THE PRICE OF HER TEARS

THE PRICE OF HER TEARS:3

Episode 3: The Woman on the Phone

Florence stared at her phone long after the call had ended. The sounds of the busy market faded into the background as one sentence echoed repeatedly in her mind.

“I’ve been seeing Gilbert for months… and I’m not the only one.”

Her hands trembled. She wanted to believe it was a cruel prank, yet deep down, she knew there was truth behind those words. Gilbert had become distant years ago. The late nights, unexplained expenses, unfamiliar perfume on his clothes, and the endless excuses had all painted a picture she had tried desperately to ignore.

“Madam Florence?”

A customer’s voice pulled her back to reality.

“You’ve given me the wrong change.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry,” Florence replied, forcing a smile as she corrected her mistake.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Her mind was no longer at the market but at home, wondering where Gilbert was and who he was with. She worked until sunset before gathering the few vegetables that hadn’t sold.

After paying for transport, she counted what remained.

It was barely enough to buy rice for dinner.

As she walked home, the burden on her shoulders felt heavier than the bag she carried. She had five children depending on her, and each day seemed harder than the last.

When she opened the front door, Angela rushed to hug her.

“Mummy! Tracy has a fever.”

Florence immediately dropped the shopping bag and hurried into the bedroom. Tracy lay curled beneath a thin blanket, her face flushed with heat. Little Divine sat quietly beside his sister, gently holding her hand.

“Mummy,” Divine whispered, “I’ve been praying for Tracy to get well.”

Florence knelt beside the bed and touched Tracy’s forehead.

Her heart sank.

The fever was high.

She searched the kitchen cupboard for medicine, but there was nothing left—not even enough money to buy a single dose.

Holding back tears, she hugged Tracy close.

“Don’t worry, my baby. Mummy is here.”

Just then, the front door opened.

Gilbert walked in, humming to himself, dressed in expensive clothes and carrying shopping bags.

For one brief moment, Florence felt relieved.

Perhaps he had finally remembered his family.

But that hope disappeared almost instantly.

Gilbert walked past his sick daughter without asking how she was. He placed the shopping bags on the table and pulled out a brand-new designer wristwatch.

Smiling proudly, he admired it on his wrist.

Florence looked from the watch to Tracy’s burning forehead.

“You bought another watch?” she asked quietly.

Gilbert shrugged.

“I work hard. I deserve nice things.”

Florence could no longer hide her pain.

“Your daughter is sick, Gilbert. We don’t even have money for medicine.”

Gilbert didn’t answer.

Instead, his phone rang.

The name displayed across the screen was ‘My Queen ❤️.’

Without hesitation, he smiled and answered the call.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said warmly. “Yes… I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Florence stood frozen.

Never in years had she heard Gilbert speak to her with such tenderness.

He slipped the phone into his pocket, grabbed his car keys, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Florence asked, her voice breaking.

Gilbert didn’t even turn around.

“I have somewhere more important to be.”

The door slammed shut.

As the sound of his car faded into the distance, Florence looked down at her feverish daughter and silently wiped away a tear.

She had never felt so alone.

Then, her phone vibrated again.

It was the same unknown number.

This time, a message appeared on the screen.

“If you want to know who Gilbert really is, meet me tomorrow at 10 a.m. Come alone.”