After Amnesia, My Husband Went Crazy

Chapter 4 Trapped and Drowned

A round-faced woman sneered loudly as I walked by. I stopped and gave her a cold stare. "Oh, I'm not worthy? And what company and department do you work for? I'll have a lawyer send a letter to your supervisor so we can discuss your behavior. Let's see if you're worthy of keeping your job."

Her face turned ghostly white. She hadn't expected me to bite back. Scrambling to her feet, she stammered, "I'm… I'm sorry, Ms. Howell. That was out of line. Please, I beg you—let it go this time!"

All eyes were on me, shocked at my sudden assertiveness. It seemed I'd been swallowing my pride for Gresham's sake all along. But why? Playing nice had only made things worse. Gresham didn't respect me anymore for it. I'd been so blind.

"Willa, come here," Gresham called me over, looking irritated. "Why do you always have to make things difficult?"

I was being difficult? I was the one being insulted, and I was the problem. Sybil was his precious girl and he'd defend her to the end.

Fine, I could almost understand that. But now even a stranger could walk all over me, and Gresham would still take their side. He really didn't give a damn about me.

I shot back, "Didn't you hear her insult me? It's easy for you to say since you're not the one being humiliated!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one had expected me to humiliate Gresham like that, especially in front of everyone. His face darkened, but he held his tongue.

The thrill that had pushed me to come here had vanished. What was I even doing at this ridiculous party? All this just to piss off some conniving "innocent" schemer who wasn't even worth my time? I could be at home, asleep. That would be a million times better.

"Anyone who wants to stay at a party where the host ignores you can go right ahead. I'm out." With that, I spun on my heel and walked off.

The crowd behind me buzzed with shock.

"Willa actually left! She's never walked away from Mr. Hewitt like that. What's going on?"

"Playing hard to get, that's what. Just wait. She'll talk tough now, but she'll come crawling back. She's pulled this crap plenty of times before."

I tuned them out. They were talking about the old Willa, the one who'd trail after Gresham like a lost puppy. That had nothing to do with me now.

I was almost at the door when someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see Sybil clutching me, her face twisted in a fake expression of worry. "Ms. Howell, please! I'm sorry. I've been a terrible host. Don't go…"

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Sybil, aren't you tired of this act? If I were you, I'd just get Gresham to divorce me and kick me out already. Why all this drama?"

For a split second, her sweet mask slipped, revealing a flash of hatred. She leaned in, her voice dripping with venom. "You wretch. You think you're so smart, huh? Staging a suicide to get Gresham's pity so he wouldn't divorce you? Just wait. You're not getting away with this!"

Before I could respond, Sybil gave a shriek and threw herself backward, stumbling toward the pool. She was trying to frame me, right here, right now.

My heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, I reached out to catch her, but I was too slow. Instead, she yanked me along, and together we tumbled into the pool.

Splash!

Water engulfed me, filling my eyes, my nose, my mouth. The shock was instant and all-consuming—I couldn't swim.

I flailed, desperate to keep my head above water, but panic took hold, locking up my limbs. My chest burned as I struggled for air, the edges of my vision going dark.

Through the haze, I saw someone coming. A tall figure, strong jawline, perfectly sharp features… Gresham.

Was he here to save me?

For a split second, hope surged in me. I tried to wave, to reach out to him. But then, I watched in horror as he swam right past me.

He was going to Sybil.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: my own husband, choosing to save another woman while I was drowning.

The pain cut deeper than the lack of air, sharper than the burning in my lungs. Why did it hurt so damn much? Did Willa actually love this man? This spineless, faithless bastard?

I clenched my teeth, clutching my chest. Willa, snap out of it! Don't you dare die for him? Not again. I scolded myself, and under this constant self-reproach, the sharp pain in my chest slowly eased. Feeling crept back into my numb limbs.

I couldn't die. Not for Gresham and not for Sybil. No way in hell.

Fueled by sheer determination to survive, I kicked and thrashed until my fingers finally brushed the edge of the pool. I latched onto it, inching myself up with all the strength I had left.

Breaking through the surface, I gasped for air, and a man on the side quickly hauled me out. I coughed, water sputtering from my lungs as he patted my back, helping me breathe again. The burning pain seared through my chest, obliterating any lingering affection I'd ever had for Gresham.

After what felt like an eternity, I caught my breath. A warmth settled around me as someone draped a coat over my shoulders.

I looked up and met the gaze of the man who'd pulled me out. He was ridiculously handsome, looking at me with genuine concern as he helped me stand.

Just then, Gresham, who had finally seen Sybil, walked over. His eyes darkened as he saw the man holding me up.

With a deadpan expression, he asked, "Are you alright?"

I didn't bother responding. Instead, I raised my hand and slapped him—hard.

Silence fell over the villa. The tension was suffocating. Rage twisted Gresham's face, his eyes blazing as if he wanted to tear me apart. "Are you insane?!"

I met his glare, my voice cold and steady. "Gresham, I want a divorce."