But Damian came home with flowers that day, i was once again smitten, throwing everything Chris said out of the window.
Everything changed after five months when he got a call, that dreadful call from ana his childhood friend to inform him that she was back.
My husband left me that night to pick her, ana had been friendly but things never remained the same, the flower stopped, my husband who was obsessed with me slowly started becoming distant.
He no longer bought me flowers saying that it was a waste, but i found out few months ago from ana that he bought her flowers everyday for eighteen months.
Damian started coming home late, when i ask him he would say that work was hectic, one day i found a lipstick stain on his shirt, ana’s favorite shade of lipstick.
He had brushed it off, even accusing me off being jealous and over dramatic.
On my birthday few months ago, ana had insisted we throw a party for me, Damian left all the birthday preparations to her, she had thrown a princess party for me knowing fully well i hated parties like that.
And now i was in the guest room of my matrimonial home with stitches on my stomach while my husband who promised to never hurt me cooked dinner for another woman.
My phone dinged bringing me out of my thoughts, my order had arrived. I went down to slowly using the wall as support, pain shot from my head and my stomach but i ignored it, i had to eat.
My body shook uncontrollably as i went out of the room, i had to eat something.
When i went finally made it down i saw ana standing in the middle of the living room with my takeout in her hand, she took off the cover and began to eat it.
“ ana” i screamed her name,
Chapter 4
That was mine; she had taken my husband, home, car, and job. Did she have to take my takeout too?
“Oh sorry, I was still hungry, so I thought you wouldn't mind sharing,” she said, blinking her eyes at me as tears gathered in them.
Doesn't she ever get tired of crying?
“Don’t bother her, Clara; she was still hungry. The food is enough for you to share; don’t be stingy,” my husband said. He was sitting cross-legged in the living room.
“You can have it,” Ana said, stretching the door to me. I didn't want to eat something she had already eaten, but I had no choice.
I had to eat. I stretched out my hand to take it, but she suddenly let go, the food spilling onto the ground.