Suddenly, her phone rang, tearing her from the depths of despair. It was a call from Reynolds Mansion.
"Melisa, did you forget what day it is today? The maids are off, so hurry up..., come and cook for us!"
Melissa's bitterness bubbled to the surface. As she hung up without a word, she felt as if the weight of the world had settled more heavily on her shoulders.
She had played the role of a dutiful wife, conforming to everyone's expectations, yet she was treated like an unwanted guest—a mere servant rather than the wife of the household
****
she has been walking tirelessly around Evans Reynolds trying to maintain her fragile marriage.
At the office everyone underestimated her, but she still did her best to play the role of Evans secretary.
while at home Evans mother and sister look down on her because of her *unknown origin* . they were mean and peaked at her on every chance they get.
They ordered her around like amaid doing house chores . she was never treated like a young madam of the house . rather she was no more than a lowly servant. yet she still stayed obedient and meek.
wave of exhaustion washed over her.
No matter how much she tried to please the Reynolds family, she was never truly accepted.
" Was my five years of marriage also a joke?"
The question pierced through her thoughts, each syllable echoing a hollow truth. A surge of anger replaced her sadness.
" This has to end.
It was time to scatter this joke, this farce that was only suffocating her more by the day.
With trembling hands, Melissa reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen.
This time, she wouldn't be a passive participant in her own life.
She typed out a message, her heart racing with each word, and hit send before she could second-guess herself.
" [Let's get divorced. ]
As the message left her fingertips, a strange calm washed over her. Yet again, it was painful to let go the time she invested in her marriage just like that.
Melissa pressed her phone, the coolness of the screen contrasting sharply with the heat rising in her cheeks.
Suppressing the pain that throbbed in her chest, she braced herself and hailing a taxi, made her way to the registrar's office.
Each bump on the road sent jolts of discomfort through her body. Time was a slow-moving shadow, stretching minutes into what felt like hours.
An hour later, as she sat on the cold bench outside, pale and lost in thought, Evans Reynolds called her thrice, each unanswered ring echoing inside of her bag.
He decided not to call again.
The sun dipped lower in the sky when he finally walked in, his tall frame silhouetted against the entrance.
He had a stern expression on his face, his gaze cold and unyielding as he looked down at her. Melissa met his eyes with a steely calm, but beneath the surface, turmoil churned.
"Is it because you've donated more blood this month? I compensated you… then what are you dissatisfied with?" he spat, frustration leaking through his composed facade.
"Let's just get divorced," Melissa replied, her voice steady, yet the tremor of pain within it hinted at the depths of her resolve.
She didn't want to engage in a battle of wills with a man whose heart seemed so locked away. Memories flooded her mind as she took in his chiseled jaw, sharp cheekbones, and the piercing eyes that had once captivated her.
**She fell head over heels for him back then, but the charm had faded, leaving her numb before the man who stood before her.
Evans studied her with a grimace. He had tolerated her whims and demands for years but drew the line at what he perceived as defiance.
"Do you think you're the only one who can donate blood?" he thought silently, incredulous at her audacity.
"Melissa, don't regret it later."
"What I regret and will regret is the five wasted years I invested in this marriage,"
Melissa countered, her smile a bittersweet twist of irony. She had finally thought it through, clarity slicing through the fog of anguish.
"I've suffered enough; now, it's my time to take charge."
The air around them felt thick with unresolved emotions as they waited. It was nearly the end of the day, the line minimal, and the weight of their shared history loomed heavily between them.
Just as Melissa believed they might leave with a clean break, the registrar delivered the unexpected: one more month to reconsider. The words hit her like a gust of cold wind. Disappointment clouded her thoughts—she wanted a quick resolution, not this extension of agony. Evans remained silent, his gaze fixed away from her, as if the very act of acknowledging her presence was too much to bear.
"Let's go to the hospital," he finally said, the words laced with a tone that felt rehearsed. Even if it meant using her one last time, he couldn't let it slip by without ensuring Cathy got what she needed.
Melissa's laughter broke the tense air, cold and cutting. "Evans Reynolds," she said, lifting her gaze defiantly. "Even if she dies in front of me, I won't waste my time helping her. Not a drop of my blood."
Evans's eyes darkened, a flicker of concern crossing his stern features. "How could she curse Cathy?" he whispered to himself, bewildered. The condition of their marriage had become twisted and transactional; her blood was the price tag for his affection, a currency he had unknowingly belittled.
"Right," she thought bitterly. "I could only marry him because I had a rare blood type that Cathy needed." The realization was like a knife, slicing through any remaining fondness. "I see now; to Evans, I am merely a blood bank."
But now—now she was prepared to settle her debts. "I'll donate one last time," she told him, her voice dripping with finality. "Then, I'll be free." An enigmatic smile crossed her face as she turned to leave, her spirit lifting with the promise of closure.
Evans knitted his brow, a sense of irritation creeping in. Something was off about Melissa today; her demeanor felt alien, the confidence unsettling. He had known her for five long years; she had always been the clingy and obedient wife. And as Cathy's transfusion needs increased, he mistook her compliance for strength, and her sudden assertion for weakness.
"Forget it," he murmured under his breath.
"She'll come back begging when she can't survive on her own."
Before he could voice another thought, Melissa hailed a cab and departed for the hospital.
She arrived at Cathy Hudson's ward, her heart pounding not just from the physical exertion but from the whirlwind of emotions swirling within.
Nurses milled about but ceased their chatter when Cathy spotted her.
"You're finally here, Melissa! I hope you're not mad at me for always needing you, because of my bad health" Cathy's voice brimmed with delight, though her concern peeked through as she added,
"I was worried your poor body wouldn't take it."
Unbeknownst to her, Melissa was not there for pleasantries.