Chapter 43 Story of betrayal
VICTORIA
I jerked my head towards the man, eyes as wide as saucers, while he approached us.
“Anita!" He called when he reached us.
He looked like he was in his sixties. The corner of his widened eyes crinkled.
His hair was grey, his beard almost white, with a stain of black scattered around it. His sharp brown eyes stared at the woman with lips parted in shock, confusion, and horror.
“What are you doing here, Elliot?" The woman snapped, voice hoarse and filled with hatred.
The man glanced back like he was searching for someone, then back at her.
“I came to get something for work…” he paused and sighed loudly.
"I've been looking everywhere for you, Anita–”
"And I wish you never did!” The old woman spat.
I felt like I didn't deserve to be there as I watched them. The man begging for a slice of her attention, the woman pushing him away with a sharp, venomous tongue.
“You want me back after leaving with the children?" She huffed, and my gaze rose towards the man.
My belly twisted, and anger surged through me as the thought of Simon's betrayal sneaked into the back of my head. He was one of them. One of those betraying scumbags.
“What happened? Evelyn left you? Couldn't she bear to take care of your children? Now you want me to sit back and take care of them?" The woman groused and slapped him hard against his chest.
The man staggered back, regret and pain bouncing in his eyes.
The anger in me increased as the flashes of what Simon and Erica did to me filled my head. My fist clenched, and my lips trembled in rage as the man’s annoying excuse filtered into my itching ears.
“I've hated myself for years, Anita, not just me, but the children hated me too. They left, they're all grown now and… and…”
"Stop with the pity party!” I snapped as I stepped in between them.
"You left her, and now you want her back, huh?” I growled, forcing him to take a step back.
The man swung his head to the side in confusion. He looked over my shoulder towards the woman, questions in his eyes.
"Who is she?” He pointed at me.
"Her daughter, why do you care?” I spat out before thinking twice.
My blood froze, and so did that of the man. His jaw dropped, and the horror in his eyes got clearer. His eyes darted from my pale face to that of the woman, lips opening and slamming shut in a stutter.
“Your daughter? You… you had a daughter?” The man asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
Silence trailed after his question as we stood on the spot, staring at each other.
I wondered what the woman's reaction looked like when I said that. But whatever she felt, I was sure it wasn't good.
Did I get her upset with my blabber? Did I hurt her with those words?
“Yes, she's my daughter," the woman said, gripping my hand and stepping forward.
My belly knotted as I swerved my head to the side to look at her face. Her face was pale, with eyes still filled with hatred and a fierceness that had always existed since the day we met.
“I'm happy to be away from you, Elliot. Yes, I cried when you left me for your first love, but I've gotten over you and your betrayal. I'm living my dreams as an artist and a teacher, the only thing I hope for is to have my children back to me…” She paused and stepped closer, staring boldly into his eyes.
"The children you took from me!” She spat.
My chest tightened, and my throat ran dry in pain and anger. Who knew what she must have gone through all these years?
I had judged her wrongly. Her behavior was all a result of the trauma and stabs she received from a coward.
“I want to seek your forgiveness," the man whispered.
"Then get Emma and Damion back. That is the only way you'll be forgiven by the Lord.”
With those words slicing through the air, she spun around and pulled me with her, her grip tight around my hand.
We didn't say a word to each other as we walked away. I always turned my head back to look at the man’s glassy eyes till the crowd covered him up.
The woman didn't stop for a moment until we were out of the busy area.
She let go of my hand and ran her hand through her hair, sighing. I could see the pain in her eyes as she stared distantly into the lonely path before us.
“I'm sorry," I whispered after a long stretch of silence.
“You won't understand," she whispered.
“I do, I'm a divorcee too," I muttered.
She looked at me, her eyes dimming in surprise.
“You are?" She asked as she ran her eyes over me.
“He cheated on me with my best friend, got her pregnant and deceived me into signing out my properties to him,” I told her.
Her lips twitched up as surprise darted across her eyes.
“Now, that is worse," she muttered.
I chuckled as we began to walk down the lonely path. When we were coming, the road had humans moving up and down the path, but now, it was isolated. It felt like no one had ever taken this path before.
“I thought it was my fault that he cheated. I blamed myself for not giving him a child, for putting my career first before my marriage, but as years passed, I realized that even if I had done those things I blamed myself for not doing, he would still cheat,” I muttered.
She hummed and nodded. I could tell that my story was slowly easing her up from the pain.
“Well, you're right. I gave up my career and gave him children, a boy and a girl, but he still cheated. I went out to get groceries for the family, and when I returned, he was gone, with the children and his lover, leaving just a letter that I shouldn't look for him, and of course, a divorce paper."
My face twisted with rage, and I tried hard not to openly curse at the man.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that,” I muttered, and she nodded.
From where we were, I could see the woman's truck parked at a distance. But as we trudged closer, I realized that the door to the driver's side was open. Not wide open, but open enough to be seen from the few feet we were at.
“Didn't we lock the door?!" I asked.
The woman raised her head, and her eyes dimmed when her gaze shifted to the door.
“We did, how is it open?" She muttered, confusion laced in her voice.
We quickened our steps towards the truck, panic and fear swelling in my body.
A gasp escaped the woman's lips, and my jaw dropped when I realized that the door was truly open.
My hands trembled as I stared at the door that was swinging open.
The woman searched the car, checking if anything had been stolen.
“Nothing is gone," she said after searching.
I ran my hand through my hair and swung my head around, my heart racing in fear.
The woman straightened up and faced me, her eyes squinting in suspicion.
“Is this about the man after you? The seer was right, wasn't he? This is not the first time you're facing something like this, is it?” The woman asked.
My belly knotted, and I gripped the hem of my shirt, my legs feeling wobbly.
I parted my lips to reply, but paused when my gaze lifted to the path across where we stood.
“Whose house is that?" I asked, switching to another topic.
The woman frowned and looked ahead at the house on top of a small hill.
“Oh, that house, no one knows who lives there, but I do hear some people say that it is occupied by a strange man with a scar running from the top of his nose down to his chin, scary, right?" The woman said.
My body froze, my belly knotted, and I felt my head spin around in a second.
A strange man with a scar running from the top of his nose down to his chin.
Mr Thompson's voice and description of that man at the graveyard echoed in my mind.
It was him. This was where he lived!