My illusion collapsed onto a pristine tiled floor. He doesn't love . The mont I woke up in the hospital, he made it clear. He disliked . The word dislike is an understatent. Abhorred would be the right word to describe how he feels towards .
The million dollar question now is, "What caused him to hate ?"
Suddenly, as if the heavens answered my question, my gaze dropped to the newspaper I placed on the side of the bed and found myself staring at the headline written in black capital letters and highlighted in red. THE 'BITCH OF THE CENTURY' IS BORN.
Unfolding the newspaper, to see the rest of the article, I found myself staring at the sordid image of a man and a woman locked in a passionate kiss. Shock hit like a sharp bolt of lightning, realizing that I was the woman and the handso man was not my husband.
WIFE OF LUCAS NICHOLAS ALEXANDER RAN OFF WITH HER LOVER THE NIGHT OF THEIR FIFTH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY. FOUR YEAR OLD SON NEARLY KILLED IN THE FATAL CAR CRASH.
Beside the scandalous picture, a car wreck was shown.
The newspaper slipped off my fingers. I stared at the wall blindly in shock, unable to believe the news. There were so many questions racing in my thoughts, but I couldn't answer them. But the newspaper certainly told why Lucas hated so much. I wasn't a faithful wife. To make matters worse, I took his child.
No, not just took his child, 'kidnapped' is the right term.
Despite the tightening in my chest, and the strong urge to burst into tears, I forced myself to pick up the newspaper and finish reading the news.
THE TRUCK DRIVER DIED AN INSTANT DEATH, LEAVING A GRIEVING WIDOW AND HIS FIVE LITTLE CHILDREN BEHIND.
That was the last straw. I couldn't hold my guilt anymore. I buried my face into my palms and burst into tears.
***
Learning the truth seed to drain all my life energy. I suddenly wished that I hadn't read the newspaper at all. But knowing the truth is inevitable. In a way or another, I will have to learn about it, anyway.
A voice inside my head kept chanting that it's all my fault. And what makes the pain triple worse is knowing that I am indeed at fault. If I hadn't run away that night with my lover, then the truck driver would still be alive. And a mother and five innocent children would still have a complete family. But no matter how I regret how things turned out, it's all too late now. A life was taken.
Lucas hates now, and I hated myself too.
The guilt on my chest made the day hell for . When lunch ca, I ate a little. If I were to choose, I wouldn't eat anything, but I knew I needed to. Recovering my strength is my top priority now. When I'm back on my feet, I will need to start all over again. If possible, or if it's still not too late, I will correct all my wrongdoings.
A soft knock sounded on the door, tearing out of my deep thoughts. The door then opened. A man strode inside, announcing a delivery. Before I could say a word, the door fully opened and two n carrying a coffin strode inside. They place the red coffin on the floor, just in front of . Engraved on the front side of it, written in gold letters, were the words, YOU MAY REST IN HELL.
"There must be a mistake." I gasped. "You deliver that thing to the wrong address." I added, looking at the coffin with a shock expression on my face.
Suddenly, I felt cold. My hands were shaking too. Whoever sent that thing thought it was a joke, but it wasn't funny at all.
"We certainly had the right address, Ma'am." replied the man. "We are inford that Mrs. Alexandria Alexander died. The coffin was for her." The man added with a shrug that soon made suspicious of him. He had no white-collar worker vibe in him, nor was he even wearing a company uniform.
Turning my hand into a ball, I gritted my teeth. "I order you to remove the thing out the door. please." I told him in the calst voice I could muster.
"Our only job is to deliver this item. You can do whatever you want with it, but we must be on our way to resu our delivery." He said rather rudely, turning his back in my direction while I was still talking to him.
I watched the n leave with my mouth dropping open.
I was still shaking all over when a nurse ca inside the room to check on . She was the sa nurse who lent the newspaper and magazine. "You didn't use the button to summon a nurse for the past four hours. I just want to make sure you're alright." She said before her gaze dropped to the coffin inside the room, and she gasped in disbelief.
"Mr. Alexander would be so furious!" She exclaid, her eyes widening in pure horror. She imdiately fished her phone in her pocket and dialed a number. "I would like to talk to Mr. Alexander. He told to call him if sothing important cos up."
"He's still in the eting? Just tell him that his wife received another gift again." There was a pause before the nurse spoke again. "A coffin." Whoever was on the other line must have muttered an exclamation of shock because the nurse winced and inched the phone away from her ears.
"Yes, please. Thank you." The call ended, and the nurse returned her phone inside her pocket. Swallowing hard, she looked at . "Are you alright?" she asked.
The nurse looked as white as paper. I should be the one asking if she was alright because she appeared to as though she was ready to pass out. Anyway, I tried to smile as I replied, "I'm fine." However, the smile on my lips died down when I spotted the note on top of the coffin. The nurse followed my gaze, and she saw the note, too. She then picked it up.
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