\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 12\u00a0<\/p>\n
I remembered one night. Late. I came home pissed off, exhausted, burning up with fever but still dragged my ass into the study. Papers everywhere. Deals that couldn\u2019t\u00a0<\/p>\n
wait.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She walked in quietly, holding a tray. A bowl of soup she cooked herself.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cEat first,\u201d she said. \u201cYou\u2019re gonna drop dead working like that.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t even lift my head. \u201cPut it there and go. I\u2019ve got shit to finish.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t leave.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She pulled a chair next to me and sat there the whole damn night. Cold towel on my forehead. Changing it when it got warm. Wiping the sweat off my face like I was made of glass.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I snapped at her. \u201cStop hovering. I\u2019m not some weak kid.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
She smiled. Not offended. Not hurt. Just soft.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cBut you\u2019re still my husband. Let me take care of you.\u201d My grip tightened around the ring.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Fuck.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Back then I didn\u2019t get it. I thought she was annoying. Too soft. Too damn patient. Now? I\u2019d trade my whole empire just to have that kind of love wrap around me one\u00a0<\/p>\n
more time.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I poured myself a drink and sat by the window, watching rain slam against the glass like it wanted in.\u00a0<\/p>\n
One glass turned into two. Two into three.\u00a0<\/p>\n
By the time my head got light, the memories got loud.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I hear my own voice first.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell are you doing here this late?\u201d I snapped that night outside the office. She was standing there under a black umbrella, rain soaking her sleeves anyway.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She said, \u201cI knew you\u2019d work late. I didn\u2019t want you walking out alone in the rain.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I remember scoffing.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t need to babysit me. Don\u2019t do this again.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
She nodded. Smiled.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. Just\u2026 get home safe.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I see it now. That smile cracked a little. I just didn\u2019t give a shit back then.\u00a0<\/p>\n
1\/4\u00a0<\/p>\n
45.0%\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:08 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
87\u00a0<\/p>\n
My hand tightened around the glass and it shattered. Whiskey and blood dripping down my fingers. I didn\u2019t even feel it.\u00a0<\/p>\n
What burned was the truth.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I called her clingy.\u00a0<\/p>\n
While I was busy buying Roxanne diamonds, silk dresses, flying her wherever she wanted.\u00a0<\/p>\n
And Isabella? I gave her leftovers. Cheap gifts. Scraps of time.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks, David,\u201d she\u2019d still say. Like I handed her the world.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Fuck.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I passed out before sunrise.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Woke up still in my suit, head pounding, smelling like booze and regret.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Another memory hit me hard.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A shareholders\u2019 meeting.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She wasn\u2019t supposed to be there. Wives weren\u2019t welcome. They liked them pretty and silent.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But Isabella showed up anyway. Standing at the back. Calm. Proud.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I pulled her aside after.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy\u2019d you come?\u201d I asked her. \u201cThey talk shit about you. They look down on you.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t even flinch.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cThey can say whatever they want about me,\u201d she said. \u201cAs long as they don\u2019t dare say it about you.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I remember saying nothing. I should\u2019ve shut that room down for her. I didn\u2019t.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She carried my name on her back while I let people step on her.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Then there was Ryle.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The day he was born, I was drunk on happiness. Real happiness.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I held that kid and laughed like an idiot.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I told her, \u201cYou gave me everything. You and him deserve the world.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I bought her a whole damn rest house by the sea.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Told her, \u201cWhen you\u2019re tired, take Ryle there. No noise. No blood. No business. Just peace.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
She smiled so wide it hurt my chest.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYou already gave me enough,\u201d she said.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
I was so sure I was a good husband then.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Now look at me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Isabella\u2019s gone.\u00a0<\/p>\n
87\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ryle\u2019s gone. Both of them were buried because I trusted the wrong person and ignored the woman who loved me like breathing. I dropped onto the couch, chest on fire.\u00a0<\/p>\n
My throat locked up and I couldn\u2019t hold it anymore.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I cried. Ugly. Broken. The kind that rips straight out of your lungs.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I whispered to the empty room.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI fucked up. I fucked it all up.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
No answer. No soft voice telling me it\u2019s okay. No small hands calling me Dad.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I killed her. Not with my hands, but with my choices. With my silence. With my blindness. With loving the wrong woman too damn much.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I say her name over and over now. Begging the air. Begging ghosts. Doesn\u2019t mean shit. She\u2019s gone. So is my son. And I\u2019m the bastard who put them in the ground.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The next three days ended with Westley on his knees in my warehouse.\u00a0<\/p>\n
They dragged him in half dead already. Face swollen. Mouth bleeding. Shoes gone. The second his knees hit the concrete and he smelled the place, he lost it. Full panic. Shaking so hard his teeth clicked.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cDavid\u2026 please\u2026 please don\u2019t do this,\u201d he cried before I even stepped out. \u201cI know where I am. I know what this means. I\u2019ll tell you everything. Everything.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I stayed in the dark. Gun loose in my hand. Calm. Quiet.\u00a0<\/p>\n
That scared him worse.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI swear I didn\u2019t want it to go this far,\u201d he sobbed. \u201cIt was business at first. Just business. I was following orders.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I walked closer. \u201cWhose orders.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He started crying harder, snot running down his face. \u201cRoxanne. It was Roxanne. Please don\u2019t shoot me. Please. I\u2019ll kneel. I\u2019ll beg. I\u2019ll do anything.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I crouched in front of him. \u201cWhy was my sister in law touching my wife\u2019s life.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He slammed his forehead to the floor. \u201cShe hated Isabella since they were kids. Always jealous. Always losing to her. She said you didn\u2019t love Isabella anymore. You were busy with her. I thought\u2026 I thought you wanted Isabella broken.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Click.\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:08 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
87\u00a0<\/p>\n
The sound alone made him scream.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNo no no no please,\u201d he wailed. \u201cI swear I didn\u2019t mean it like that. I tried to be gentle at first. She fought me. She screamed. I just wanted her quiet.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Bang.\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:08 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
Prepare the divorce and ruin your husband by Mark Twain 12 \u00a0 Chapter 12\u00a0 I remembered one night. Late. I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[60],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-23543","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-his-regret-my-victory-novel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23543","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=23543"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23543\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23543"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=23543"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=23543"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}