At this point, I was scared, but I decided to play it cool and ignore him. But then Timothy stormed at me, grabbing my wrist so tight it hurt. I hissed in pain, telling him to let go, but he just told me to answer him first.
“What would you do if I forged your signature to pay for my father’s medical expenses?” I asked, trying to stay calm. “After all, I’m your wife, and Sandra isn’t. But you’ve got the nerve to buy her a brand new house.”
Timothy looked at me, his face showing surprise that I knew. He hadn’t expected that. Then he sighed and said, “I asked you this morning if you’d been poking around reading the house papers, and you played innocent. Now you’re acting like you know everything.”
“I don’t know what’s more pathetic,” he muttered, “your lies or your attempts to cover them up.”
“Look who’s talking,” I snapped back. “A big liar like you calling me one? I’ve caught you with Sandra more times than I can count, kissing and doing God knows what. Yet you still deny it, and now you’re calling me a liar.”
I saw his face turn red. “You’re mad because your wife can’t ask you for money, so now she’s trying other ways to get what she needs, huh?” I shot back.
Timothy barked at me, saying, “It’s theft!”
“It’s not theft,” I fired back. “I’m not stupid. I know you bought Sandra a Louis Vuitton bag, and you gave her a house. How many other things have you gifted her?”
He just stared at me, speechless for a moment. Finally, he said, “You’re poking around too much. You stole from me.”
I glared at him. “I’m your wife, and you need to treat me like one. If you’re not ready to do your obligations, then divorce me. I want out of this loveless marriage.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “You think I’ll divorce you?” he asked. “You have no one. No money, no family. Your mother would never accept you if you divorced me.”
His words hit me hard. I tried not to show it, but I could feel the weight of his words sinking in. He knew he had struck a nerve because he smiled.
“You’re stuck with me forever,” he said, his voice cold and full of finality.
I stormed out of the house, driving aimlessly. My mind was a mess, and my heart hurt. Timothy had done it again. He made me feel so stupid, so worthless. I tried hard not to cry, but the tears came anyway. My vision blurred, and the faster I drove, the more I felt like I couldn’t stop.
The road seemed endless, but all I could think about was the past, the accident that left my dad in the hospital.
I remembered that day so clearly. I was driving with my mother in the passenger seat and my dad in the back. We were arguing, my mother and I, of course, and she told me to pull over. She tried to grab the steering wheel from me. I fought back, and we struggled. I lost control, swerving to avoid an oncoming car. The next thing I knew, the car was in the bushes, tumbling over and over.
I woke up 14 days later, my head pounding and the news hitting me. My dad would never walk again. The memory was still so fresh in my mind, but now, it felt like I was reliving it. I was speeding again, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just felt this weight pulling me down.
And then, the crash happened.
The car slammed into a tree. The glass shattered, and some pieces pierced my skin. I gasped in pain, but the sobs took over. I cried, screamed my frustration into the emptiness around me.
Then I heard footsteps, a car stopping beside me. I could barely focus through my tears, but I felt the seatbelt unbuckle. It was Timothy.
He pulled me out of the car, his hands rough as he moved me. “I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said, his voice full of urgency.
But then his phone rang.
I heard Sandra’s voice on the other end, crying, begging him to come quickly. Timothy’s expression changed. He let go of me, tossing me roughly onto the ground. “I’ll call an ambulance for you,” he said coldly, “but I have to go.”
I lay there, staring up at him in shock as he left. He zoomed off, not caring.
The way he tossed me, it made my stomach hit the ground hard. Suddenly, I felt something warm and wet between my legs. Pain shot through my belly. I reached down slowly, my hands trembling, and that’s when I saw it. Blood.
My baby.
I whispered weakly before everything went black.
