When I took the phone, my hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold it. Wilbert wiped my tears with his own hands and opened the app for me and even recorded the video himself.
Thirty seconds, that was all. I said I would not pursue responsibility and that everything was just an accident. I handed the phone back and I asked weakly if I could finally do surgery for my dad.
He looked at me for a moment and then nodded. “Start…” he said.
But before the word even finished, I heard Nivianne cry out from the operating room. “Ah, my head… I’m so dizzy.” Then she just collapsed.
Wilbert panicked right away and ran to her, carrying her body out like she was the only one that mattered. The doctors rushed after him and left my dad still lying there on the bed. The alarms kept blaring and my tears would not stop. I screamed, “Don’t go, save my dad! Please, Wilbert, you promised, you said you would save him!”
I tried to block him, but he never even looked at me. His eyes were only on Nivianne. He pushed past me and rushed to the next bed with the doctors. Their hurried footsteps crushed against mine and the pain was too much to even form words.
I was too late.
I clung to his legs and begged him, but he shoved me off like I was nothing. He even kicked me hard to get rid of me. I flew back and slammed my head against the wall. My eyes caught sight of my dying father lying helplessly on the bed and I thought my heart had been torn to shreds.
“Dad, Dad!” I cried, but Wilbert’s voice cut through the noise.
“Don’t be afraid, Nivianne. I’m right here, okay? I'm right here...” He said it with so much fear in his tone, but it was not for me.
He looked back only because of the sound of my head hitting the wall. Then he waved to two interns and sent them into my dad’s ward. “Your father won’t die, I’ll keep my promise,” he said coldly. “But no one can stop me from saving Nivianne.”
The world turned black.
Before fainting, the only thought in my mind was that I needed to leave. I had to disappear from his world forever.
....
When I woke up, there was a card on my bedside table. A note was tucked under it. “Your dad’s surgery has to wait a little longer. That was all I needed to read. It meant one thing. For Nivianne, Wilbert could wait on anything. For me and for my dad, we were always second place.
My chest was hurting so bad I could barely breathe, and then suddenly I laughed. It was not the kind of laugh that makes you feel lighter. It was bitter and broken, the kind that comes out when your heart is tearing apart. Holding my chest, I picked up my phone and called Wilbert's grandfather. The one who wanted me gone.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll divorce him. But I need your help. Help me fake my death. I want to take my brother and my dad and disappear forever.”
Two days later, when I was discharged, I already had the divorce papers ready. My lawyer prepared everything.
When I walked back into the villa, Wilbert was just about to leave to fetch Nivianne from work. He stopped when he saw me. “You’re back? Why do you look so pale?” He sounded worried for a moment, as if my face mattered to him.
Pale. Of course I was pale.
My father was lying in a hospital bed like a vegetable, and my brother was locked away. Did he expect me to look fresh and glowing? I didn’t bother answering.
I just handed him the papers and said flatly, “Sign this.”
He froze for a second. “What is this?” he asked, but before I could reply, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, frowning, clearly in a rush. Without even reading, he scrawled his signature and shoved the papers back at me.
“Nivianne is waiting for me. If it’s another work document, just put it in my study next time,” he said, already halfway out the door.
I stared at the signature, at how easily he let me go, and I almost laughed again. He signed away our marriage like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.
Pathetic.
I tucked the papers away and headed straight to the courthouse.
.....
It was almost evening when I came back home, and I found him in the living room with Nivianne. He had his arm around her like she already belonged there. “She’s being followed by some crazy patient’s family,” he told me casually. “She’ll be staying in our master bedroom, and you can stay in one of our guest room. Thanks to the mess your brother created. Tsk. But don’t worry—I’ll move her to her to my newly bought penthouse once it’s safe.”
“Do whatever you want,” I said. The divorce was already done. This house wasn’t mine anymore. I had no strength left to fight.
He looked surprised at how calm I was, like he expected me to beg or scream. His frown deepened, but before he could speak, Nivianne piped up.
“Anika, I just came off a night shift and I haven’t eaten yet. Can you cook something for me, please?” she asked with a sweet smile, but her eyes were sharp with challenge. “Wilbert says your cooking is amazing, but I’ve never tasted it.”
“Ask the maid,” I said and turned to leave.
Her little whine followed me. Wilbert’s voice cut in, low and firm. “Anika.” That was all. He didn’t explain, he didn’t need to. I already knew. When Nivianne wanted something, I was expected to serve her.
