Genevieve's Point of View

"And what is that supposed to mean? You think divorce is a word you should be throwing around?" Fred's eyes narrowed, anger brewing in them. "It hasn't gotten to divorce yet."

My mouth fell open as I watched him in dismay. It hasn't come to divorce... Am I supposed to die before he takes me seriously?

"Listen to me, Genevieve, I don't have time for your shenanigans. I have guests waiting for me outside!" Then he stormed out, leaving me to wallow in my thoughts.

Why does he always walk out when there's a serious discussion? Why won't he just calm down and listen to what I have to say for once?

My eyes moved to the box containing my dead cat, and uncontrollable tears flowed down my face. My only friend was gone forever.

I didn't go out of my room, and I couldn't sleep throughout the night. I held my father's photo, staring at it with a sad smile as my mind wandered. Would things be any different if my father was alive? Would I be leading a better life than this?

The chirping of birds outside my window made me realize it was morning.

I picked myself up, getting ready to go bury my cat, when my phone beeped and I saw a message from my mom: "Come over. We need to talk!" the text read.

As if I had been expecting her text, I bolted into the bathroom to brush my teeth before leaving.

*******

It wasn't long before I made it to my stepfather's home. My mother was talking to a man at the door, and she smiled warmly when she saw me, but I was too sad to return her smile.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Park," she said to the man, then faced me. "Let's talk inside."

My mother and I made ourselves comfortable on sofas next to each other, and she held my hand comfortingly.

"Fred called me this morning. He told me about what transpired between you and Kelvin yesterday," she said.

I sighed mentally. Of course, he's always the first to call Mom in situations like this.

"You see, Kelvin is just a kid who grew up without a mother. It's normal for him to be stubborn and a bit hard to handle..."

"He didn't grow up without a mother," I interrupted her quietly. "I played the role of a mother to him. Most kids in his situation aren't as fortunate as him."

"I understand you, Genevieve. But you can't just walk away now. Think about the years you've spent with them, think about the years you've been family."

I laughed briefly. "Family... They've never seen me as part of their family, and I don't want to keep forcing myself on them anymore."

"Genevieve, you—"

"Mom, family was you, Dad, and me. We were happy, and that is family." My eyes watered as I recalled how happy I was when my father was alive.

Her expression softened when she saw my teary eyes. "Do you really want to walk away from this?" she asked.

I thought about my stepsister. She was good to me; she treated me like a biological sister. I would have stayed because of her, but her son and husband wouldn't accept me no matter how hard I tried.

I've tried my best, I've given my everything, and I believe she won't blame me for leaving at this point. It's time I lived for myself.

"My mind is made up, Mom. I want a divorce," I said, my voice firm and confident.

Mom sighed deeply. She looked like she wanted to persuade me to stay, but she was out of words... I guess.

"Here." She dropped a file on my lap.

My eyes lit up when I saw Divorce Agreement boldly written at the top. I couldn't hold back my joy as I broke into a bright smile.

I'll no longer be Mrs. Einstein after signing this document. I'll no longer try to please anyone or make them love and accept me. I'll be Miss Genevieve Albrecht. I'll be free to live for myself and do the things I love.

I signed the document without hesitation and joyfully left.

*******

It was already dark by the time I got home—just 7:30 p.m., though. I searched for my keys in my bag but couldn't find them. Then I remembered I had forgotten to take them with me.

Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, Kelvin came out. He was smiling, playing a game on his phone, but his expression turned into a detestable scorn as soon as he saw me.

"Wow! Let's give a standing ovation. The murderer finally knew to come home," he said, mockery embedded in his words. "We thought karma had finally visited you, and you'd been struck dead by thunder!" he spat.

In response, a loud thunderclap sounded, and a strong wind began to blow, indicating it was going to rain in a minute.

"Kelvin, open the—" My words stuck in my mouth when a lady's voice spoke from inside.

"Who are you talking to, Kelvin?"

"Frieda Lawrence," I whispered as she walked towards Kelvin and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She raised her head and saw me, then smiled slyly.

"Oh, you came right on time. Fred is looking for you to prepare dinner." She faced Kelvin. "Come on, buddy, let's go." And they left.

Then came the heavy downpour—the heavy rain.

Genevieve's Point of View

My heart broke as I watched them leave. What a life. He'd rather choose a woman he's not familiar with over me because he thinks I killed his mother.

