Chapter 117 Chapter 95 (2)
I look at him puzzled. "Sorry for what?" I ask softly.
"For everything," he replies sadly. "For all the mess that has happened lately. It's all my fault," he says with regret.
I smile, squeezing his hand with the last of my strength. "You don't need to apologize. This is fate," I answer sincerely. "The scenario that God has written for us," I continue.
My husband looks stunned as he gazes at me. I just smile.
"How is Jovanka doing?" I prompt. There's no way I can tell my husband that the woman just came and said something unpleasant, right?
"Right now, she's starting to stabilize. Yesterday, she attempted suicide at the office by cutting her wrist. And last night, she tried to jump from the building's roof," my husband's voice sounds so melancholic. I really want to hug him. But I have to hold back.
"She needs psychiatric treatment, Madam. The doctor said, without treatment, there's a high chance she'll attempt suicide again. Or even harm herself. And it would be dangerous if she hurts someone else."
I simply nod my head. Even though I feel like everything my husband said isn't true. Jovanka does need psychiatric treatment, but not because she intends to commit suicide, but rather to rid herself of her obsession with Altezza. What that woman did in front of me clearly indicates that she is sane and is executing everything with a clear plan. Jovanka just wants to toy with Altezza. She wants to make my husband feel guilty until he has no choice but to say 'yes' to her every demand. She plays her role so perfectly that even the experts can't distinguish between acting and reality. But I don't want to further burden my husband by voicing my thoughts.
"So what are you going to do now?" I ask, curious. Though deep down, I already have an inkling of what he'll say. But still, I want to hear it from him.
"I'm sorry," he says softly. "She doesn't have anyone here. She can't rely on anyone. No parents, no family to take care of her. While you still have your mother, Aunt Emma, and Mamma." My husband's words make me want to laugh sadly. I tug at the corner of my mouth and smile, agreeing with whatever my husband decides.
"She needs help, and no one else can help her but me," he continues, to which I respond with another nod. "Would you be okay if I took care of her until she recovers?"
I look into his eyes. There's a pleading look in them. I smile again.
"Would you leave her if I asked?" I want to ask him that in return, but I know I shouldn't burden him like that. Instead of expressing what's in my mind, I can only ask, "Do you believe it's the best thing for her?" and I see him nod. "If you believe it's the best for her, then do it. I won't object," I reply, trying to sound strong.
My husband smiles, looking pleased with what I've just said. Little does he know that I'm actually hurt by that decision. But seeing him glowing and optimistic, I can't help but smile along.
"Thank you," he says, kissing the back of my hand. "I know you'll understand my situation, Madam."
I stay silent. 'No, Al. I don't understand. I really don't want to understand. But this situation forces me to. As much as I understand my own worthlessness in your eyes.' My inner voice stings.
"Go on. Maybe she's waiting for you," I softly command. Not because I'm willing to let him go, but because I can no longer hold back these tears. I don't want him to see them. I don't want him to see my vulnerable side.
"But..."
"You just relax. I'll take good care of these babies. Go and take care of Jovanka until you feel you've helped her enough," I command, still smiling.
He smiles again and nods. He rises to his feet and kisses the top of my head. I try to bite my lip and keep smiling until he disappears behind the door.
I thought I was strong, but I'm not. Even before the door closes tightly, my tears burst forth uncontrollably.
The three women I cherish appear and look at me sadly. I cry, sobbing in their embrace. "Mother..." I reach out to my mother's body tightly, begging for her energy so I can endure.
Mamma hugs me from behind. Her hands feel like they're stroking my arms, as if she's trying to send her positive energy to me.
And my Auntie looks tearful in the corner of the bed while holding onto my foot.
'Oh God, I didn't think it would hurt this much. But it really does hurt. But for the sake of my children, I beg you to give me strength.'
I keep crying until my body feels limp. Even Stefanie is surprised to see me in such a state during her routine check-up visit. She must have seen my swollen eyes and red nose. But I still try to smile at her.
Yes. At least I can still smile even though my heart is crying. Because I don't like to see the pitying glances people