Richard froze, grabbing Kimberly's wrist. "Divorce? You want to divorce me?"
Before she could respond, Lotta whimpered, "My belly hurts so much. Richard, don't fight with her. I..."
She passed out mid-sentence, and Richard glared at Kimberly. "This is absurd! Stay here and think about what you've done!"
He scooped up Lotta and bolted out.
Amid the grave silence, the workers gave Kimberly sympathetic glances before hurrying away.
She stood up, grabbed a kitchen knife, and smashed the sculpture into pieces. Her heart ached densely, more from humiliation than pain.
It turned out that when Richard stopped loving someone, he could be utterly cruel. For three days straight, he didn't come home, and Lotta didn't text her again.
When Kimberly tried sending him the divorce agreement, she found he'd blocked her number. Unsure of his whereabouts, she turned to his assistant, who answered, "Mr. Munoz is at the lounge, having drinks."
She followed the location to the upscale lounge. In a private room, Richard was confiding in his best friend.
"You really blocked Kimberly for that woman? Have you forgotten how good she's been to you all these years?" said his friend.
Richard winced. "I do love Kimberly. Even after what happened to her, I fought everyone to make her my wife. But every time we're in bed, that reluctant look on her face makes me feel like I'm forcing her. She can't forget it, and neither can I."
He took a deep drag on his cigarette, his eyes softening. "But Lotta's different. I was her first. She's been with me without demanding any status. I already owe her so much. She's just like Kimberly was back then: pure and innocent. She has this bucket list of things I always wanted to do with Kimberly. Being with Lotta feels like reliving my youth. She deserves better."
Kimberly's hand froze on the door. So, that was how he saw her.
Seven years ago, she'd endured that horror to save him. But in his telling, it made her sound tarnished and unwilling.
She stumbled out of the lounge, lost. Outside, rain poured down, just like that stormy night seven years ago.
Back then, Richard had proposed to her. He'd just started his business but was getting squeezed from all sides. Then he'd stolen a big contract from a rival, making enemies.
That night, he said he had to entertain clients. Worried, Kimberly went to pick him up.
In the downpour, she saw him unconscious, being dragged into a van. Terrified, she chased after them until they reached an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts.
They'd drugged him deliberately and planned to break his legs.
She burst in, desperately begging them to spare him. But they grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the bushes.
She fought and pleaded, but they slapped her hard. "Make another sound, and we'll snap his legs. He'll be crippled for life!"
Eyes wide, she glanced at the unconscious Richard and went limp, like a marionette. Tears streamed down her face as the thugs crowed excitedly.
"This woman is an idiot, sacrificing herself for that guy. Bet he won't want her after we wreck her."
"We're desperados. If you go to the cops, we'll finish him off."
After they left, Kimberly suppressed her hysteria and got Richard home. When he woke, clueless, he grilled her about her swollen eyes and disheveled hair.
Afraid he'd do something reckless, she lied about running into a mugger. She never told him the truth, fearing lifelong guilt would consume him.
She didn't report it, terrified the thugs would harm him. Later, when nude photos of her arrived, he went ballistic, demanding answers.
She only said she'd been assaulted by thugs that rainy night. He was devastated, vowing to protect her forever.
In bed, he was patient, but nightmares constantly dragged her back to that trauma. Still, to avoid disappointing him, she forced herself to respond.
Now, it seemed he'd always viewed her as damaged goods. Her sacrifice felt like a tragic joke.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Lotta: [What do you think if I ask him for a wedding? Will he agree?]
