Max's POV
I couldn't believe what Nelly had done. Priscilla and I weren't exactly close, so it was going to be a challenge to convince her to eat something. To make matters worse, she was in the early stages of pregnancy, and she needed to nourish herself and the baby. The situation I found myself in was truly overwhelming. If only I had seen Nelly's true colors earlier, perhaps I could have avoided this exhausting and emotionally draining mess.
"Priscilla, please stop!" I called out desperately, chasing after her as she continued to move away. However, consumed by anger, she missed her step and stumbled, on the verge of falling. Acting swiftly, I managed to catch her in my arms before she hit the ground. Our eyes locked, and I could see the glistening of tears in hers.
"Put me down right now!" Priscilla fumed angrily, her frustration evident. Reluctantly, I released my hold on her, allowing her to regain her footing. She didn't pause for a moment and hurriedly made her way toward the room. Just as she was about to shut the door, I instinctively extended my leg, preventing it from closing completely.
"Please, just wait!" I pleaded desperately, hoping she would grant me a moment. Reluctantly, she let go of the door, allowing me a chance to speak.
"I must apologize, my dear," I murmured, my voice laced with genuine remorse. "I truly didn't anticipate Nelly's outburst. Please, you must eat something. It's important to keep up your strength."
Priscilla, her face buried in her hands, sat on the edge of the bed, her body trembling with sobs. "Of course, she's reacting this way," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration. "After all, she's your wife. How could she simply stand by and watch another woman come and snatch you away? Naturally, she's going to label me as a homewrecker, someone who destroys marriages. I can't bear this nonsense any longer. I simply can't."
A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I pondered how to explain my actions to Priscilla. How could I convey to her that my involvement in this messy situation was solely for the sake of our unborn child? If it weren't for the baby, I would never have entangled her in the complexities of my life. "Priscilla," I began, my voice filled with regret, "I am truly sorry for subjecting you to all of this. Nelly and I will be divorcing soon. She is the one who betrayed our marriage, and she will be leaving this house in due course."
Priscilla's anger flared, her words dripping with frustration. "Please, just leave me be," she snapped, her voice laced with irritation. "Go and resolve this with your wife. Try to reason with her before I completely lose control and resort to violence. I can't bear this any longer."
And with that, the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the situation hanging in the air.
"Please," I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation, "eat something and I will leave you alone... I promise." I could see the tears streaming down Priscilla's face, her sobs echoing through the room.
"Please, leave me alone, okay?" Priscilla's voice cracked as she spoke, her words laced with anguish. "You're the one who brought me into this dramatic house of yours... I want to leave, I don't want to stay here."
Feeling a heavy weight in my chest, I knew I had no other choice. She was carrying our child, and I couldn't risk their safety any longer. Softly, I said, "I'm leaving, please don't cry." With one last glance at her, I walked out of the room, making my way to my room adjacent to hers. As I retrieved my gun, a sense of determination washed over me. I had been kind for far too long, but I couldn't jeopardize my baby's life because of a spineless woman like Nelly.
Descending the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest, I was met with the sight of Nelly sobbing in my uncle's comforting embrace. The weight of betrayal hung heavy in the air. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger of the gun, the sound reverberating through the room, capturing everyone's attention.
"Nelly, and you, David," I spoke with firmness in my voice, "I want you to leave this house immediately and stop meddling in my affairs with Priscilla. You both have betrayed me, and I have remained silent. But if either of you dares to make her cry again, I will not hesitate to shoot you both."
My words hung in the air, a tense silence enveloping the room.
"I refuse to leave, this is my sister's house and you will not tell me to leave. ," David declared defiantly, his voice filled with indignation. The audacity of this man, whom I once called my uncle, was simply too much to bear. However, at this moment, I knew I had to rely on my intellect rather than succumb to my emotions.
"Very well then, I shall leave," I responded icily, my tone betraying my resolve. Turning to Liz, I instructed her, "Liz, please gather your belongings and Granny's as well. We are leaving this instant. Also, inform Lurra of our departure."
Nelly, standing on her feet, pleaded with me, "Max, can we please talk?"
"If you have anything to say, I suggest you communicate through my lawyer. He will inform me if you require any further financial assistance. As for us, Nelly, our relationship is over, and there is nothing left for us to discuss," I retorted firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.
"I will go upstairs and begin packing, brother," Liz announced, her voice filled with determination as she hurried away.
Nelly, undeterred, approached me with a plea in her eyes. "Max, please..."
"Nelly, you must refrain from engaging with him," my uncle interjected, his voice laced with possessiveness. "You are with me now, and I will not tolerate your interactions with other men."
