ManyWriters

In the third year of our marriage, after Alaric failed to convince me to agree to an open marriage, he started messing around.
When I barged into the VIP club to confront him for the 99th time, Alaric asked me to dance in place of his new fling who was on her period.
I pointed at my limp leg, "Me? Can I pole dance?"
He smirked disdainfully, "You just had a miscarriage, not an amputation."
"What are you playing at?"
Alaric roughly dragged me to the pole, forcing me to dance.
Until my leg injury flared up, and blood pooled beneath my feet, covering the floor.
He left with his new girlfriend in tow, "If you don't want kids, don't hold others back from living their lives."
That night, I had both legs amputated and ended up in a wheelchair.
His new flame Scarlett, however, sent intimate photos of their vacation together.
Alaric didn't know that I miscarried because I had ovarian cancer.
He was even more clueless that the cancer had already spread to my legs. The lingering limp was actually a blessing in disguise.

The 99th Time Catching Him

Aunt Marjorie replied with tears in her eyes, "Mr. Harrington, you asked madam to move out for Scarlett's sake."


He rushed to the guest bedroom, saw that nothing in the room was missing, and fell to his knees in despair. "Melody, I'm sorry. It's all my fault."


His knee seemed to bump into something. He looked down through tear-filled eyes and saw an old brooch made of emerald.


It was the one he had given Melody in Lake Como, spending all his savings as a young man.


He remembered promising her that he would give her brooches in every style in the future.


Later, he learned that Melody didn't like emeralds, thinking them tacky.


But she wore the brooch he gave her every day.


An overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him. How could he have... how could he have given her a fake that day!


He cradled the brooch, slapping himself repeatedly.


Chapter 7