Chapter 1 Divorce
"You're mine now," Reynaldo Humphrey declared, cuffing me to the bed.
I loved Reynaldo's younger brother, Winston, but a drunken mistake at an alumni reunion led to Reynaldo taking advantage of me. The scandal erupted, publicly humiliating me. With no other options, my father arranged our marriage.
Reynaldo had a miserable childhood, neglected by his father after his parents' divorce. I never liked his dark, brooding presence, but my father approved of him, which sealed our fate. My heart, however, belonged to Winston, filling me with a bitter resentment toward Reynaldo.
I took every opportunity to lash out. I made him sleep on the floor; our bed was never shared. At the dining table, my elder brother Quentin and I relentlessly mocked him, refusing him a single bite. Once, when caught in the rain with friends, Reynaldo brought an umbrella, yet I still snapped at him. I couldn't find peace unless I was verbally assaulting him.
Reynaldo, though, was a strange man. No matter how my family and I bullied or insulted him, he remained unfazed, always amicable. He was good-looking, but in school, he was taciturn, struggled with tests, and constantly repeated grades. His name was synonymous with disappointment among students. In stark contrast, his brother Winston was optimistic, handsome, and academically brilliant—a true star. The thought of Reynaldo crushing the budding romance between Winston and me fueled my rage.
One night, I kicked Reynaldo, who was sound asleep on the floor, and demanded water. He quickly got up, bringing me a glass of warm water, it being early autumn. But the memory of the alumni reunion, of his transgression, consumed me. Overwhelmed by anger, I threw the water in his face. Even then, he didn't react, simply walking quietly to the bathroom. A flicker of guilt stirred within me as I watched his tall, silent figure, but it vanished instantly, replaced by the burning resentment for my ruined happiness.
For three years, he endured my bullying and insults. During that time, much changed: my family went bankrupt, I inexplicably developed feelings for him, and then… he asked for a divorce.
"The girl I like has returned," he stated, handing me the divorce agreement. My heart constricted, a profound sadness stealing my breath. Yet, my pride, as spoiled as I was, refused to show any weakness. I signed the agreement without a moment's hesitation.
"Do you want the chauffeur to give you a ride?" he asked, his voice lukewarm. It took a moment to grasp his meaning. This house, my home for over twenty years, was no longer mine. My family was broke, all our properties sold. Reynaldo, the man we'd scorned as a worthless live-in son-in-law, had secretly built a thriving business and bought our villa. I couldn't blame him or demand a share; he earned it, suffering our humiliation in silence for years. He was a self-made man, having never taken a cent from us.
Reynaldo simply watched me, not pressing for an answer. His gentle demeanor highlighted my past cruelty, making me blush with shame. The tables had turned; I was vulnerable, and he was in power. He had every right to retaliate, but he remained as tender as ever.
"No, I'll go back on my own," I quickly replied, then bolted from the house in a panic.
"Did you come here for something tonight?" his calm voice called from behind me.
"No, nothing," I mumbled, darting out of the yard without looking back.
It was raining outside. I clutched the gift in my hand. Today was our third wedding anniversary. I had been a horrible wife, but now that I realized my feelings for him, I wanted to celebrate for once. Instead, he gave me a divorce agreement. I smiled bitterly, letting the rain soak me through.
The next day, I woke up sick and feverish. A commotion outside drew me from bed. I stumbled out to find my father perched on a wall of our new, run-down apartment building, threatening to jump. My mother was weeping, vowing to follow him. My head pounded as I tried to comfort my father, assuring him that being broke wasn't the end, that hope remained as long as we were alive.
His intense gaze fixed on me, making my heart skip a beat. "Ask Reynaldo to help me, will you? He's your husband. He'll surely help us out."
My mother echoed, "Yes. We were mean to him, but he'll help us for your sake. Go beg him."
I smiled bitterly. They had no idea Reynaldo had already left me. I refused, but my father's threats of suicide left me no choice.
For this purpose, my mother used her meager money to buy me a deep V-neck dress and sexy stilettos. She even hired a makeup artist to ensure I looked my best. Staring at my reflection, I sneered. I looked less like someone going to beg and more like someone trying to seduce him. Yet, I knew even if I stripped naked, he wouldn't be interested.
One thought still haunted me: why had he slept with me that night? Was he drunk too? Did he mistake me for the girl he liked? I pushed the upsetting thought aside. To silence my parents, I decided to go to Reynaldo for help.
I learned he was in his office and headed there in my new outfit. My parents waited outside the building, their expectant looks breaking my heart, leaving me speechless. On his floor, staff gave me strange looks, and harsh whispers and mockery reached my ears. I pretended not to hear, squared my shoulders, and entered Reynaldo's office.
But the moment I saw him, I crumbled. Reynaldo sat in his chair, smiling at me with a distinguished air...