Page 32 of Due Process
She rolled her eyes.Rolled. Her. Fucking. Eyes.
“Well, the first one’s pretty self-explanatory. We’re getting divorced. And the second, well, those are papers for you to sign the company over to me.”
I waited for the punchline or the camera crew to tumble into the room and tell me it was all some elaborate prank.
But as the seconds ticked by, a heavy gravity seemed to pull me downfurther and furtheruntil I couldn’t breathe.
Alright,nowI was on the verge of flipping from panic into a full-blown anxiety attack.
With what little breath I had left, I managed to mumble, “You’re serious?”
And with complete detachment, my beautiful wife replied, “Deadly.”
Who is this person? A complete stranger I have never met before. This isn’t my Stella, my best friend, my confidante.
Where did that person go?Myperson?
Thoughts ricocheted together in a jumbled mess, trying to make sense of the bizarre scenario. Terror was steadily taking over my body, my entire system malfunctioning due to the whiplash of conflicting emotions.
There was no explanation, except for one. The company—it always came down to money and power.Always.
I latched onto that flash of anger, letting it bolster me out of my initial shock. I never thought she could have used me like that—alas, she was patient, a fucking sleeper cell, awaiting my most vulnerable moment to rip everything away.
Old warnings from my dad suddenly pushed to the forefront. The multiple rants about women and how they were always after one thing.
And here is the proof, right in front of me.
With pure venom, I met my wife’s cold, unfeeling gaze and said, “My father tried to warn me you were a gold-digging whore.”
SLAP.Her assault was so fast, it took a few seconds for my cheek to register the burn from the impact.
“There’s only one whore in this marriage, Felix, and it’s not me.”
Stella swiftly followed up her words by slapping a photo on the cold, hard surface of the conference table. An incriminating and equally disgusting photo of Heather being fuckedby me.
It was right there. In full technicolour. No editing required.
I sat stunned as Stella continued to slam photo after photo on top of one another.
Agony tore through me with the precision of a sniper rifle as each piece of evidence ricocheted like a bullet straight through my chest.
“Youfucked this,”she snapped, her tone condemning and vicious.
Bang.A photo of Heather and me, realigning our clothes as we exited the photocopy room. I had been in a rush, trying to catch Alicia after she walked in on us.
“Youfuckedus.”
Bang.A photo of Heather inourhouse, her hand on my chest. It looked like an intimate gesture, when in reality, I was threatening her to get the hell out.
“Youfucked upeverything, Felix.You.” A small tinge of anguish rippled through her voice. And I couldn’t take it.
My wife was trying to be brave, trying to weather the category five disaster I had created.
I wet my dry lips in desperation, wanting to save my marriage.I’ll do anything to save my marriage.
“Sweetheart—”
“Don’t ever call me that again. When was the last time you fucked her, Felix? Tell me when.”
