Chapter 5
Zachary stormed down the hallway, his footsteps echoing ominously through the house. With a swift, forceful kick, he slammed into the bathroom door, his frustration boiling over ‘Rosalind, enough already! Stop trying to get my attention. It won’t work. I’ll let you out after New Year’s, so just be quiet, will you?‘
I tried to call out for help, but my voice was nothing more than a dry, raspy whisper. Blood continued to pool beneath me, a stark reminder of my despair. To punish me, Zachary had dragged Lilian to the bathroom door as a show of power.
“Zachary, let Lilian go! Rosalind’s still in there; she can hear you,‘ someone pleaded.
“Lilian’s not just any girl, Zachary retorted, more fired up by Lilian’s coy smile. Desperate, my eyes darted to the window, silently pleading for someone to notice the jacket I’d tossed out as a signal for help. Suddenly, the sky exploded with vibrant fireworks, marking the arrival of a new year. Zachary’s tone shifted as he turned back to the door.
“Happy New Year, my little wildcat,” he cooed softly. His words were met with the sound of Lilian’s eager kisses. “Mew Mew Mew~” Through the frosted glass, their intertwined silhouettes danced mockingly before me. Memories of Zachary and our past life together flooded my mind, a bittersweet reel of what once was.
I was an orphan, making my way through life on scholarships and hard work. I met Zachary during a campus event where I was speaking as a top student–confident, composed, and seemingly untouchable. Zachary, two years my senior, claimed it was love at first sight. He was captivated, and from that day onward, he pursued me relentlessly, learning everything he could about me.!!
His family, the Harringtons, was well–to–do, and I initially turned him down, believing we were from different worlds. But Zachary was persistent, sticking by me for two years, rain or shine, determined to win my heart. As someone who had been abandoned, the love and attention he offered were intoxicating. No one had ever cared for me so deeply before.
Eventually, I gave in, and we officially became a couple. We strolled through campus together and kissed on deserted streets, moments that taught me what happiness truly felt like. I learned that Zachary was the illegitimate son, one of many children from his father’s numerous affairs. He was determined to prove himself, to show the Harringtons he didn’t need their name to succeed. Together, we built a business from the ground up, and soon people were calling us the perfect couple, a match made in heaven. We were each other’s salvation. But everything changed when I got pregnant. My body transformed, and the pregnancy was tough on me. Zachary suggested I leave my job to rest at home, convinced the child we had waited seven years for was more important than anything else.
I agreed, not realizing how this decision would unravel our lives. While I was at home, Zachary hired a new secretary–a young, beautiful woman named Lilian. I couldn’t deny her allure; she was stunning, with an angelic face and a figure to match. The first time I met Lilian was in Zachary’s office lounge. He introduced her nonchalantly.
“This is Lilian, my new secretary. She’s a junior from our college. She wasn’t feeling well and still came to work, so I let her rest here.” Lilian smiled coyly, “Mrs. Harrington, I’m so sorry. You understand how it is for us women.”
I felt uneasy and told Zachary to be careful. If Lilian was truly unwell, she should’ve taken the day off, not sprawled on the couch of a married man. Zachary brushed off my concerns, saying I was overly sensitive. “Pregnant women get paranoid, Rosalind. You were never like this.
1 started to doubt myself, convinced I was the problem. But as time went on, I noticed Zachary and Lilian growing closer. Unfamiliar women’s slippers appeared in the office, clothes that weren’t mine, pink decorations on the desk, and makeup scattered in drawers. One night, after Zachary didn’t come home, I caught sight of a love bite on his neck.
I erupted, demanding to know if he was cheating. Zachary simply looked at me, his eyes cold and detached, as if observing a madwoman. ‘Have you finished your tantrum?“%
Chapter 6