Since there was no way I could enter the house, I decided to go spend the night at my friend's. But just as I turned to leave, the door pushed open, and the housekeeper came to me.

"Mrs. Einstein, why didn't you come in? The door wasn't locked," she said.

My mouth fell open in surprise. "What?" I guess it's my fault for not trying to push it first.

"Come in, it's cold outside." She showed me in.

I'm drenched by now, very cold, and my legs could hardly move, but I dragged myself inside.

My eyes zeroed in on Fred, who caged Frieda against a wall as they kissed and romanced themselves. Kelvin, on the other hand, was playing a video game.

I ignored them and began dragging myself upstairs, but Fred's angry voice stopped me.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"To my room," I answered.

"Is that the first place you should be? Shouldn't you be in the kitchen cooking dinner for us?"

"Order takeouts," I said, heading towards my room, but I was yanked back before I could make it.

"Do you want to get my son killed? Have you forgotten that you're the only one who can cook Kevin's food? You know he's a very picky eater!"

I raised my brows. "Well, since you know he's a picky eater, why don't you get your lady friend to study his diet and learn how to cook foods that would suit his taste?" My expression turned cold. "I've signed the divorce papers; we'll be legally separated soon."

His nostrils flared in anger immediately after I said those words, and he delivered a slap to my face.

"It seems like I've been too lenient with you. I have told you, you can't just get up and think you can divorce me!" he narrowed his eyes. "You know how much I hate the word 'divorce.' If you provoke me too much, I'd fulfill your wish and get the divorce!"

"Please do," I gulped. "The divorce papers will be delivered tomorrow. I've signed my part; please sign yours too."

His anger grew as he stared at me, but I didn't care. I'd had enough.

Kelvin, who's been playing video games, rushed towards us with a satisfied smile.

"Really? You've signed the divorce papers? Does it mean you're leaving our house tonight?" Excitement coated his words.

"Oh no, Kelvin, you shouldn't say that. Your mother loves your father, and saying these things would hurt her," Frieda chipped in, pretending to be a peacemaker, but I saw the joy on her face.

"She's not my mother, and she'll never be!" he looked me in the eyes. "You're not qualified to be my mother!"

"Good, because I don't want to be anymore," I replied.

Fred couldn't take it anymore; he wrapped his hand around my neck tightly and looked me in the eyes.

"Listen and listen good, I'm not signing any divorce papers tomorrow. I'll set them ablaze once I get my hands on them," he pushed me onto the ground. "Now, go cook dinner or face the consequences!"

I coughed as I gasped for air. "Fred, I'm done being a slave to you and your son! I'm not cooking any dinner," I managed to say.

He kicked me in the stomach. "Are you going to cook or not?"

I smiled weakly. "Over my dead body would I cook..."

"Have it your way, then!" he interrupted me. "Reuben, Felix!" he called his men.

Two of his men rushed forward and bowed before him.

"Drag her to the cold room and lock her up! Don't let her out until she's dead!" he ordered.

Without wasting time, the men rushed to me, grabbed my arms, and began dragging me away. Kelvin and Frieda snickered as I was being dragged away.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I struggled as I tried to get away from them, but who am I kidding? They are ten times stronger than me.

No matter how hard I fought against them, they wouldn't budge. I was thrown into the cold room, and before I could gain balance, they'd locked the door and left. It's just me, the cold room, and darkness.

It's only seconds, but it felt like I'd been here for days as my whole body began to shake from the intense cold.

I'm too weak to speak or beg for help. I simply slumped down against the door and waited for my death.

Just when I was about to give up hope, I heard a commotion outside. Desperate for someone to save me, I began banging on the door with all my might.

Soon, the door opened, and I saw a man in a well-tailored suit standing in front of the door. I was barely keeping my eyes open; hence, I didn't take in his appearance.

"I told you, Mr. Enzo, she's just a maid," I heard Fred say to the man.

I shook my head in disagreement since I couldn't speak, but the man wasn't looking my way anymore.

Just when he was about to leave, he paused, whipped his head back to me, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Genevieve?" he called my name softly.

I wanted to ask him how he knew my name, but it came out as a whimper.

His eyes suddenly darkened as he heard me whimper. "How dare you hurt my wife?!" he growled angrily.

Huh? His wife? When did we get married?