Chapter 3 Compensate Me
901 Words
A long, suffocating silence stretched over the line.
For several long seconds, Cynthia thought the call had already been disconnected.
Then a muffled sound came through the receiver. Russell let out a low, restrained grunt. "I'm busy right now. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
The call ended with a sharp click.
Cynthia stared at the dark screen. Something inside her finally broke. She bit her lower lip so hard it bled, her entire body shaking with rage.
She wasn't smart. She had known that her whole life. But even she understood humiliation when it was thrown in her face.
She pressed a hand hard against her chest, as if she could hold her heart together while it shattered piece by piece.
With shaking fingers, she contacted a lawyer and asked him to draft a divorce agreement.
Meanwhile, trapped beneath Russell, Jessica whispered breathlessly. "If she finds out... Will she divorce you?"
He paused, a flash of irritation crossing his eyes before he scoffed. "Divorce? She's an i***t. Who else would ever want her? At most, she'll throw a little tantrum. I'll say something nice, and she'll calm down."
The next day at the company, before Russell had even prepared his excuses, Cynthia marched straight toward him.
He hurried toward her. "Cynthia, what are you doing here? Look, I'm fine. Everything last night was a misunderstanding. I was supposed to work late at the office last night. Then Ms. Galvan's light bulb broke, and she asked me to fix it. While I was there, the fire started. It's all a misunderstanding."
Cynthia's hands clenched into fists. "Russell, I may not be smart. But I'm not stupid. You walked out wearing a bathrobe."
Jessica hurriedly stepped forward, feigning consideration as she gently patted Cynthia's back. "Ms. Parra, please don't be angry. He got dirty fixing the light, so he took a shower first."
Around them, employees had begun to gather. Whispers drifted through the air.
"I bet a hundred bucks she doesn't believe that."
"What are you betting on? If she actually figures it out, I'll buy you lunch for a month!"
A sharp pain stabbed through Cynthia's chest.
Suddenly, she was back in middle school. Back in the classroom, where everyone treated her like the class joke.
"Cynthia, what's one plus one?"
"Two."
"Ha! Then how many fingers do you have?"
The mocking faces from her memories slowly morphed into the gossiping employees standing around her now.
Something inside her snapped. She shoved Jessica's hand away.
"Enough!" she shouted. "Stop treating me like I'm stupid. I'm not going to believe this!"
Jessica stumbled backward dramatically, rolling toward the wall and clutching her forehead.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Parra," she said tearfully. "I swear nothing happened. I'm alone in this city. He's the only friend I have..."
Russell rushed forward instantly and lifted her into his arms. His gaze turned cold as it landed on Cynthia.
"Cynthia, that was too much!"
"I'm taking her to the hospital. You need to calm down."
Cynthia almost laughed. Jessica's forehead wasn't even red.
Once upon a time, when she had cried because a teacher had kindly comforted her, Russell had mistakenly thought she was being bullied and stormed into the faculty office to defend her.
Now he was yelling at her for another woman.
She swallowed her tears and blocked his path.
"Russell, you still haven't explained what you were doing at her apartment last night. And what you were doing while you were on the phone with me. Are you going to abandon me again like you did yesterday?"
"Cynthia! Are you still making a scene right now? If you're mad I didn't tell you about fixing the light bulb, what do you want from me? What will it take for you to let me go?"
His patience was clearly running out. His expression made it obvious. He was leaving no matter what.
Cynthia's hand tightened around the divorce papers hidden inside her bag. She had still been hesitating.
She had always been soft-hearted. If he came up with even a halfway convincing excuse, she might still believe him.
But they always treated her like a three-year-old.
She pulled the wrinkled document from her bag. Her voice sounded strangely calm.
"Fine. Compensate me, then. Sign this housing contract, and I'll let you go."
Russell didn't even glance at it. He grabbed a pen and signed immediately.
His brows even relaxed.
It was just like the countless times before, buying her a car, a house...
Money was all it took to keep her quiet.
What he never understood was that money had never been what moved her.
He had started his company using her connections and family resources. Why would she care about material things?
What had touched her all those years was the small, clumsy efforts hidden behind those gifts. The sincerity he once had.
Russell handed back the document without hesitation. Then he picked up Jessica and walked away.
Cynthia stood there holding the paper. She cried. Then suddenly she laughed.
She laughed at herself. How had she ever believed this man was her salvation?
The light he brought into her life had never been different from the people who hurt her before.
If that were the case, then when the cooling-off period ended, they would simply walk away from each other forever.
When she returned home, Cynthia began researching the best neurosurgeons she could find.
- Writer
