Chapter 4
When I woke up, the sharp scent of disinfectant filled my nose. I struggled to sit up.
A short–haired woman with earrings helped me
- up.
My voice was weak, my eyes brimming with tears. “It’s you…”
It was Candice, my best friend from years ago. But I had cut ties with her because Ken didn’t like her. Seven years had passed without any
contact.
“What’s wrong? Not happy to see me?” she asked wryly. “Or are you disappointed because it’s not Ken?”
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Candice stood up, seemingly ready to leave. I grabbed her, and as she stumbled, I held her tight. “No… it’s not that…”
As soon as I embraced her, I couldn’t hold back anymore, tears streamed down my face. “Thank God… it’s you… I have nothing left, Candice, I only have you…”
Her body tensed for a moment before she slowly placed her warm hand on my back, gently patting it.
I had loved Ken for so many years, doing
whatever he asked.
His family was poor back then, while mine, though not wealthy, had saved some money
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through my parents‘ business.
When his mother was diagnosed with cancer, my parents forced him to marry me by offering to pay for the surgery. He said he would marry me, and I naively felt happy for a long time.
But soon after, my parents lost everything in a scam. They said it was Ken’s doing, but I didn’t believe them and cut ties with them as well.
I endured the disdain from my in–laws and broke off my only friendship for him. I bet on his love and lost everything. My daughter was gone, and my only source of strength was gone too. I knew it was time to free myself from this
relationship.
After being discharged, I returned home. I called
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for Ken, but there was no answer. A message
from Ken pinged on my phone.
“Cloris, Hannah’s surgery was a success. We’re going out to celebrate. I’ll be home late.”
Of course, only when it was about Hannah did
Ken have more to say to me.
My heart ached, and I locked my phone. The house was empty and lifeless, yet clean, proof
that she had once lived here.
I sat on the sofa, my gaze falling on a half–empty box of milk powder on the table, the lid covered in a thin layer of dust. My daughter had been so well–behaved and sensible, never causing trouble. All she wanted was her father and mother, a complete family.
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My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a few knocks on the door. I opened it, and a massive shadow loomed over me.
Ken was drunk, with Hannah supporting him. The sight of them was intimate, filled with ambiguity.
“Cloris, Ken had a bit too much to drink,” Hannah said firmly, her voice betraying no hint of illness. “Please take good care of him.”
My voice, tinged with anger, couldn’t conceal my feelings. “Hannah, aren’t you afraid? That was a human life!”
She merely fiddled with her nails and replied, “So what?”
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“Everyone gets what they deserve eventually. Karma will get you!”
She shoved Ken into my arms and ignored me. As she reached the stairwell, her lips curled into a slight smile, and she mouthed to me, “I’ll be waiting.”