TRAPPED, HER DIVORCE
2323 Words
CHAPTER 4: TRAPPED, HER DIVORCE
“How long are you planning to keep Italia here, Gustav?” When Zamiel barged in on his office, Gustavio isn’t surprised either.
He just rub his temples, and stared at the latter coldly.
“Why do you care?” He was stoic.
Zamiel’s jaw clenched.
“You’re being an asshole to her, didn’t you know that?” He was sarcastic.
Those words were like knives that penetrated deep on Gustavio’s core, but he never wonder why his hate towards Italia was intense. His loathsome, and the way his blood boil, whenever he catch a glimpse of her.
Zamiel wouldn’t understand.
Nobody would decipher the distraught cause by that woman that there are times where he wished he never met her. If he hadn’t—the tragedy wouldn’t took place. The remnants, the helpless him came back made Gustavio’s chest filled with an uproar. His fury was unending, but his visage remain cold, although the emotions set ablaze were already in flame.
“And you are being a bastard.” He gritted his teeth. “Had you forgotten what she did? Have you throw away her death just because of that woman?!”
“Gustav!”
The empty glass placed on top of his table shattered as it fell on the tiled floor.
Zamiel was stunned. But the next words Gustavio uttered totally left him frozen on the spot.
“She was the one, who killed Ana!” Gustav’s voice boomed.
“Gustav—”
“No, if you are asking me to forgive her, just no.” His eyes darkened. “I would never forgive her—”
“Is that why you imprisoned Italia here?” Zamiel bitterly asked.
“Imprisoned?” Gustav laughs, but there’s no humour on it. “She was the one who seek for my help, Zam.”
“She didn’t.” Zamiel stared blankly at him. “You planned everything. Do you really think I wouldn’t know how dirty you play your game?”
With that said, Zamiel slammed a brown envelope on top of his table. A few stacks slipped. It include documents and photographs showing Gustavio and...Italia’s own father, Ruscoe Jacob Mercedes. The two seems closed. Who would even realized that it would soon come into an end, where one would be plunged until none was left, while the other was mocking, with prideful eyes as he sink his claws to devoured its foe’s downfall.
“You let them be indebted to you!” Zamiel’s outburst took him by surprise, but the emotions were uncontrolled. Unconcealed grudge he kept, but longs. “And then you take Italia away from her parents!”
He knew for sure why, but he just couldn’t understand. The tragedy that befall on Ana isn’t her fault. The sin of her father shouldn’t be inherited and be blamed towards his daughter. It seems unfair. It doesn’t feel right, or was it because he had more reason than what his mind was telling him to?
“Just shut the hell up, Zamiel—” Gustav was also on a brink, but only to get stopped.
The locked door was pushed open. The creak caught both men in surprise, but what left them stunned—shunned on their feet, when a tear-stricken Italia was standing there. She was listening, but for how long?
“H—how long had you been there?” Zamiel stammered.
“L-long enough to hear everything, Zam.” Her sobs took course. Her eyes are filled with tear, moist and damp, while they sullen with sadness.
Gustavio stared wide-eyed, but he quickly composed himself.
“I told you not to ever stand outside my door!” The stern expression on his face came back.
Italia flinched. However, at the moment, there’s this sudden course of courage that boldly gripped her chest. To think about what happened. The f*****g marriage, and the love she thought she could still fix, but no. It was a foul fate, where she was played as a pawn.
“It’s funny.” Italia laugh.
The tears stream on her face.
She faced him.
“Italia...” Zamiel trailed off, but he didn’t dare to walk closer at her, because he knew how much pain had they both cause to her.
“Don’t.” Her voice breaks. “Just don’t try to pretend as if you knew nothing, when you know exactly why, Zam!”
“I—I didn’t know at first—”
“But you didn’t even tell me, when you find out the truth.” Her words are filled with unbearable pain.
How can she describe this feeling? The precipice where she’s at edge. She was disappointed.
Zamiel hangs his head low.
Crestfallen, Italia focus her eyes to the man who still matter to her after all the tears she shed.
How did she gain so much pain from someone who doesn’t care anymore?
“You....H—how dare you?” Her teeth clenched. “H—how f*****g dare you to play with me?!”
Her fury took the pair surprised.
Gustavio on the other hand remain instilled on his place.
If she was mad, he seems to be more livid, his spleen wrath his eyes set on display. Yet what fear left on her, when she had nothing? Her parents....gone. The great line of Mercedes who took their lives when they lost everything.
“I—is it because of her?”
“You don’t have any right to speak about her!” His hostility rancour.
“Y—yes.... Yes, I do, because now we’re even.” She gulp hard the lump that was forming inside her throat.
Her eyes are vague. Bitterness swept her on her feet.
“You killed my parents, I killed Ana, right—?”
Italia wasn’t finish yet, when the next thing she knew, she was pinned on the wall with Gustavio’s hands curling around her neck.
“What the f**k did you say?!” The anger set ablaze his once gorgeous emerald orbs she treasured the most.
But it’s too much. Being a fool once is enough. Taking the same road twice were like a suicidal decision that would have gotten herself killed by the same man she ought to save.
Her promises came back. The tragic night flashed before her eyes.
There she saw her. Italia saw the woman whom she could never replaced on his stoned cold heart.
“A—ana! Oh my god!” Trembling, Italia rushed to her aide, but the latter was losing too much blood.
