Served Scraps By My Cruel Husband

Bolden took the stairs two at a time, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He was going to his office, his sanctuary. And I was left in the wreckage of our shared life.

Kandace, ever the opportunist, seized the moment. She stepped between me and the nursery door, her hand resting on my hip, a territorial gesture. "Sweetheart," she purred, her voice sickly sweet. "Bolden wants you to drive him to that new development site. You know, the one where they're building the new Mathews Corp campus." She paused, her smile widening. "You haven't been out much, have you? It'll do you good to see some of the city, even if it's just from the car."

I swallowed, the unspoken meaning hanging heavy in the air. You're not allowed to go anywhere alone. You're still under conservatorship. You're still a prisoner.

"Of course," I said, my voice flat. "I'll get the keys."

She stepped aside, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. A small victory for her. But I had a different destination in mind.

I drove, my hands tight on the steering wheel. The familiar streets blurred past, each turn a painful echo of a life I once lived. The city skyline, once a symbol of my ambition, now a monument to my loss. My stomach tightened. This wasn't the way to the new development. My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew this road. And a cold dread settled in my gut.

This was the road to home. My childhood home. The one Bolden and Kandace had recently put up for sale.

I gripped the wheel tighter. No. They wouldn' t.

I slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching, just short of the old familiar gate. Bolden wasn't even aware I'd stopped. He was too busy on his phone, oblivious.

I flung the car door open, rushing out and stumbling onto the gravel driveway. My eyes widened, my breath caught in my throat. My home. My beautiful, sprawling family estate. It was gone. Replaced by a construction site. A gaping hole in the earth where my rose garden used to be.

Bulldozers stood idle, their massive blades smeared with mud. Workers in orange vests moved like ants, dismantling what was left. My heart shattered into a million pieces. They hadn' t just sold it. They' d demolished it.

"Excuse me!" I shouted, my voice hoarse. A young worker looked up, startled. "What are you doing? Where is the house? Where are the Matheses?" He scratched his head, then pointed to a pile of rubble.

"Oh, the old place? Yeah, that got torn down. New commercial complex going up. They moved the family cemetery to the new site, though. Out near the old Mathews Corp office park." He shrugged, utterly indifferent.

Another worker, older, with kind eyes, approached. He looked from me to Bolden, who was still absorbed in his phone. "Bolden Richardson, isn't it? The new CEO. Amazing what he' s doing with the Mathews legacy. A real visionary." He smiled, oblivious.

Bolden looked up from his phone, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He saw me, saw the gaping wound where my home once stood. And then, a shadow passed over his features. A flicker of something that could almost be regret. He avoided my gaze.

"Cassie, darling, don't mind them," Bolden said, his voice strained. "It was just an old house. Sentimental value, I know. But progress, my love. Progress." He tried to put an arm around me, but I pulled away.

My mind went numb. My home. My father's resting place. Gone. The earth seemed to tilt beneath me. A wave of nausea washed over me, stronger than before. Everything went gray.

The sky, mirroring my despair, opened up. Rain lashed down, cold and relentless. I ran. I ran towards the old Mathews Corp office park, towards the new site, towards any semblance of what I had lost. The wind howled, whipping my hair across my face.

I stumbled in the mud, falling hard. My hands, still raw from Bolden's punishment, scraped against sharp fragments of concrete and splintered wood. Broken pieces of my life, my history, scattered everywhere. I scrabbled through the debris, desperate, searching for anything. A piece of china from my mother's tea set. A stone from my father's garden path. Anything.

A shard of glass, glinting wetly, sliced into my palm. I barely registered the pain. My fingers closed around a familiar smooth, cold object. It was a fragment of the marble statue that once graced our foyer. My heart ached, a deep, hollow throb.

"Father," I whispered, tears mixing with rainwater on my face. "Oh, Father. I'm so sorry. I failed you. I failed to protect your legacy. I failed everyone."

The storm intensified, visibility dropping to almost nothing. The world was a blur of gray and green.

"Cassie?!" Bolden's voice, distant and strained, cut through the wind. "Cassie, where are you?" His concern, I knew, was purely for appearances. He couldn't afford for his mentally unstable wife to go missing, especially not here. Not now.

Then, Kandace appeared, a bright yellow umbrella a stark contrast to the gloom. She found me first, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else. Something cold. Malicious.

"There you are, you crazy bitch!" she shrieked, her voice barely audible over the wind. She rushed forward, grabbing me by my good arm, her nails digging in. "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't you dare ruin this for Bolden! Don't you dare ruin my life!" She shoved me, hard. I stumbled, my feet slipping in the mud.

"You should be dead!" she hissed, her face contorted with rage. "You should have stayed locked up! My life would be perfect if you weren't here!"

She dragged me towards the edge of the muddy pit, the ground crumbling beneath my feet. I gasped, struggling to breathe, the stench of damp earth and shattered dreams filling my lungs. My other hand, still clutching the marble fragment, scraped against the muddy ground.

"Kandace! What the hell are you doing?!" Bolden's roar was closer now.

Kandace spun around, her eyes wild. "Tell her, Bolden! Tell her you'll choose me! Tell her you don't want her! Choose me!"

She released me, but her foot shot out, tripping me. I cried out, falling headfirst into the pit, the marble fragment still clutched in my hand. Kandace screamed, a high-pitched, terrified sound. She lost her footing too, tumbling after me.

I landed hard, my body hitting sharp edges, my head cracking against something solid. The marble fragment pierced my side, a searing pain blooming across my ribs. Kandace landed on top of me, her weight driving the shard deeper. I gasped, blood filling my mouth. I felt a warm, sticky rush down my side.

Warmth. Then cold. My vision blurred. I could hear Bolden's panicked shouts.

Through the haze, I saw him. Bolden, scrambling down the muddy slope. He reached us, his face pale with horror. He looked at Kandace, then at me.

Kandace was sobbing, clutching her ankle. "Bolden! My ankle! It's broken! She tried to kill me!"

Bolden looked at me, his eyes filled with a terrifying calculation. He reached for Kandace, pulling her into his arms. "My love, my poor love," he murmured, stroking her hair. He didn't even glance at me.

It was happening again. The same choice. The same betrayal. My father, bleeding out on the floor, and Bolden, holding Kandace, pretending to comfort her. He had chosen her then. He was choosing her now.

"Bolden," I choked out, a raw, desperate sound. "It hurts."

He looked at me then, his eyes brief, cold. A flicker of something, perhaps guilt, perhaps annoyance. But it was fleeting. Then, he was focused on Kandace again.

"I need to get you help, my darling," he said to her, his voice frantic. "Stay here. I'm going to call for help." He kissed her forehead, then scrambled back up the muddy slope, leaving me bleeding, dying, at the bottom of the pit.

I clutched the marble fragment, my father's fragment. The rain continued to fall, washing away my tears, my blood, my pain. "Father," I whispered, the name a ragged breath. "I'm so sorry. I should have seen it. I should have protected you. I never should have left you alone with him."