I raised mine in defense, but two police officers restrained me.
Victoria wrapped her arms around him from behind, her voice soft and coaxing.
“Baby, calm down. Let me handle this, alright?”
He roared like a furious beast, yet she stayed gentle, as though soothing a spoiled child. Not a single harsh word for him.
Instead, she turned to me, frowning, pleading.
“Please, just leave.”
Her stance was clear—against me, protecting him. I was humiliated in front of everyone.
The woman who once swore to love me, who vowed never to let anyone hurt me, now stood with her mistress to trample me. Pain boiled over, and before I knew it, my hand lashed out, striking her.
“You and your mistress are bullying me!”
She didn’t fight back. She absorbed the slap; her face stung, but her heart still leaned toward Andrew.
Outraged, he charged again, shouting:
“You bastard! You dare lay a hand on my woman? I’ll kill you!”
Again, Victoria held him, soothing his anger.
“Okay, okay, it’s fine. Don’t get upset.”
“Then why did he hit you!” he fumed.
Through it all, she clung to him, holding him tight, their bodies pressed together like lovers.
The police stepped between us, finally demanding proof.