When their body made in contact, she was already cold. Ana’s lips were pale, and her eyes—they were simultaneously blinking as if they were ready to shut down in any minute. On her torso, the bloods were gushing warm.
“O—oh my god!” Panic seized her. “Stay here, while I c—call for help...”
“N—no, don’t go...”
“W—what?” Italia gulps.
“I—I won’t last long a—anyway...” The woman she held on her arms cough bloods.
“D—don’t you ever say that!” Tears streamed from her eyes. Her stoic expression, and the selfish Italia earlier had been replaced. “I—I’m sorry, if I hadn’t... I—if I....”
Lament filled her heart.
“Y—yes, it’s your fault, but I—I can’t blame you.” Ana smiled sadly. “N—nobody had wanted it to happen—”
“B—but if I hadn’t told my parents that I also like him, it wouldn’t come to this, they wouldn’t force me to marry Gustav—”
“I—it’s too late.” Ana bitterly uttered. “I—I wanted to curse you, and b—be mad at you, but thinking about it—we’re just both a victim of love.”
A victim of love. How cruel those words was.
“I—Italia, I know I’ll die—” Her voice is getting weaker and weaker.
“A—Ana....”
“—but before I go, can you promised me one thing?” The latter asked.
“Anything.” Italia uttered helplessly.
“T—take care of Gustav for me, and love him....live him d—dearly, Italia.”
To which she had done, but in return—Italia found herself broken....to the core. She took all the blame, and all the hate, be called a criminal and a b***h, when the only crime she commit that day....was to love the man who already belongs to somebody else.
When Italia opened her eyes again, the memory fade in a blur.
She found herself facing Gustavio, and the same hate he always remind her for.
“W—we’re even now...” His hold is getting tighter and tighter.
Italia did not resist his anger.
“Y—you killed my parents, Gustav, y—yet you blame me although not seeing whether I was the one who cause Ana her death....?” Italia lost any care anymore.
As if a cold water has been splash all over him, Gustavio’s hold loosened.
Italia fell on the floor coughing.
That seems to have woken Zamiel from his shocked.
“I—Italia!” He rushed to her side, but she hold up her hand.
“N—no.” Her throat was throbbing. “I don’t need any of your pity, you Salvadors!”
Zamiel looked at her sadly, but he did not speak a single word. It was as if he could understand where her anger was coming from.
“And you.” Italia picked herself up without any help. “You hated this marriage, right?”
Gustavio remain silent, but he was breathing hard.
“Well, I think this would be in favour of you, Mr. Salvador.”
With that said, Italia brought the papers, slamming it on Gustavio’s chest as she stared at him rather coldly.
“Here are my divorce papers.” She knew for a fact what this meant. Walking away, and choosing herself for once means breaking the promises she hold dearly. “And don’t worry, I already signed them for you.”
“You didn’t mean this....” Zamiel was the one who reacted first.
“Well, I guess, but I won’t settle for a murderer of a husband I had.” She was bold. “Goodbye, Gustav, and I hope....I hope I’ll never see you again, but the next time we meet? I am going to make your life a living hell the same way you does to mine...”
But can she do it?
When she turned her back to leave, Italia held her head high. Never will she bow to no man again. Never will she be a slave to any Salvador, especially to Gustavio Eneriquez Salvador.
**
She should have not been reckless. When Italia stormed out, she was not thinking straight, but that doesn’t mean the divorce she offered to Gustavio were all nothing, but a lie.
“Oh f**k this life.” Italia cursed.
Seeing herself on a road, where she had nobody to call. She refused to even seek help from Zamiel. After what happened, although she felt guilty. Zamiel is too kind for her, but perhaps, a Mercedes like her, and a Salvador like him isn’t meant to befriend one another. They were made to hate each, same with how she ended her marriage—her loveless marriage to Gustavio.
Italia sighs.
“Well, I guess, I am all on my own.”
Wiping the sweat on her forehead, Italia began walking to who knows where her feet would lead her to. But it didn’t take her another minute when she felt her temple throb, and her eyes are starting to get blurry.
“W—what..?” Italia was confounded. “W—what’s happening?”
She stop on her tracks. For awhile, all she hope and could think about was how great it was to lie on her bed, but she couldn’t go back now.
A car stop beside her.
The driver rolled his window down.
“Are you okay, Miss?” Or more like it was a she.
“I—I’m fine—”
“But you doesn’t look too good.” The woman seems worried. “Hop in, I don’t mind giving you a ride.”
At some point, Italia would have never agreed, but her head was making it worst.
“I—thank you.” When she pulled open the door, the open AC and the chilly air coming from it she breathe already made her feel relieved.
Her shoulder relaxed. Who would have thought that it was a stranger’s car, if the woman never speak.
“So, how are you feeling?” Intrigued, she asked.
“Better.” Italia admitted.
“Good to hear that.” The car engine roared to life.
“Yeah.” Italia opened her eyes, and there she was meet with a pair of curious eyes that was staring back at her. “My name is Italia, what was your name?” She added.
The woman smiled, but was it her eyes that was playing tricks on her as she saw something behind her irises? It was too fast, but she was certain to see grudge...and pain? Pain from what?
“My name is Minchin... Minchin Torres.” The woman’s smile faded. “And it was a pleasure to meet you, Italia.”
As her name rolled on her tongue, Italia couldn’t help but wonder how familiar this woman was, and how it seems like it wasn’t the first time they had run across each other.
Minchin Torres along with the memories of the past that was totally buried and forgotten.
@cycy
- Writer
