AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eli leftthe house the night he shattered my world to pieces and went on a business trip to the States for a whole week.
After his swift exit from the library, the house, and my immediate vicinity, the only form of care I received was through Sam.
She found me in my bedroom with my nightgown bunched up as I stared at his angry flushed-pink handprints on my arse. So she produced some soothing gel, pills, and her usual poker face.
For the first time, I was happy for her emotionless existence because I couldn’t bear the shame that was probably written all over my face.
She also probably ate a piece of the cake as a form of compassion for all the hours I spent stupidly making him the dinner he never ate. I spilled the soup down the drain and dumped the cake in the bin as if I were burying the humiliation that tugged on every corner of my soul.
The whole week, I indulged in overspending, pumping charities with Eli’s money to cleanse his satanic soul, and practicing my cello harder than when I used to prepare for a competition.
After my last performance, I was called again to play for a nonprofit event that I think I aced. This time, there were no flowers, but there was a text.
Tin Man
Heard you’re playing tonight.
Me
To what do I owe this honor? Do you finally realize that I exist?
Good luck.
You’re the one who’ll need luck when I get my hands on you.
What will you do? When you get your hands on me, I mean.
Oh, nothing much. Claw your eyes out, for starters.
Not a strong incentive to invite me to put myself in your vicinity.
That’s because you’re a coward, dear husband. You can’t handle me, so you run away as far as you can. Why don’t you divorce me and spare us both the hassle?
The D-word is not going to happen so you might as well remove it from your vocabulary. And it’s not that I can’t handle you. It’s the other way around.
You were the one who left, not the other way around.
?
??????
Better not agitate you before a performance.
I hate you.
*thumbs-up emoji*
If you don’t come back by tomorrow, I’m moving out.
So I did do well with that performance, mainly because I was fired up and so pissed off, I took the allegro up a notch. I was brave enough to invite both my parents and parents-in-law. A decision rather foolish in hindsight, considering Papa can’t stand Uncle Aiden.
I’m glad I booked a private room at a members-only Asian restaurant so at least the rest of the guests won’t call the police on us.
While I sit between Mama and Aunt Elsa—both women elegant in stunning cocktail dresses and chic hairstyles, Papa and Uncle Aiden, who are facing us, are more concerned with glaring at each other instead of consuming their food.
Papa is wearing an impeccable tuxedo with a white tie. His lean and muscular frame still fills the jacket and the room with a charismatic aura. Uncle Aiden, on the other hand, is clad in a tailored suit and a cocky smirk that I swear he passed down to his less likable son.
While Uncle Aiden has a ruthless reputation in the world, he’s always been a doting uncle when it comes to me. Probably because Aunt Elsa takes her godmother role very seriously just like Aunt Kim, Cecy’s mum, takes hers when it comes to the headache, Ari.
