Chapter 3
He'd always shield me from his folks, standing firm in silence...
"Taken your meds yet?"
Rickey's tone was gentle and caring, like nothing had changed—as if his earlier harshness had been a figment of my imagination.
Without a word, he fetched a blanket from the closet and tucked it around me, then brought over a glass of water, holding it gently to my mouth.
"Drink this down—stay hydrated, work up a sweat, and you'll bounce back soon enough!"
As I watched him lean over, patiently sifting through the bedside drawer for medicine, the fever must have muddled my thoughts. I choked back a sob, scrambling barefoot out of bed and wrapping my shaking arms around his waist from behind.
He tensed up, his voice rough as he murmured, "What's wrong?"
"Let's try IVF at the hospital... together, okay?
"I can handle it... I know I can..."
I hadn't planned on crying, but scalding tears escaped anyway, trailing down my cheeks.
"It's too late now!"
His reply was raw and fractured, each word piercing me like a barrage of needles.
Too late?
If he'd just end things cleanly with Lucy...
His infidelity crashed over me like a tragic lament, shattering what little hope remained.
"Rickey, the kids are fussing—they're asking for Daddy!"
A voice—familiar yet utterly foreign—ripped through the suffocating quiet.
I glanced toward the door and there she was: Lucy.
After all these years, she hadn't aged a day—soft features, rosy cheeks, exuding that polished, grown-woman charm.
"Hey, Tamra—long time no see!"
A sly glint of triumph flickering in her eyes.
This homewrecker had the nerve to show up at my doorstep and gloat?
The rage inside me boiled over—I couldn't hold it back. I rushed her and landed a sharp slap across her face.
"This is my home—get out now!"
I shrieked, completely unhinged, pushing her as hard as I could.
She cupped her cheek, whimpering pathetically, "Tamra, why? I didn't want this either..."
The second I struck, Rickey charged in, shoving me back with surprising force.
He yanked Lucy into his arms, whispering comforts. When he finally met my eyes, his stare was frigid, like a blizzard in midwinter.
"Tamra, have you lost it? What possessed you to hit Lucy for no reason?"
His expression overflowed with pity for her, while he eyed me like some unreasonable harpy.
Hell, even I wondered if I'd gone mad.
It felt like a boulder was stuck in my throat—I couldn't even muster a sob.
Right then, the last spark of affection I harbored for Rickey flickered out for good.
But before I could shake off the heartache, a pair of six- or seven-year-old twin boys popped out from behind Lucy, rushing at me with tiny fists swinging in fury.
"How dare you pick on our mom! I'll smack you!"
"I'll kill you!"
It was almost laughable—who was the real bully here?
My expression hardened as I shot Rickey a cold glare and snapped, "Get them the hell out of here! I never want to lay eyes on these little bastards in my house again!"
My tone threw Rickey for a loop—he'd never heard me talk to him that way.
He let out a scornful laugh. "I bought this place. This is their home now. Where exactly do you want me to take them? Clean up your language! If anyone's getting out, it's you!"
I managed a bitter smile, my heart shattered into pieces.
I'd footed the bill for this house myself—back then, I was just too slammed with work to deal with the paperwork and signatures, so we put it under his name.
And now, that gave him all the ammo he needed.
Sensing the standoff between Rickey and me heating up, Lucy hurried the twins downstairs. On her way out, she faked some concern. "Tamra's been through a lot—be gentle when you talk to her!"
Rickey gave her a confident nod, sure he could talk me around.
But as soon as Lucy and the kids were out the door, I didn't hesitate—I flung the pre-drafted divorce papers straight at him.
That was when his face drained of color. "Have you lost your mind? At our age, you're seriously pulling the divorce card as a bluff?"
"Divorce is freedom for us both. Spare me the nonsense—just sign."
Rickey skimmed the agreement and sneered, "Fifty-fifty split? Dream on. I've got two kids to provide for. You're flying solo and worry-free—why so damn greedy?"
"Greedy? Rickey, be honest—who built that company from scratch? What did you even bring to the table? Your kids are your problem, not mine. Did I force you to have them?"
They said you saw someone's true colors during a breakup, and I was getting a front-row seat.
I'd gifted him a thriving business on a silver platter, and after lounging in the CEO chair for a few years, he'd gotten so full of himself he couldn't see straight.