The Farewell
1359 Words
HERA POV
The moment I stepped out of the car in front of our mansion, I could already feel the heaviness in the air. The house that I once dreamed would be filled with a family’s laughter now felt like nothing more than a giant coffin made of cement and glass.
I slowly walked inside, carrying a small bag with my things from the hospital. My stitches still hurt, but every step I took toward that door hurt even more.
“Hera, you’re home,” Jaxen greeted me. He was standing in the foyer, holding a glass of scotch even though it was still midday.
“I am,” I replied shortly. I didn’t look at him. I walked straight to the living room, but I froze when I saw a familiar figure lying on my favorite sofa.
Bianca. She was wearing one of my silk robes, with an ice pack on her head, surrounded by pillows that I personally chose for this house.
“Oh, Hera! You’re back! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to visit you in the other ward,” Bianca said sweetly. Her voice sounded like sugar laced with poison. “That was such a terrible thing that happened, right? Jaxen told me about the… well, you know. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I didn’t respond. I looked at Jaxen, who was now beside Bianca, adjusting her blanket.
“Why is she here, Jaxen?” I asked. My voice was as cold as the air conditioner inside the house.
“Hera, be reasonable. Her apartment is on the fifth floor, and there’s no elevator because it’s broken. She can’t be climbing stairs with her fractured leg,” Jaxen explained without looking at me. “She’ll stay here for now while she recovers. There’s more space here and the helpers can take care of her.”
“This is our home, Jaxen. My home,” I reminded him.
“And I pay the mortgage, Hera. Don’t start a fight now, I’m tired,” he cut me off. He turned to Bianca and his expression softened. “Are you hungry? What do you want for lunch?”
“Actually, Jax, I’m craving some rice porridge. The one with lots of ginger and toasted garlic,” Bianca said, then looked at me. She smiled slyly. “Hera, you’re good at making that, right? Jaxen said that’s what you cook for him when he’s sick. Can you make some for me? My stomach feels a bit sensitive today.”
I stared at her. She was turning me into a maid in my own home, right in front of my husband. And what hurt even more? Jaxen was waiting for my answer.
“Hera, please. Just this once. For everyone’s peace,” Jaxen said.
I took a deep breath. “The kitchen is that way, Bianca. If you’re hungry, call the maid. I’m going upstairs.”
“Wait, Hera!” Bianca called out, trying to get up, so Jaxen immediately supported her. “Can you at least bring me my medicine? I think I left it on the dining table. And oh, can you get me some fresh towels? The soft ones, okay?”
“Hera, you heard her, right?” Jaxen added, clearly getting irritated by my refusal. “Just help her. Can’t you at least be compassionate for once?”
Compassionate. That word, coming from the man who didn’t even hug me when he found out our child was gone.
“I’m tired, Jaxen. I just got out of the hospital,” I said, trying to steady my voice.
“We’re all tired, Hera! Bianca is injured! You? You’re just being bitter because she’s here,” Jaxen snapped.
I didn’t respond anymore. I went upstairs, each step on the staircase feeling like punishment to my body. When I entered our room—now smelling like Bianca’s perfume, probably because Jaxen had let her stay there earlier—I immediately locked the door.
I didn’t cry. There were no tears left. I opened the vault inside my closet. I took out our marriage contract. Also stored there were documents I had prepared long ago for our future—savings accounts, property papers. But there was one folder I pulled out, given to me by my lawyer friend.
Divorce Papers. I knew there was no divorce in the Philippines, but since Jaxen had dual citizenship and we were married abroad, I knew I could use it. I took out a large suitcase. One by one, I folded my clothes. I didn’t take the expensive gowns or jewelry he bought for me. I only took the things I bought with my own money when I was still working as a designer.
It was already night when I finished. As I went downstairs, I heard their laughter from the dining area. They were happily eating. The porridge our maid cooked for Bianca must have been delicious.
I walked toward them, dragging my suitcase. They stopped laughing. Bianca’s eyes widened while Jaxen slowly put down his spoon.
“What is this, Hera? Where are you going?” Jaxen asked, staring at my suitcase.
“I’m leaving, Jaxen,” I said seriously. I placed the folder on the table, right in front of his plate.
“What is this? Another one of your tantrums?” he said irritably as he opened the folder. He froze when he read what was inside. “Divorce? Are you serious? Hera, don’t be ridiculous. We just had a fight and you already want to separate?”
“We’re not just fighting, Jaxen. We’re done,” I answered.
“Hera, wait,” Bianca interrupted, holding Jaxen’s arm. “Is this because of me? I can leave if you want. Don’t ruin your marriage because of me.”
I looked at Bianca. “Stop acting, Bianca. You won. You can have the house, you can have the husband, and you can even have my silk robes. I don’t care anymore.”
“Hera, go back upstairs and put that suitcase away,” Jaxen ordered, standing up and walking toward me. “You’re just emotional because of what happened at the hospital. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Jaxen. I gave you three years. I gave you a child that we lost because you thought I was overreacting,” I said, staring straight into his eyes. “Now, I’m giving you your freedom.”
“You won’t survive a day without me, Hera. Who’s going to pay your bills? Your luxuries?” he challenged, trying to turn the conversation back to money to stop me.
“I’d rather struggle than stay in this house that smells like rotting love,” I replied, gripping the handle of my suitcase tightly.
“Hera, please, don’t do this. We’ll be humiliated in the business world if people find out we separated,” Jaxen said, still thinking about his reputation.
I looked around the mansion one last time. “The papers are signed, Jaxen. All you need to do is add your signature.”
“I’m not signing that,” he said firmly.
I walked toward the door without looking back. When I reached the main door, I heard his footsteps following me.
“Hera! I’m warning you! If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” Jaxen shouted from the middle of the living room.
I paused for a moment, holding the doorknob, and glanced slightly at him.
“That’s the plan, Jaxen. Don’t worry, I won’t even leave a footprint.”
“Where will you go? You have nowhere to stay!” he called out.
“To a place where I don’t have to beg for my husband’s attention,” I replied.
“You’ll come crawling back in a week, Hera! Remember that!”
I opened the door and was met by the cold air outside. I faced him one last time with a faint smile—a smile he hadn’t seen in three years.
“Don’t be too confident, Jaxen. You might be the first one to kneel between us.”
- Writer
