THE PRICE OF HER TEARS:5
855 Words
Episode 5: A Husband’s Lies
The café fell into complete silence as Gilbert walked toward their table. Every confident step he took sent a wave of fear through Florence’s body. She had never seen him look so furious.
Cynthia’s face turned pale.
“I knew he would find us,” she whispered.
Gilbert stopped in front of them, his jaw clenched.
“So, this is the nonsense you’ve been doing behind my back?” he asked, glaring at Florence.
Florence slowly stood, refusing to lower her eyes.
“I should be asking you the same question, Gilbert.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You believe a stranger over your own husband?”
Before Florence could answer, Gilbert grabbed the brown envelope from the table. He pulled out the photographs and glanced through them one by one. His expression changed for only a second before he tore the pictures into pieces and threw them onto the floor.
“These mean nothing,” he said coldly.
Cynthia rose to her feet.
“They mean everything, Gilbert. Stop lying.”
Gilbert turned toward her with an icy stare.
“You should have listened when I told you to stay away from my family.”
“I didn’t know you had a family,” Cynthia replied firmly. “You told me your wife was dead.”
Several customers looked up from their meals, their attention fixed on the heated exchange.
Florence felt as though the walls were closing in around her. Every word Cynthia spoke confirmed what she had feared for years.
She looked at Gilbert, hoping—just once—that he would admit the truth.
Instead, he folded his arms.
“This woman is obsessed with me,” he said calmly. “She couldn’t accept that our relationship was over, so she created all these lies.”
Cynthia let out a bitter laugh.
“Lies?”
She reached into her handbag and removed another envelope.
“I expected you to deny everything.”
One by one, she placed documents on the table.
There were copies of bank transfers from Gilbert to her account, receipts from expensive restaurants, and hotel reservations bearing both of their names.
Finally, she placed a small velvet box in front of Florence.
Gilbert’s confidence disappeared.
“No…” he muttered.
Cynthia opened the box.
Inside was a sparkling diamond engagement ring.
Florence stared at it in disbelief.
“I never wore it,” Cynthia said softly. “He proposed to me three months ago.”
The café became eerily quiet.
Florence slowly turned to Gilbert.
“You wanted to marry another woman while I was still your wife?”
Gilbert remained silent.
His silence hurt more than any explanation.
A tear rolled down Florence’s cheek as memories flooded her mind—days she had gone without eating so the children could have food, nights she had stayed awake nursing sick children alone, and countless times she had begged Gilbert for money to pay their school fees.
While she struggled to keep the family together, he had been building another life.
“I’m sorry,” Cynthia said, her voice trembling. “If I had known the truth from the beginning, I would never have accepted him.”
Florence nodded quietly.
“I believe you.”
Gilbert suddenly slammed his hand on the table.
“Enough!”
Everyone in the café jumped.
He pointed at Cynthia.
“If you ever contact my wife again, you’ll regret it.”
Then he turned to Florence.
“And you… we’re leaving.”
Florence didn’t move.
For the first time in years, she found the courage to say one simple word.
“No.”
Gilbert blinked in surprise.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
Her voice was calm but unwavering.
“I’ve spent years protecting your reputation while you destroyed this family. Today, I choose to protect my children instead.”
The words struck Gilbert like a slap.
His face darkened with anger, but before he could respond, the café manager approached.
“Sir,” the manager said politely, “you’re disturbing our customers. If you continue, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Gilbert looked around and realized dozens of people were watching him. Some were whispering. Others were recording the confrontation on their phones.
Humiliated, he glared at Florence.
“This isn’t over,” he said through clenched teeth.
He stormed out of the café, slamming the glass door behind him.
Florence sank back into her chair, exhausted. She felt neither victorious nor relieved—only heartbroken.
Cynthia gently slid the remaining documents across the table.
“Keep these,” she said. “You may need them one day.”
Florence carefully gathered the evidence into her handbag.
As she stood to leave, her phone rang.
It was Angela.
“Mummy,” Angela cried, struggling to catch her breath. “Please come home quickly… Daddy is here, and he says if you don’t return immediately, he’ll take Divine away.”
The call ended.
Florence’s heart stopped.
Without another word, she ran out of the café, praying she was not already too late.
- Writer
