I stared coldly at Laura, who was fuming with rage. From the moment she walked in, not once did she ask how I was doing. My head was wrapped in thick bandages and she didn’t show even a sliver of concern. All she cared about was how this incident might tarnish her little boyfriend’s reputation.
It seemed she had never truly loved me. A wave of cold sorrow washed over me.
Well, just the ten years of love and hard work as if I had been blind before and thought I fed a dog.
"Laura, what gives you the right to ask me to drop the charges? Who are you to me? Why should I listen to you?” I asked with a low ice cold. I looked at her with a sharp gaze.
My wife, Laura, betrayed her husband and conspired with her boy toy to beat me into the hospital and yet she still had the nerve to demand things from me.
Laura looked stunned. She stayed silent for a while before flying into a rage.
“Antonio, how could you say that? We’ve been married for ten years and you’re seriously asking me who I am to you? Do you even have a heart?” she asked.
I let out a cold laugh. So she did remember we had been married for ten years.
“Then tell me … what are you to me? My wife?” I asked.
Laura paused. She looked annoyed.
Finally, she said, "I already explained everything to you. I did this because I want a good-looking healthy child. Why can’t you try to understand? Why do you always have to be so petty and unforgiving?"
"Oh, so explain this to me," I continued. "What’s the deal with the marriage certificate?"
Laura's face twisted with discomfort. She retorted, “Why are you still hung up on that? I've told you, haven't I? It was for the child. Why can't you understand?"
"Are you saying my children have to endure being called as a bastard behind their back? What about Doyle, he is still young. Should he be called a third party, the homewrecker? Wasn't giving them legal status the right thing to do?"
I closed my eyes as I tried to suppress the wave of pain and bitterness that threatened to drown me. She had told everyone we were child-free by choice and I played along. I even went as far as getting a vasectomy just to support her. To silence the gossip, I claimed I was infertile. I let the world think I was the problem.
No one said anything to my face, but behind my back, they all mocked me for being a weak, emasculated joke. I became the husband who lives off his wife.
It was true in the past few years since the Savas Group managed to get through its crisis and flourish. Everyone started treating me with disdain, acting like I was just a nobody who was marrying Laura for her money and status.
However apparently, Doyle still cared about his appearance, but I had no pride left to protect.
"Laura, are you saying I was your mistress?" I asked and looked at her eyes. My eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief. I had loved her for twenty years. And now, I was nothing but a clown in her play.
Laura stayed silent, then finally said coldly, "Antonio, I haven’t treated you badly. You’re the Vice President of Savas Group. I let you use the Savas Family name in high society. Haven’t I given you enough?"
“I’m the heir of the Savas Family, a woman with my own mind. If I want to have a child, why should I need your permission?” she declared.
Suddenly, I guffawed. Of course. Why would she need to ask me anything? Who am I to her, really?
Everything I did was just me making a fool of myself and being a self-serving bitch.
"Get out," I said through clenched teeth. "You disgust me, Laura. Get as far away from me as possible. I don’t want to see your face ever again."
Laura's face went white like a ghost. She whispered, "Antonio … how could you say that to me?"
Doyle exploded with rage. He slapped me hard across the head and it sent a jolt of pain through my skull.
“Who the hell are you calling disgusting?” he exclaimed. "If you dare insult Laura again, I’ll beat you to death.”
He pulled me off the hospital bed and once I was down, he started kicking me like a madman.
He was one point eighty-five meters high and graduated from a physical education school. So, when I tried to fight back, he kicked me square in the chest. I flew backward, slammed into the wall, then crumpled to the floor in a heap.
Doyle charged at me again, but just then, the door slammed open.
"Stop!" a loud voice roared. Several police officers stormed into the hospital room.
Ten minutes later, I sat in the police station, covered in bruises and drenched in cold sweat.
Beside me, Laura was frantically trying to smooth things over. She told the police, “It’s all just a misunderstanding, Officer. We’re … we’re family.”
