hallway. Her arms were pinned as he gripped her tightly, not letting her break free and her face flushed with a mix of fear and confusion. 

They walked down the hall and Camelia bowed her head in shame when all eyes were on them.

“Did something happen?” She continued asking him as they made it to the security office. 

Or did they discover her relationship with Francis? She wondered. But that was not enough reason for her to be treated like a criminal.

“Stay here,” Joel ordered when they got to the office. He shoved her into the dark office and slammed the door shut behind her with a metallic lock.

“What the…” She rushed to it and pounded her fists against the door. “Joel! Joel!!” She shouted, her breath irregular.

“Open the door,” she screamed for him to open it but there was no answer. The place was dead quiet. 

Have I just been locked in? She collapsed on the floor, and curled her knees around her, wrapping her arms around her.

“Why did they bring me here?” Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she sobbed quietly, waiting anxiously for the door to open.

After what seemed like an eternity to her, she heard the sound of the lock and the door opened.

“Sir,” she rose up violently from the floor and wiped her face. 

The man walked inside the office and watched her with a piercing gaze. Camelia swallowed hard when he stared at her silently and coldly; she had never had an encounter with the Chief Security himself.

“Why am… why am I here sir?” She stuttered, bracing up the courage to stare into his eyes.

“Raphael,” he called out instead and a man in a police uniform came in.

He brought out the cuffs and approached Camelia. “You are under arrest for the wrong prescription.”