After My Husband Caused My Mother's Death

Chapter 5 Leaving

Time froze.

I stared at the jade bracelet, now in three jagged pieces on the floor, my mother's final gift. I'd failed to protect her when she jumped from that hospital rooftop for my sake. And now, even this last memento had been shattered by Vivian.

"Oops, my bad," Vivian simpered, covering her mouth with perfectly manicured fingers. Her eyes gleamed with malice. "You should've said it was some dead woman's junk! What if it curses Henry?"

Henry's expression softened at her words before hardening as he turned to me. "Elena, remember you're the Grant family's young madam," he said. "Stop acting like some pathetic, gutter-born nobody! This kind of trash has no place here."

I dropped to my knees, digging the shards into my palm until blood welled between my fingers.

"Enough. It's just cheap jewelry," Henry shifted uneasily. "I'll buy you something better." He wrapped an arm around Vivian's waist, guiding her toward the staircase.

I lunged up and charged at them. Before she could react, I cracked my palm across Vivian's cheek. "Apologize! To my mother's memory!"

"Ahhh!" she screeched, flailing backward like a bad actress before tumbling down the steps before Henry could catch her.

"Vivian!" Henry bellowed, backhanding me so hard I staggered. My face burned like fire. He vaulted down the stairs, cradling Vivian like broken porcelain. "Where does it hurt, my love?" he cooed.

But I knew the truth. I'd only grabbed her to stop her. She'd yanked free and staged that fall.

"We're going to the hospital," Henry spat, eyes blazing. "If she's hurt, kiss your job goodbye."

The door crashed shut, its echo still ringing in my ears as I hoisted my bags and left, for good. I'd barely stepped into my hotel room when my phone lit up with Henry's demanding texts: Pack your things and vacate the master bedroom immediately. Thanks to you, Vivian's lying there with a twisted ankle. She needs proper care. You will grovel with apologies and personally nurse her back to health! Or I won't forgive you!

It took a full month for the bruises, both physical and emotional, to finally fade. Henry bombarded me daily with calls and texts, first came volcanic rage, then grudging pseudo-concern, before the silence stretched into days.

When the hospital summoned me to wrap up loose ends, my overseas relocation documents were already stamped and ready. Freedom waited at the terminal.

At the nurses' station, white-coated vultures clustered around their gossip carcass, cupping hands over mouths as I approached.

"What black magic did Ms. Cole use to snag our International Medical Forum spot?"

"That 'groundbreaking' thesis? Probably some poor sap she batted her eyelashes at, typical Vivian move."

"The word is she slept her way through every academic milestone; her transcript's basically a mattress receipt!"