Without caring much about the road and the stoplights, the car moved over the highway, lights on full beam as Deniece scores the highway. On the other hand, Marzia watched how yellowed yet bright light played in the starting droplets, showing this deluge, this flood from the sky, in apparent solidarity with her feelings.
"It's raining," she says. By now, Marzia has changed her clothes, taken a bath, and put on Deniece's most sophisticated pair of clothes. She prepped herself for a while that it was now nearing nighttime.
"Yeah. I guess mother nature wants to make this night extra heartbreaking for you."
The two young ladies shared a hearty laugh until they reached the villa where Scott's family lives. After turning left and right on the wide streets and arrays of mansions, they finally got to Love street, where the long stretch is occupied by a stand-out mansion.
"You want me to come with you?" Deniece asked.
Marzia flashed a thrifty smile. "No need. Thank you, Deniece."
"You're welcome, babe. I'll wait here. Just yell my name if you need anything or if that shviger pulled one on you again."
Marzia chuckled and got out of her car. The rain has stopped for a while and turned into tolerable mist as the sky's coated with a tangerine hue.
Taking deep breaths, Marzia walked into the gate. The guard stationed there immediately recognized Marzia and let her in. She smiled at the obviously troubled man and walked along the spacious driveway. Before going inside, she scans around from her spot to register the place she called home for years for the last time.
"Bye-bye, house…" she whispers and walks to the main entrance. She got to the living room after a few steps, and as expected, the Lucifer to her Angel was there. Her monster-in-law approached her with wide eyes.
The old woman, Ruth Dickins, was already in her late sixties, but still wore fashionable clothes that were dreadfully inappropriate for her age. Just looking at her made Marzia cringe internally.
"You shouldn't have come back here, Marzia. After that humiliation and stint you did yesterday by crying and refusing to leave, you've basically tainted our reputation!" Ruth's thin brow arched so high that it was about to meet the peak of her forehead. "This is all your fault, you imbecile! If you haven't just pushed my son to marry you, this wouldn't happen!"
As expected, Ruth will always blame Marzia for her son's faulty actions. Even though Scott is the one who ran away and embarrassed Marzia, Ruth will never realize that he was in the wrong.
Even before, Ruth has adamantly expressed her hatred toward Marzia. She had never liked her for Scott and would do anything to break off their relationship. At first, Marzia wanted to appease Ruth and placate her pre-hatred feelings about her. But then, as time passed by, Marzia just gave up. Ruth is a tough cookie to crack. Ain't nobody got time for that.
Nonetheless, things were different now. Marzia no longer needed to act timid in front of this wicked old bitch. She smirked, not minding the latter's predicated anger. "I'm not planning to, anyway. I'm just here to collect my things, Ruth." Marzia then walked past Ruth. As expected, the latter was in disbelief upon hearing her son's fiancee address her in a disrespectful manner.
As Marzia walked up the grand staircase, Ruth turned to her and asked hysterically, "H—How could you? How dare you insult me in my own house?!"
"Whatever…" Marzia audibly said in a nonchalant tone and kept going.
"Hey, don't you walk away from me, you bitch! I'm still talking to you!" Ruth shouted across the hall as Marzia reached her own room. Yes, she has her own room in this mansion. It's her safe space. She sleeps and hides here whenever she felt small in front of Scott's family and friends.
Pausing for a moment, she looks around with a bitter smile. 'Bye-bye, room. God knows how many teardrops you've witnessed every night.'
In the next moments, Marzia grabbed the suitcase hidden beneath her bed. This is the same suitcase she used when she moved here and brought her things. Then, Marzia opened her closet, grabbing all the stuff and clothes she owned beforehand. She refused to bring other things that were either gifts that came from Scott, his friends, or his father, who particularly adored Marzia.
It didn't take Marzia that long before she was already zipping the bag with her original belongings. Finally, she was leaving this god-forbidden place. It's time to leave that piece of shit for good.
