“Vera, you’re a grown woman still throwing a tantrum over a young girl. She only has two months left. Can’t you show some compassion?” Darius said.
He paused and added, “As for Althea, explain the situation to your friends. She’s dying and I don’t want her to hear anything unpleasant.”
At that moment, I felt like I had heard the biggest joke of my life.
My fiancé was planning a wedding with another woman and now he accused me of lacking compassion.
He even expected me to explain the situation to others.
Seeing that I still wasn’t speaking and was lying with my back to him, just like the night before, a flicker of panic appeared in Darius’s eyes.
He frowned and there was worry in his voice.
“Are you sick?” Darius asked.
He took a few steps toward me, sat on the edge of the bed and reached out his hand.
Darius, you better take me to my burial. I never wanted to see you again.
