Wilbert panicked right away and ran to her, carrying her body out like she was the only one that mattered. The doctors rushed after him and left my dad still lying there on the bed. The alarms kept blaring and my tears would not stop. I screamed, “Don’t go, save my dad! Please, Wilbert, you promised, you said you would save him!”
I tried to block him, but he never even looked at me. His eyes were only on Nivianne. He pushed past me and rushed to the next bed with the doctors. Their hurried footsteps crushed against mine and the pain was too much to even form words.
I was too late.
I clung to his legs and begged him, but he shoved me off like I was nothing. He even kicked me hard to get rid of me. I flew back and slammed my head against the wall. My eyes caught sight of my dying father lying helplessly on the bed and I thought my heart had been torn to shreds.
“Dad, Dad!” I cried, but Wilbert’s voice cut through the noise.
“Don’t be afraid, Nivianne. I’m right here, okay? I'm right here...” He said it with so much fear in his tone, but it was not for me.
He looked back only because of the sound of my head hitting the wall. Then he waved to two interns and sent them into my dad’s ward. “Your father won’t die, I’ll keep my promise,” he said coldly. “But no one can stop me from saving Nivianne.”
The world turned black.
Before fainting, the only thought in my mind was that I needed to leave. I had to disappear from his world forever.
....
When I woke up, there was a card on my bedside table. A note was tucked under it. “Your dad’s surgery has to wait a little longer. That was all I needed to read. It meant one thing. For Nivianne, Wilbert could wait on anything. For me and for my dad, we were always second place.
My chest was hurting so bad I could barely breathe, and then suddenly I laughed. It was not the kind of laugh that makes you feel lighter. It was bitter and broken, the kind that comes out when your heart is tearing apart. Holding my chest, I picked up my phone and called Wilbert's grandfather. The one who wanted me gone.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll divorce him. But I need your help. Help me fake my death. I want to take my brother and my dad and disappear forever.”
Two days later, when I was discharged, I already had the divorce papers ready. My lawyer prepared everything.