"He is right, I wish you happiness with your new man, I hope you will not cheat on him the same way you did on me, as far as I know, a dog can never change the way it barks, be it female or male," I said bitterly and walked upstairs.
I discovered Priscilla in the same position where I had left her earlier. Fortunately, this time she wasn't shedding tears, but her countenance exuded a profound sadness. It was truly remarkable how swiftly her moods could shift as if guided by an invisible hand.
"Priscilla," I called out her name, and she slowly raised her head, her eyes meeting mine.
"We shall be departing from this place," I informed her, taken aback when she swiftly leaped out of bed and onto her feet, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes.
"You are allowing me to leave?" she inquired, her eyes widening with anticipation. Oh, how I wished that were the case.
"No, we are relocating to my other home. This way, you won't have to tolerate the tumultuous drama caused by my ex-wife," I explained, observing as her expression shifted from hopeful to crestfallen. She walked over to the bed and sat down, mirroring the position in which I had found her earlier.
"Oh," she responded, her voice tinged with disappointment.
"I will take you to a good restaurant where you can eat dinner," I added, hoping to lift her spirits.
"I don't want to eat any food," she pouted, her words laced with a touch of irritability.
"Then, what would you like to eat?" I inquired, taking a seat beside her on the bed. It was compulsory to ensure that she ate up something before retiring for the night.
"Will you buy anything I want?" She asked, giving me a stern look.
"I promise, I'll buy you anything you want to eat," I assured her.
"Okay, take me to the cake shop," she said, rising from the bed and walking to the nightstand to take a jug of her mother's ashes. "Let's go," she said.
I gathered our bags, and we went downstairs, where my grandmother, Liz, and Lurry were waiting for me.
"Granny, please take another car," I explained. "The driver will take you to my villa. Priscilla hasn't eaten, so I wanted to stop by a restaurant."
"It's okay, my dear. We will follow with another car and make sure that she eats healthy food, okay?" Granny said, smiling.
Priscilla and I left the house in my car. It was a bit late, but I was sure we could find an open cake shop.
"So, what do you want to be one day? I mean, what is your career preference?" I asked, hoping to start a conversation. I couldn't risk her getting upset.
"I've always loved music, and when I was young, I wanted to be a singer," Priscilla said. "But at 13, I changed my mind because of some personal reasons. Now I want to be a journalist."
I could sense there was something important about her decision, but I didn't want to pry too much.
"Oh, you love singing," I said, avoiding asking any more questions about her career choice.
"Yeah, I used to love singing. But not anymore. I hate music," she said coldly and bitterly.
I wondered what had happened to make her hate music so much.
"So, what do you like doing? I mean, don't you have any dreams?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. Talking seemed to be the only thing that would keep her from being sad.
"Well, I don't have dreams. Sometimes our dreams can turn into our worst nightmares that we can't stand even for a second. So I don't dream or wish for anything. I just want to study and become a journalist," Priscilla said, her words weighed down by deep meaning. It was clear that the tough exterior she had developed concealed a lot of pain.
"Oh," I replied wondering what to say next. "What's your favorite color?" I asked, changing the topic.
"Well, I used to love pink, but now I love black," she replied, unfazed.
I frowned and kept my eyes on the road. "Why?" I asked.
"Bright colors make one look pretty and beautiful, and they attract unwanted attention. That unwanted attention can often lead to nothing but nightmares, wounds that never heal, and scars that never fade," Priscilla said matter-of-factly.
I was left speechless and convinced that something had happened to her during her childhood. However, I didn't want to push too hard for answers.
"Do you not want to appear beautiful?" I inquired, my voice laced with curiosity.
"Beauty?" she scoffed, bitterness seeping into her tone. She offered no further response, instead choosing to rest her head outside the window, allowing the cool night air to caress her skin. Fortunately, after a brief drive, we arrived at the cake shop, which happened to be open. Stepping out of the car, I gallantly opened the door for Priscilla, and together we walked inside the charming establishment.
As we stood before the display of delicious cakes, each one meticulously arranged behind the glass, Priscilla's eyes scanned the multiplicity. With an expressive gesture, she pointed towards a rich chocolate cake, then a velvety vanilla creation, and finally a luscious strawberry confection. My eyes widened in astonishment as she proceeded to select a total of ten different cakes.
"Priscilla, eating so many cakes can make you sick. ," I warned, my concern evident. She glared at me, a silent reminder of my promise to fulfill her every desire.
"You promise to buy anything I want" she retorted, her words hanging in the air. I swallowed hard, realizing the weight of my words.
"Please, kindly pack them for me," I requested of the saleswoman, who responded with a disapproving frown.