Chapter 6: He never came

The sunlight crept through the thin curtains in the living room, brushing softly against my face. I blinked awake, my body stiff from sleeping on the couch. For a brief second, I expected to hear Marcus moving around,

But the house was still silent.

He never came home.

I sat up slowly, my head heavy, my chest even heavier, my legs weak, as I walked into the bathroom. His toothbrush was still there. His cologne still lingered faintly in the air. I splashed water on my face, trying to wash away the tightness in my eyes. When I looked into the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. She looked smaller. Broken in places she didn’t know existed.

“Pull yourself together, Anna,” I whispered.

But even my voice sounded unsure.

I walked into the living room; my phone lay on the table I sat down slowly as I picked it up,

I called his office, my fingers trembling; what they told me shattered me.

“Marcus resigned over a month ago.” My mind went blank.

Over a month?                  

If he hadn’t been working… then where had he been going all those nights he came home late? Where had he been disappearing to while I waited, trusting him?

Jessie’s words echoed in my head like a cruel prophecy. But I refused to believe the worst. I told myself he was somewhere safe, somewhere he would return from. Still, the truth remained — he wasn’t here. And that absence was killing me.

By noon, panic had settled into my chest like a heavy stone. Then it hit me, if anyone knew where Marcus might be, it would be his mother.

 It was my day off, so I didn’t waste another second. I grabbed my bag and rushed out, heading straight to the hospital where she had been receiving treatment.

When I entered her room, she sat on the bed in her hospital gown, as if nothing in the world could touch her. She didn’t even look up when I walked in.

“Mother,” I called softly.

She ignored me.

“Mother,” I called again.

She finally lifted her eyes, sighed in annoyance, and said coldly, “What are you doing here? You know I don’t like seeing your pitiful face.”

My throat tightened.

“Mother… Marcus gave me a divorce letter we had no problem. I don’t know where he is and he hasn’t been picking my calls. Please… help me mother.” I cried to her

She laughed softly, cruelly.

“First of all, I am not your mother. Go look for your real whore of a mother at a brothel. And secondly, I am not my son’s keeper.”

Her eyes burned into mine. “He has finally come to his senses. Instead of finding someone better, he settled for trash like you.”

The words cut deep

Anger rushed through me before I could stop myself.

“Don’t you think you are the reason your son is hurting?” I snapped, clenching my teeth as I stared into her eyes.

“You keep demanding more from him to maintain your fake, pretentious life with your friends. You gamble away the money he gives you, you think I don’t know but I kept quiet. You do nothing for yourself. And now you have heart disease — do you think that isn’t too much for him to carry?”

Silence filled the room.

Her eyes widened in shock.

I had never spoken to her like this before.

Despite her cruelty, I had always respected her. I had loved her. I had hoped one day she would accept me.

 She recovered quickly, her face twisting with rage.

“How dare you talk back to me!” she shouted. “Now I see your true colors. I am glad my son left you. You will be alone again — just like your useless mother was left you all a alone!”

Her words crushed what little strength I had left.

I stood there, trembling, realizing that I had come searching for comfort…

Only to be reminded that I had never truly belonged.

Unable to breathe inside the hospital walls, I found myself wandering until my feet carried me to the park. I sat on of the beach feeling just as empty.  Staring into nothingness — just like my thoughts, leaving me even lonelier.

 From a distance, the bell of the Catholic Church rang deep and solemn, its heavy voice rolling across like a slow heartbeat. Each toll vibrated through the air, steady and powerful, echoing between stone walls and streets. It’s felt less than a sound and more like presence calling out to me and without thinking, I followed it.

Inside the church, I sat with tears sliding down my face in silence. I watched people come and go, carrying their own burdens, while mine felt unbearable. Fear crept into my chest. Not just fear of losing Marcus… but fear of being alone again.

Then a low groan broke the silence.

I stiffened and slowly turned toward the pew beside me.

A man sat there, dressed in an expensive black suit. One of his eyes covered with a patch, and his posture tense with pain. He looked powerful… but wounded.

I hesitated, and then slowly approached him.

He lifted his face. His visible eye was dark as coal cold, sharp, and unreadable.

“What do you want?” he asked, scanning me from head to toe as if measuring my worth.

“I don’t want anything,” I replied softly. “You looked like you were in pain. I only wanted to help.”

He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “You’re the one who looks like you need help.” Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick bundle of cash. “If it’s money, I can fix that.”

The gesture burned.

I stared at the money hanging between us, insulted and humiliated. Without another word, I turned and walked out of the church, my chest tight with anger and pride.

The moment I stepped outside, my breath stopped. Across the street was Marcus getting into a luxury car.

I tried to call his name, but the noise of traffic swallowed my voice. Horns blared. People pushed past me. And then — he drove away.

My heart pounded wildly. Where did he get that kind of money?

Was that car his? Only one thought remained.

I had to follow him. I rushed into the nearest taxi and gasped to the driver, “Please, follow that car.”

And in that moment, I quietly knew I was stepping into a truth I was never ready to face.