Anisah_Karimah

Jordan Blythe was on top of the world as the star soccer player of his time. Every game he played, the crowd cheered his name. But his life came crashing down when he was involved in a road accident. On the brink of losing his career and his ability to walk, his wife—whom he had sworn to divorce for a hotter and younger woman—stood firmly by his side. She was the only person who helped him recover and the only one who believed he could run on the field again. The time they spent together in the hospital made him realize that his wife truly loved him. And yet, why was she the one handing him the divorce papers?

Regretfull Ending

"Are you going to ask me about anything?"

I said the second my wife walked into my hospital room. She froze in the doorway, looking at me as if I'd grown three heads overnight. She put down the bag she was carrying—probably clean blankets and clothes.

"Um… did you sleep well?" she asked, her voice unsure, as if she were questioning her own question.

I rubbed my temples in frustration. Is this woman for real right now?

"I meant about my affair. Do you even—I don't know—maybe give two shits about the other women I've been sleeping with?"

Like a lightbulb had appeared above her head, her lips formed an "O" shape. She shook her head.

"No… I don't need to. I know everyone," she said, as casually as if she were stating, "Of course, the sky is blue."

"What do you mean, you know everyone? Are you a stalker?" I was getting more frustrated by the second.

"I know Jane from the country club, Maya from the cheerleading squad, Chloe and Zera from the gentleman's club, Lucy the rising model, also—"

"Stop! Just stop talking…" I interrupted, closing my eyes and collapsing back onto the bed.

There was absolute silence as I kept rubbing my temples, and she just stood there, looking around like a child waiting for punishment. Why is she naming all the women I've slept with like she's listing ingredients for making cookies?

"How… how do you know?" I asked, still lying on the bed, questioning both my sanity and hers.

"Well… you brought them home… and I just talked to them."

God, every word that comes out of this woman's mouth makes me lose brain cells. What the hell did she mean by "I just talked to them"? These women were sleeping with her husband, and she just… talked to them?

"Like, you guys went for coffee or something?" I said sarcastically, internally laughing at my own words.

"Well, no… I just offered them breakfast."

God help me… this woman is either just stupid or—no, she's definitely just stupid.

I closed my eyes, hoping the entire conversation from earlier was just a fever dream. How could you offer breakfast to your husband's side pieces? Those women would be at each other's throats if they ever met.

I stayed silent once again. Never thought I'd prefer staring at the white ceiling over looking at the woman I married. Oh, right—I never liked my wife to begin with.

While I was lost in my own thoughts, I felt a blanket being draped over me.

"It's getting cold… Do you want some soup for lunch? I can get your favorite from your usual place."

My breath caught in my throat. Why is she looking at me like that? Shouldn't she hate me? Shouldn't she throw things at her cheating husband? Maybe curse him to die? don't you hate me? why your eyes look so kind? after everything i've done to you why can't I see a single hatred in your eyes

I feel my eyes burn, like something going to spill out. I look to the other side avoiding her eyes becuase I know damn well... I don't deserve that kind look

"Why are you still here…?" I whispered, hoping only I could hear my own pathetic voice.

She smiled at me—a smile so soft that I'd never seen before. Not the kind I saw from my teammates, nor the ones from the women I'd slept with. She took my hand, the one I'd been using to rub my temples, and held it gently between her two hands.

"I'm your wife… I'll look after you until you recover."

God... you're being really unfair right now

Chapter 7