ManyWriters

I lay gravely ill in the hospital, on the brink of death, as Jerome Baldwin cradled me in his arms, his face etched with worry. He reassured me, "Tania, I've given 20 vials of blood for you. You'll pull through."
Believing I was asleep, he turned to the nurse and instructed, "Hurry, take these 19 vials to Room 333 for Jessica Almaz."
The nurse hesitated, saying, "We're out of KEN-type blood bags in the hospital. One vial might not suffice..."
Jerome impatiently waved her off, "It's my blood, my decision. One vial will do. As long as she survives, it's enough!"
I kept my eyes shut tight, but a solitary tear escaped. Later, I found someone willing to donate blood to me indefinitely.
Jerome, however, became frantic, insisting that his blood was his to distribute, to draw as much as needed, as he saw fit. But I no longer required it.

My Husband's Life-Saving Lies Exposed

Jerome inundated me with countless voicemails, his tone seething: "Tania, since when did you get a partner? You've certainly become daring!"


I only listened to the initial and final messages: "Tania, don't make me come looking for you!"


Recently, Jerome had been too preoccupied with Jessica to respond to the property manager's calls; otherwise, he would have known I'd already left.


Deviating from his usual habits, Jerome turned down Jessica's invitation, but brought her to our former shared residence.


This dwelling, where I had resided for an extended period, had a wall adorned with images of Jerome and me, spanning from our high school era to the present.


In those photographs, we transitioned from youthful to mature, from loving to indifferent... Before departing, I incinerated all our shared pictures, along with the numerous love letters Jerome had penned for me over time.


5#05