My cheeks burned hot and swelled; my speech came out slurred.
“The man who died is your dad. Why wouldn’t he deserve it?”
Richard didn’t—or wouldn’t—understand.
“Bullshit! Just because I call him ‘Dad’ doesn’t put him on the same level as my father!”
He wrested the medal away and, still seething, had Legal draw up divorce papers on the spot.
“Olivia, sign it! I don’t want anything more to do with a woman like you.”
“And don’t think you can run crying to my father—I’ll have him sent overseas so you can’t bother him!”
The sting on my face was nothing next to the pain in my chest.
He wanted me to walk away with nothing.
I refused. He cheated first, and he betrayed all the support my family had given him—why should I leave penniless?
Just then, the Hospital called.
“Mr. Johnson, when is your father coming back for treatment? He’s missed his window, and he’s not answering his phone.”
Richard froze, then seemed to realize something.
“What do you mean? Hasn’t my father been inpatient this whole time?”
When the nurse said George had left with me, Richard hurled his phone at the wall.