I stayed at the retreat for nearly a hundred days before finally returning home.
There were matters that needed my attention.
The first thing I did upon my return was visit Caleb.
By then, he was in the ICU, his frail body hooked up to countless tubes and machines.
He looked more like a ghost than a man.
The doctor met me at the door with a grave expression.
“Mrs. Archer,” he said, his voice low and hesitant, “we’ve done everything we can. Right now, his life is being sustained purely by machines.”
“His condition is critical, and there’s little more we can do. Continuing treatment will require increasingly expensive medications just to prolong his life for a short time.”
“What would you like us to do?”
“Stop the treatment,” I said flatly, my voice devoid of emotion.
The doctor hesitated but nodded, clearly uncomfortable with my decision.
When the news was relayed to Caleb, his eyes shot open in shock.
He writhed weakly, his body struggling against the machines that kept him alive.
His eyes locked onto mine, wide with panic, and I could see the silent plea in them.
But his desperation only disgusted me.
I stared back coldly, and something in my gaze must have conveyed the truth he feared most.
His expression shifted to one of pitiful resignation, and yet, all I could feel was revulsion.
How ironic, I thought, remembering my past life.
I had begged him to come see our daughter in her final moments, but he had refused.
He had looked me in the eyes and told me that Ivy’s death was a stain on his family’s legacy, that she wasn’t even worthy of being buried in the family plot.
That memory burned in my chest as I watched him now, begging me with his eyes for mercy.
14:13
Screw You, Ex! My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
84.0
Chapter 7
Caleb’s mother, however, didn’t share his silence.
She stormed into the room, her voice shrill with outrage as she threw herself at me.
“You can’t do this! He’s your husband! How could you be so heartless?”
I met her fury with icy indifference.
This woman, who had plotted to take my family’s fortune and refused to allow my daughter’s burial in their family cemetery, was nothing to me.
I had no reason to care about her protests, and she should have been grateful I hadn’t dealt with her more harshly.
Without the machines sustaining him, Caleb’s body gave out within three days.
After his death, I wasted no time.
His mother was evicted from the home, her cries of outrage echoing as she left.
She tried to retaliate, showing up at my company’s front door with reporters, claiming I was a cruel and unfit widow who had abandoned her dying husband.
But I was ready.
When the reporters turned their cameras on me, I calmly presented the evidence of Caleb’s infidelity–photos, messages, everything.
The reporters left with their stories flipped, and Caleb’s mother slunk away in humiliation.
As for Marissa, she had vanished entirely.
Three years later, I heard rumors that someone had seen her in a distant country.
Word had it that she had crossed paths with a powerful spiritual leader there, only to fall victim to his retribution
after she caused his death.
According to the story, she had been reduced to nothing more than ashes, sealed in a jar as punishment for her sins.
By then, my life had moved on.
Ivy was thriving, her laughter filling our home.
She was ready to start kindergarten, her little face lighting up with excitement as she prepared for her first day.
14:13
