Chapter 8
The doctor informed me that I wasn’t ready to be discharged yet. So, I settled in, focusing on my recovery. By the next day, I still hadn’t received any word from Zachary–not a call or a message. I smirked inwardly, suspecting he was probably caught up in some romantic escapade.
Noticing my gloomy mood, Wilma, the nurse, tried to lift my spirits with some juicy hospital gossip as she delivered my lunch. “Oh, Ms. Sterling, you wouldn’t believe the wild antics of the younger crowd these days!“}
“Just earlier, I walked past the emergency room–a couple, stark naked! Can you imagine? Right there in the middle of the hallway!“>
“My nephew works in the ER, and he said they got so carried away, they ended up like conjoined twins!”
As she shared the gossip, Wilma set the meal on the table and picked up a magazine to show me. “Rumor has it, the man’s some big shot, and the woman’s his secretary. Look here, that’s him–doesn’t he clean up well?“>
I glanced at the magazine and recognized Zachary immediately. With a plan forming in my mind, I quickly called the private investigator I had hired to gather evidence of Zachary’s infidelities.)
“Don’t worry, Ms. Sterling,” the Pl reassured me. “We’re on it. You’ll get your money’s worth.“0
Wilma’s eyes widened with interest. “Ms. Sterling, is this about your husband?” she asked, rubbing her hands together with a knowing grin.
can’t stand a cheating rat,” she declared. “They need a good dose of justice.“>
I raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue.}
“Well, I dabble in filming little snippets of life. Just so happened, I caught that couple on camera from the ambulance to the ER.“}
“I was on the second floor shooting. No one even noticed, and you can see their faces clear as day.“”
I paid Wilma $10,000 for the video, and she beamed with delight. “Ms. Sterling, you’re gonna get your just desserts!“>
Seizing the momentum, I called the police to report the incident. They agreed to investigate at the club, and I provided my injury report as evidence. However, due to the domestic nature of the issue, Zachary might only face a few days in custody. To push things further, I’d need to take him to court. And since Zachary was still hospitalized, enforcement was on hold.”
I wasn’t in a rush. While he was laid up, I had time to gather all the evidence I needed. I reached out to my lawyer to start the divorce and property division. Not a penny would I leave behind. As I orchestrated my plans, Zachary was lost in his little fantasy, thinking he’d covered his tracks well.
The day Zachary was discharged, he returned home to find the place nearly empty. All those memories we shared–the wedding photos, love notes, and trinkets we chose together–gone. He stormed through the house, fuming and searching for me.
“Rosalind, this is too much! All I did was ask you to clean the bathroom better, and you call the cops?“>
“Are you insane? You’re tarnishing my reputation and faking injury reports? If you don’t clear this up, we’re getting divorced.”
When he saw the bare walls where our wedding photos used to hang, he froze, dumbfounded. “Where are our wedding pictures?“>
I turned to face him, my voice cold and steady. “Gone. Made room for your new flame.”
His eyes fell to my empty belly, his face draining of color. “Darling, where’s our baby?”
