His little secret, my sweet sin

CHAPTER 8

~Maryjane’s POV~

“It’s okay Maryjane”. He murmured his words like a soothing balm caressing my skin. “Just let go”.

His hands, strong yet gentle, cupped my waist, guiding me towards the edge of the pool. The water shimmered, I wanted to go in but I just couldn't shake off the fear that ran through me.

“I'm scared”. I whispered.

“I won't let you fall”. He reassured me, his eyes like warm honey staring deep into my soul searching for specks of trust. “Just trust me”.

He guided my arms outward, asking me to float, to let go, to trust him. The water cradled me, “That's it,” He encouraged, his voice a low rumble blending with the soft water sounds.

“Just relax and let yourself go”. His left hand cradled my waist with such tenderness while his right drew lines from in between my breasts to my lower abdomen. My stomach churned and tingles spread across my body.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation. I could feel the fear seep out of me, replaced by a sense of peace, the feeling of being held, being protected, of warmth.

He began to slowly immerse me into the water, deeper and deeper and deeper, and tears streamed down my face. I was ready to let go, I knew I was ready, I had finally dropped all that weight.

I felt a jolt, a sharp jarring sensation, I could feel it rip me away from the sensation I had surrendered to.

My eyes snapped open. The White ceiling came into focus, and my vision blurred.

A sharp pain coursed through my chest, the aftermath of the defibrillator’s shock.

“There you are, you're okay”. I heard relief in the doctor’s voice as she wiped her head.

“Can you hear me?” She asked, her face hovering over mine while she stared at me with concern.

The light in the room was too much for my eyes so I was forced to squint.

“Where is Chris….where is my husband?” I asked while trying to sit up. The fuzziness in my head accompanied by a terrible pain told me to lay the f**k back down.

“Really girl?” Beatrice shook her head, her expression suggesting utter disappointment.

“Okay, sunshine I need to evaluate the damage caused by your two-minute rodeo to the land of your ancestors”. She said lightly, her smile tight.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Maryjane”. I croaked

“And do you know where you are?”

“Hospital”. I managed, my eyes darting around the room.

“That's right”. She said, all smiles.

It all started flooding back, the wedding. The humiliation. Christopher. Calista.

“Take me home”. I said to Beatrice.

“Not so fast Mrs Lopez, we ran some tests while you were unconscious,” the doctor continued, her voice now somber. “And I'm afraid the tumor has spread”.

“Huh? What the f**k is she talking about? What tumor?” a confused Beatrice asked frantically.

“Maryjane here has ovarian cancer,” The doctor answered. “The tumors aren't operable yet so we need to kick start chemo immediately so we can shrink it to just about this size”. She pinched her thumb and index finger together.

“But…..how? When?”

“We can discuss treatment plans in detail but time is of the essence”. The doctor replied while I just sat there mute.

My mind reeled, I had no savings, no job, no business. Matter of fact I had dropped out of fashion school. I sighed, imagining how Nana must be turning in her grave watching how much of a failure I’d morphed into.

“Reach out to my husband I'm sure he’ll put it on his tab”. I chuckled uncomfortably, hoping that there was one vein in Chris that still loved me.

****

“Mr Lopez?” the nurse asked politely, “I'm calling to discuss payment plans for your wife’s treatment”.

“Treatment?” I heard him repeat lazily, “What stupid treatment?”

“Sir it's a really serious matter, your wife has ovarian cancer, and if we don't begin Chemotherapy right away, we’ll be risking metastasis”.

I heard him laugh, and I understood that we were going through a rough patch but did he really hate me that much?

“Look, she has always been an actress, she loves to be pitied”.

“Sir this is serious!” the nurse repeated her voice slightly elevated.

“Do I look like I run a f*****g charity organization here?” Christopher retorted, his voice the coldest I've ever heard.

“Go find someone else to fund this charade and I know damn well you are there MJ! You hear me? Gosh! When I think you are at your lowest you just find a way to go lower” He scoffed and dropped the call.

The nurse stared at me and I could see how much she pitied me. I squeezed my fist boiling over with anger so hot and so fierce.

I stormed out of the hospital not even bothering to take my s**t, “MJ! MJ! Wait up!” Beatrice called out to me, “Look Beatrice thanks for staying by me all this time but I need to get home”. A word was about to leave her mouth but I didn't wait to hear it.

I hailed a cab and before long I was home. “Chris, Chris!” I yelled. He must look me in the face and tell me what the f**k I did to deserve all of this.

“Nina, what's wrong child”. Abuela rushed out with a look that suggested that she was worried sick.

“How dare he? how dare they all?” My heart was palpitating hard in my chest and my body trembled.

“Mr. Lopez isn't here child”. Abuela said, “Hey, MJ what's going on? I heard you scream”. Dean, a drink in hand, said, while Abuela bowed and went back to the kitchen.

“Dean it’s good to see you”. I said, my voice still trembling with rage.

“Hey, hey, hey sit down”. He motioned me to one of the four-seaters

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently, “Chris wouldn't pay for my Chemotherapy, I don’t know why he hates me so much”. I sobbed.

“Chemo?” he raised an eyebrow, “s**t, that's rough”. He muttered finally.

“I don't know what to do”. I confessed, tears falling freely from my eyes.

“Calm down sweet cheeks,” he leaned closer, comforting me, his breath warm against my cheek. “I can help”. He reached out, his fingers tracing a strand of hair that had fallen across my cheek.

“But you know…you gotta make a man happy”. He bit his lips, pulling me closer with his hand sliding down my arm sending a revolting shiver through me.

“We could have some real fun, you know you want it”. He whispered, blowing hot air into my ear as he squeezed my thigh.

“Get your hands off me”. I spat, slapping him across the face.

I stormed out of the house scared, my body shivered and I cried hot tears.

****

“Chris”. Dean said in a low voice. “You wouldn't believe the s**t that just happened”.

“Bro, I don't got time for this s**t. Spill” Christopher responded on the other end of the call.

“MJ, your wife offered to f**k me for some money”. Dean said, “She's desperate, man, get a leash”. The line went silent.