Don't mess with an angel
1086 Words
Ciara furiously wiped off the tears that poured out of her eyes as she clumsily filled a box with her belongings.
It was hard to admit, but she had feelings for him, her husband, Ryan, the cheating partner. Apart from her agreeing to the marriage to find out the cause of her parent’s death, she had agreed because Ryan was the kind of man she had imagined herself spending the rest of her life with. Why else did she stay despite his bad treatment?
The last of the clothes in her wardrobe flew into the box. She lowered herself unto the floor and cried, loud unbridled tears, all her pain and hurt. Getting herself, she dressed up all chic and nice, even applied makeup and wore jewelry worth an absurd amount. It was time to celebrate. A large box and two traveling bags later, she was ready to leave. She smiled fondly, looking around the now cleared out room.
“Goodbye,” she murmured, placing a wrapped gift on the vanity. Afterward, she pulled out her phone and dialed a very familiar number.
“It’s done. I’m ready now.”
*****
Ryan trudged into his fancy mansion early the next morning. He decided to call off his unnecessary stay at the hospital. It was all because of her anyway, Ciara, he tried hard to stay away from her. He walked to the dining, expecting to see a cup of freshly brewed coffee awaiting him.
He froze, seeing a gleaming clean table.
“Ciara?” He called out, going into the kitchen. No one. He realized then that he couldn’t smell the coffee nor the delicious pancakes she made on most mornings.
“Is she still asleep?” He muttered, walking back out of the kitchen. His confused mind suddenly recalled the events of the previous night. His eyes widened, and he rushed up the stairs, barging into her room.
Vacant. The wardrobe doors were wide open, revealing its empty inner, the room was cleared out. He pulled out his phone at once and made to dial her number. It wasn’t possible that she… He paused, his thumb hovering over the call button. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Why was he so nervous?
He slowly replaced his phone in his pocket and shrugged.
“Good riddance,” he murmured, his eyes catching sight of the papers on the vanity. He moved closer and smiled, seeing her signature.
He heaved out in relief. He looked around once more. Her scent still lingered in the room, her pleasant yet elegant scent. He glanced down at the papers, and his eyes caught a tiny package at the edge of the desk. Out of curiosity, he picked it up. There was a note attached.
“Farewell.” It read. He tore it open. A wristwatch box. It wasn’t the box or the gift that stunned him, but the brand. Lovato. How was she able to afford to get him a customized Lovato wristwatch?
He turned the exquisite gift over and over in his hands, still bewildered. Replacing the wristwatch carefully, he called her for real this time.
“What is the meaning of the gift you left on your vanity?”
“I signed the divorce papers. What exactly are you calling me for?”
Daniel was a bit stunned at her cold tone.
“The gift you left on your vanity for me. Where did you get such money? Have you been stealing from me?”
Ciara's mouth dropped open in disbelief, but she soon shook it off. What else did she expect?
“Never mind, I don’t care.”
“No, I care. How dare you accuse me of stealing from you?”
“How else were you able to afford such an expensive gift? Were you trying to impress me? With my money?”
“Ryan, you are ridiculous. Has cheating with Anne brainwashed you so much? Have I ever shown signs of such devious behavior…”
“I wouldn’t know since we rarely spend time together,” he replied coldly.
“And whose fault is that?” She retorted.
“I don’t know what you were expecting Ciara, but we signed a contract marriage, not a real one.”
Ciara was tempted to laugh out loud.
I’ll send you 50 million dollars in compensation, as the contract has not expired yet. Do…”
“Keep your money, Ryan. Splurge it on Anne instead. I wish you both a happy life.”
Ryan stared at his phone in shock. Did she just cut the phone on him? And why did she seem so different? So different from the fragile nurse Ciara he had lived with for close to a year.
He shook his head and decided to let it go, but on getting to his room, the wedding gift he had given to her as part of the contract agreement stared at him from his bed. It was a gift worth hundreds of millions of dollars, yet she never sold it, didn’t even take it with her.
He stood for a while, astonished. He definitely could not accuse her of anything wrong on this one. He pulled out his phone and called his secretary.
“Run a check on Ciara Fellers for me. Get me everything you can find about her.”
His phone rang immediately, he cut the call.
Anne.
“Baby,” her tiny high-pitched voice came over the line, “did she sign the papers yet?”
“Yeah, she did,” he muttered, pulling at his shirt buttons. He didn’t like the feeling he was getting. He felt too uneasy.
“You don’t sound happy,” Anne whined, “don’t tell me you regret any of it.”
“I don’t,” Ryan sighed. Sometimes, Anne felt like a pest.
“Is she out of the house? I have some wonderful ideas on how to get her out while bawling,” she giggled.
“She’s out. She left before I returned.”
“Great. I’ll move in right away then. Keep the door open!”
Anne's giggle resounded in his ear long after she cut the call. He pressed a hand to his temple. He suddenly had a headache, he suddenly felt too tired, and he suddenly felt dizzy. He shut his eyes and calmed himself.
He was just feeling stressed out from Ciara's episode. Some hours of sleep, and he’ll be back to normal. He lay on the bed and shut his eyes.
- Writer