Marzia wouldn't let Scott fool her again. Not this time and not ever in her lifetime.
She opened the door, but before completely leaving, she pulled out something from the pocket of her pants. It was an ATM card. Scott gave this to her when she started living with him. Since he didn't want her to take a job, he just gave her a monthly allowance.
Still, Marzia has never used this card, not even once. After all, she didn't really need to spend money on anything. Her clothes, food, and shelter are already provided to her like a spoonful of healthy soup. Marzia didn't have a kid or a pet either, so she really had nothing to spend on and refused to take any more money from him. She's also not allowed to go out without a bodyguard or Scott by her side, though it's not like she's interested in shopping or something. Besides, Ruth was so against the idea of her having an ATM card at first that Marzia decided to ditch it completely.
As Marzia walked out of that suffocating room for the last time, her expression shifted to that of a livid one. She pulled the suitcase down the stairs easily since her luggage was light enough. As she got to the first floor, Ruth was still on her earlier spot, seemingly out of breath as a group of house helpers fan her face.
Marzia can only chuckle. She has always found Ruth's overreaction to everything funny, but she used to shut her mouth and not say anything. But now, she can freely laugh right in front of the woman's face.
When Ruth heard her annoying snort, she couldn't bear but make another snide remark. "You ungrateful bitch! What's so funny about this, huh? After everything that we have done to you?!" She followed Marzia using her sharp gaze and walked with difficulty. "I knew it! I knew from the start when Scott introduced you to me! You're a gold digger, just like your mother! You all are a bunch of imbeciles!"
"Don't talk to my mother like that as if you know her, Ruth," Marzia said, even though deep inside, she knew that it was true. Her mother was a gold digger who used to seduce wealthy men into giving her money, but she wasn't like that now. Marzia's mother is just a gambling addict, which is terrible enough, in all honesty.
Ruth's eyebrow rose. "It's the truth and I can talk about whoever I want! I am Ruth Dickins!" she spat back with every intention of hurting Marzia.
However, Marzia had gotten hung with the latter's insults as though it was just another appalling jingle on repeat in a broken record. Moreover, Marzia knew that Ruth was intentionally doing this to drive her away further. She knows damn well that Ruth was celebrating like it was New Year's Eve when her son ran away on their wedding day.
"Fine! At least we're not as horrible as you are. We have better fashion sense, we look younger, and we don't get short of breath whenever we walk ten steps. Get a grip, bitch," Marzia murmured as she ambled out the main entrance, gliding with her suitcase as Ruth's scream echoed behind her.
Marzia has reached the driveway when, all of a sudden, a blue car pulled up. She stopped in the middle of the path and felt like her insides were being gutted to her demise. She felt like throwing up and didn't want to see him, but it seemed like she had no choice. Marzia almost thought that she was lucky he wasn't here earlier. As she paused there, Ruth was able to reach her and had a triumphant grin upon seeing her son come out of the car. Scott closed the door of his Mustang and glanced ahead. He looked rather fresh and blissful as if nothing had happened the day before. His eyes were still empty and hard to read. The man seemed normal and was still very handsome as he walked toward his ex-bride.
Of course, Ruth didn't miss this opportunity to tarnish Marzia's reputation. "Ha! My son… This woman just cursed me! It was right for you to run—"
"Hush, mother," Scott coldly uttered, and the old woman obediently stopped talking. They have a weird dynamic, and Ruth was obviously so smitten with her son that she obeyed him instead of him obeying her. Marzia has always found this odd. She would always think that maybe, if Scott just talked to his mother about letting Marzia off her leash, then she wouldn't be such an insecure pilgrim.
But well, Marzia figured that it was too late now.
Upon Scott reaching the woman's front, their eyes met and a hint of electricity flowed through Marzia's body. Scott's eyes were just too captivating that they could weaken her knees with a mere gaze. Marzia tried to brush that thought off, but it still lingered.
"Where are you going?" Scott's cold voice echoes.