He Left Me for Dead, Now He Begs Me for Mercy

Then she collapsed right into his arms like a perfect performance. He caught her fast. Held her like she was glass about to break.

“Ruby? Ruby, stay with me,” he panicked, eyes wide as he touched her face, checked her pulse. “Somebody! Somebody get the damn car!”

I stayed kneeling. Blood soaking through my pants. I didn’t even try to move.

He lifted her like she was sacred. Carried her like a queen. Before he left, he turned back to me, eyes like knives.

“Don’t move. You hear me? Don’t even breathe too loud. Think about what you’ve done.”

I didn’t speak.

“You don’t deserve a bed,” he said.

Then the door slammed shut behind them.

Silence.

I stayed there. I lost track of time. Maybe ten minutes passed. Maybe more. My legs were numb. My head was floating. Then the door creaked. I didn’t even look up right away.

Tiny footsteps padded across the floor. Then a little voice.

“Why are you sitting like that?” Jude said.

I looked up. He was holding a toy car. One of those blue ones with the doors that open. He looked fresh out of a warm bed, pajamas neat, hair soft and brushed. His face was calm. No fear. No anger.

He squatted beside me, one elbow resting on his knee like he was watching a bug on the ground.

“My mommy’s a really good actress, isn’t she, bitch?” he said, smiling.

My lips parted, but no words came out. He kept grinning, like he told a joke he was proud of.

“Daddy always falls for it. Again and again.”

He pushed the toy car once across the tile, then stood up, humming some tune I didn’t know. No guilt. No concern. Just humming like this was any other morning.

I watched him walk away without turning back.

And all I could do was sit there, whispering to myself.

Soon.

Soon, this would all be over. I had already sent the divorce papers. They were with the lawyer now. All I had to do was wait for the finalization.

Then I could be free.

Then I could make them pay.

---

He came back early in the morning. I heard the door before I saw him. His footsteps were slower this time. He didn’t slam anything. Just walked in like a storm that was already done ruining everything.

Torren didn’t speak right away. He just dropped a bottle in front of me. Painkillers. No label.

He didn’t look at me when he said it. “Try not to kill anyone next time.”

Then he grabbed his keys again. Paused at the door.

“My parents’ anniversary is this weekend. You’re still my wife. People will be looking for you. Bring Cleo.”

I didn’t move.

“You heard me,” he added. “Bring him. Clean him up. Smile. You know the drill.”

Then he left. Back to the hospital. Back to Ruby.

---

Wedding Anniversary Day.

Torren made me ride in the front seat beside the driver. I didn’t argue. I didn’t speak. He didn’t even look at me.

Behind us, Ruby and Jude were cuddled up like they were in a fairytale. She was laughing softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. He leaned his head against her shoulder like a good little prince.

I sat stiff in my plain black dress. The fabric was rough and cheap. Everyone else in the house had already dressed hours ago. Sequins. Embroidery. Jewelry that probably came with its own insurance policy. Ruby wore white. Of course she did. White with pearls down her back, like some kind of saint or bride or both.

Nobody looked at me before we left. Not even Jude. Not even once.

We pulled up to the estate just before the sun went down. There were photographers already waiting at the gate. Bright lights flashing even before the car doors opened.

Torren got out first. Straightened his suit. Fixed his cuffs.

Then he opened Ruby’s door himself.

She stepped out like a queen, smiling at the cameras. Jude followed, holding her hand. The perfect family.

I stepped out quietly on the other side. No one offered me help. My shoes sank into the gravel.

“Don’t speak unless someone talks to you first,” Torren said without turning around.

I nodded.

He didn’t see it. He was already walking toward the entrance, Ruby on his arm.

The ballroom was drowning in gold. Chandeliers. Champagne towers. A live quartet playing something expensive and forgettable.

Torren raised his glass before we even reached the stairs.

“Everyone,” he said. “This is Ruby. My soon-to-be everything.”

Applause.

She smiled and dipped her head like royalty.

“And this,” he said, motioning Jude forward, “is the future of the family.”

The grandparents made Jude bow. Kissed his forehead. Called him smart, perfect, obedient.

I stood at the edge of the room, near the coat racks. My dress didn’t even reach my ankles properly. I looked like the help.

Someone turned to Torren’s mother and asked who I was.

She didn’t even blink.

“Oh, that’s just the old wife,” she said with a sharp smile. “She couldn’t even raise a proper child. Where’s that sick boy she locked in her house all those years? That brat can’t show face now?”

Ruby put a hand to her chest, all fake concern.

“Cleo’s… recovering,” she said gently. “He couldn’t travel. It’s too much for him.” Then she looked at me. Pity painted all over her face. “Poor thing.”

And she kissed Torren on the cheek like I wasn’t even standing there.

My fists curled at my sides. But I didn’t speak.

Then the waiter dropped a silver tray near the dessert tower.

The crash echoed. Everyone turned.

Torren’s father laughed like it was the best joke he heard all night.

“We have guests to honor,” he said loudly. “Not disasters to pity. If she wants to be useful”—he pointed at me—“then let her clean it up.”

A few guests chuckled. Ruby stepped forward, all kindness again.

“She used to be such a good hostess,” she said sweetly. “Maybe she can help pass out the champagne. Just until the servers catch up.”

Torren didn’t say anything.

So I picked up the empty tray.

I followed the waitstaff around the room, carrying flutes and handing out napkins. One of the girls gave me a sad smile. No one else even made eye contact.

Someone near the bar whispered, “Is that the first wife? I thought she was in rehab. Or jail.”

Another voice answered, “I heard she poisoned the house or something. With a child’s ashes. Can you imagine?”

I kept walking. My hands didn’t shake anymore.

They couldn’t take what I already lost. Not again.

Let them think I was nothing.

Soon they’d all see.