The final blow

Chapter Four

“How are you feeling?” She heard the nurse ask.

“Im fine, please leave.” She managed to mumble. 

Deep down she knew the nurse was Just doing her job, but her agony eroded her common sense.

 She say on the bed, leaning by against the pillow, hands on  her laps and the divorce papers still on the table.

“I have another family you see.” The words rang in her head for hours.

She hadn't slept. She hadn't eaten. Her head throbbed, her body ached, the miscarriage and the whirlwind of the emotions that had occurred in her since that day killed her spark.

At that second, the door opened and Damien walked in.

"Damien." She mumbled, looking up at him. "You're back? I had a crazy nightmare, you told me you were leaving me, you told me you had another family, you loved another woman-“

“It was not a dream.” Damien said, cutting her off. 

Her heart sank. She was not in the mood to say any more. Not after everything. Not after she had deluded herself into believing the divorce was a nightmare. 

"Who? Who is she?" She mumbled. “How… long have you been seeing her?” 

Damien took a deep breath before answering her questions, “it’s Nadia.”

Sofia felt the air get sucked out of her. “Your… your ex? You have been seeing your ex behind my back?”

“I did not do it to hurt you… she…she is the mother of my kid.” Damien replied. 

Her stomach twisted in fury and in disbelief. "Mother of your kid?What... what are you saying?" asked she, trembling. 

"I'm saying that she's here. That she's back with my child. I want to be with her and the child.“  Damien said, like that it were a normal thing, but not an attack on the woman who had given him all. “I want to give her another chance. I want to build a family with her.”

The room swiveled slightly and Sofia bit her lip till she tasted blood. Her hands were shaking, but this time it was not the weakness, but the anger and humiliation and heartbreak made one. "You... you're... leaving me... for her? You are giving her another chance? After I begged you, bleeded for days , cried… you are giving that all to another woman? Because…because she has a child for you?”

"Yes," he said plainly. "Sign the papers. I'll give you alimony. You'll be taken care of."

Alimony. She found the phrase an offensive and degrading. Everything that she had lost, all her tears, all her work, all the years of heartache and pains we went through anytime she had a miscarriage would be paid back in money. Her throat ached, her eyes were clouded and she would like to scream a bit. She would like to remind him of what she had endured. She would like to remind him of how much she had sacrificed for his sake. She would like hom remind him of the bridges she burnt just so she could be with him!

However, instead of falling apart completely, a fraction of her transformed. The insult, the disgrace, the hopelessness all turned into rage. She would no longer be the woman who is at the mercy of his decisions. She would survive this. She would survive him.

She picked up the pen slowly and cautiously. Her hands shook, her head was straight. She was signing the divorce forms. Each stroke of the pen was a  painful reminder her efforts had gone to waste but a necessary operation towards restoring to her something of her dignity that was left.

She then removed her wedding ring after  the papers were signed.

She laid it on the hospital bed alongside  the papers. “All the best.” Damien said as he picked up the paper and the ring, leaving the room without giving her as much as a second glance.

She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes.  The decision was a painful one to arrive at, yet it provided her with a queer sense of control. Yes, she was maimed, rebroken, too, but she had made her mind up. She would cease being an object to be used and discarded once she was no longer needed. She would take control of her own life now.

But first, she needed to go back to the ashes of a bridge she had burnt. Picking up her phone, she calls her father. 

“Father,” she said, in a small and shaky voice. "I... I need you. It's... it's over. Damien... he... he's..."

She stammered, forcing the words out of her throat. "He... he has another family. I'm... I'm divorced now. 

The other end said nothing, and then the voice of her father, Javier, was heard. "Sofia... stay where you are. I'm coming. Don't move."

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours, finally, she heard a familiar  voice at the door. 

A couple of seconds later Javier was standing beside her bed and gazed at her with the fury and tenderness in his eyes. He bent on his knees, clasped her hand in his hands.

"How is my little girl?" he asked, his voice softening.

Sofia looked at him through teary eyes. Her heart ached, her body was worn, but his presence there was a relief. "I... I'm okay now. I... I signed the papers. It's... it's done."

Javier's jaw tightened. “This... this is what I had told you to avoid. But it's over now. Let's get you home."