The next morning, after our wedding, I was jolted awake by the melodious chirping of birds just outside the window. Today felt different; I was now married, and this marked the beginning of my journey as a wife. After offering my morning prayers, I descended the stairs. Yesterday, I was so exhausted from the wedding that I fell asleep on the way here.
As I entered the kitchen, I noticed my eyes were still a bit puffy from sleep. A quick remedy came to mind, and I headed to the fridge to grab an ice pack to soothe my tired eyes. While searching for it, I couldn't help but wonder about Xavi's whereabouts.
Confused about whether Xavi slept at home, I searched for him and discovered a note on the table that read, "Tomorrow, I'm going to send my driver to come get you." I decided to go upstairs, have my bath, and change into casual clothing.
While upstairs, the doorbell rang. Cautiously, I answered and asked, "Hello, good morning. Who are you looking for?" I refrained from directly asking if he was the driver, not wanting to take any chances. The driver responded, "Good morning, Mrs. Wright. Your husband asked me to get you."
"Okay, I'm coming. Just give me a minute," I said. I hurriedly grabbed my purse, wore my shoes, and opened the door to get into the car.
As we started moving, I couldn't help but ask, "Where are you taking me again?" The hospital, Mrs. Wright."
Confusion was evident on my face. "The hospital?"
We arrived at the hospital, where Xavi's parents and my dad were waiting. I greeted them and quickly approached my dad, wasting no time.
"Dad, what's going on here?" I asked, concerned. His response was immediate and filled with anger.
"Where did you put your phone? Don't you realize someone's life is at risk?" His voice rose, bordering on shouting. "Must you be taught how to do everything? You're no longer a child, Layla. Grow up. You're not some princess in a fairy tale, commanding everyone. You need to be responsible."
Today, my dad seemed like a stranger. His demeanor was distant, treating me as if I were a mere worker and he was the boss, with every word he spoke being an absolute command. There was no room for questions or objections.
I struggled to hold back tears. It hurt deeply, but I didn't want to appear weak in front of him. He was already irritated, and I didn't want to further embarrass him, especially with Xavi's parents present.
A doctor entered the room, inquiring about the donor. wait what donor is he talking about?
My father-in-law pointed towards me, and the doctor instructed me to follow him. We're currently in his office, where he handed me a paper to review and sign. As I opened it, I discovered it was a consent form. I found it somewhat ironic that they sought my permission, although the decision seemed predetermined. Despite feeling that the power to sign this consent form wasn't truly mine, I went ahead and signed the papers.
Subsequently, I was taken to the hematology ward, where I changed into a gown, underwent sterilization, and began a regimen of medications. Different thoughts raced through my mind— when was I tested to see if I was a match? Was it more than a guess? How did they obtain my sample, and was my dad involved in this plan? The confusion lingered.
Curious, I asked the doctor about the medications, and he explained it was a bone marrow surgery. they were to stimulate the production of more stem cells. Additionally, they planned to conduct further tests before proceeding with the surgery.
I was informed that I would be in the hospital for about two weeks before the surgery, and during this time, they explained the process of collecting my stem cells through a procedure called apheresis. This conditioning stage would be followed by post-surgery examinations, making the entire process last about a month.
Reflecting on spending my honeymoon holiday in the hospital just a day after getting married, I couldn't help but mock myself.
"What a glorious wedding, Layla," I thought Would I ever find happiness in this union?
.........
A month had passed since the successful surgery, and we were back home at Xavi's house. However, we hadn't slept in the same room since our return. I knew we needed to talk, but I wanted to give him the time to recover fully or whenever he felt ready.
Descending the stairs, I found the housekeeper in the kitchen. She was older than me and had worked at the Wrights' mansion since her husband's death. She had also been a nanny to Xavi when he was young, practically raising him.
"Good morning, Mrs. Wright," the housekeeper, Abigail, greeted me.
"Good morning, Madam Abigail," I responded, using the formal title as I wasn't sure how to address her.
"Have told you to drop the formalities when we are alone and call me by my name, Layla. You are old enough to be my mother," I suggested.
Abigail replied, "Okay, Mrs. Wright, sorry, Layla. I'll try, but I can't promise it will be every time.
"I then asked her about her plans, acknowledging that she cooks some of the best meals I've ever eaten, and I've started learning a thing or two from her.
"Madam Abigail, have you seen Xavi this morning?" I inquired, explaining that I often don't know when he's up or when he leaves.
"Yes, he's outside, beside the pool. He asked me to prepare fresh orange juice for him, and that's what I was about to do," replied Madam Abigail."
I would like to prepare it for him," I told her. It seemed like a good excuse to talk to him, and I needed that conversation. "Where is the juice squeezer?" I asked her.
She told me where it was, and I began preparing the orange juice. Once I finished, I took it outside in search of Xavi.
........
Sneak peek of next chapter
"I'm going to frustrate you in this marriage to the point where you'll beg for mercy and beg for the divorce," he warned, his tone dripping with malice. I swallowed hard, my breaths coming in shallow gasps as I tried to steady myself.
"And you want to know one more thing?" Xavi continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he closed the distance between us. "I'm going to enjoy having my mistress around, warming my bed." My stomach churned with revulsion, and I stumbled back, my eyes wide with terror.