Besties‘ Divorce In Ancient Times
I spent the night away, returning to the Spencer Manor at dawn to confront Gawain. Without a word, I flung divorce papers at his feet.
His eyes scanned the documents, and his anger flared up like a brushfire.
“Divorce? Can you quit playing the drama queen? You deceived me about being pregnant and spun tales to my brother about a miscarriage. You and Elena are always spinning webs of lies! You’re aware of how Rosamund staked her cherished monkey on my victory. If I didn’t win, her monkey would be butchered, its brains eaten. Would that thrill you, the end of two lives? I merely asked you to accompany me in a horse race. Your reluctance forced me to tie you to the horse. As my wife, you show me no trust. Rosamund was willing to gamble for me, even wagering her pet monkey, who had been her faithful companion for seven years. What about you?”
Listening to his furious tirade, I felt only the bite of irony.
Yesterday was my birthday, and Gawain had promised to celebrate with me.
To my surprise, his idea of a celebration was a horse racing competition, with his puppy love, Rosamund, also in attendance.
His friends, catching sight of the monkey in Rosamund’s arms, began their taunts, craving monkey brains.
Without hesitation, Rosamund wagered her monkey in the bet.
I was baffled by her willingness to put it on the line, especially since the monkey was more than just a pet; it had been her partner in performance, joining her in the hustle for tips on the streets for seven enduring years.
Concerned for the child in my womb, coupled with my detesting the idea of engaging in such a brutal bet, I declined to mount the horse. Gawain was
furious.
I confessed my pregnancy, but he dismissed it as a lie, binding me to the horse.
During the race, he spurred the horse to a dizzying pace, leaving my stomach twisted in knots of pain.
Fearing for my unborn child, I pleaded with him to stop, to let me dismount.
He shot back icily, “Liar! Keep up the act! Isn’t this just because you want the monkey to lose its life? Remember, a monkey’s life matters too, so cut out this ridiculous drama. Rosamund has put in a lot of effort to make your birthday special. No matter how much you protest, I won’t disappoint her.”
With that, he lashed the horse with renewed vigor.
The wind howled, slicing through my skin, as if it would pierce my very heart.
Gawain, so eager to go to lengths for his childhood sweetheart’s monkey, showed no regard for the lives of his wife and unborn child.
Could there be a more profound betrayal?
Gawain won the race as he had hoped, saving the monkey.
As I dismounted, the pain drained the color from my face, my legs buckling beneath me. I knelt on the ground, retching.
Rosamund, feigning distress, asked Gawain, “Gawain, didn’t you say your wife was too bold? Was her act of vomiting intentional, meant to make me feel guilty?”
Gawain believed I was only feigning discomfort to set Rosamund up.
In a fit of rage and humiliation, he cast me aside on the racecourse, departing with Rosamund and her monkey.
Left there, I felt my stomach clench in pain, my lower body turning into a river of blood.
I thought I would die in that spot until Elena, three months pregnant herself, discovered me.
I had been absent all night, yet Gawain spared no glance for my pallid face and frail body, his concern solely for his wronged puppy love.
Before me, Gawain furiously continued his accusations.
“I warn you for the last time, do not incite Elena and my brother to cause trouble again. If you continue to stir up discord in this house, I will not show
mercy.”
Elena, her face as pale as mine, mustered a strong spirit to mock him, “General Spencer, why do you show some mercy? Isn’t causing her miscarriage enough? Must you also take her life to be satisfied?”
Gawain fell silent for a moment before retorting sarcastically, “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? Look at her. Your miscarriage feels more real than she ever did.”
With those words, he stormed away, his strides as swift as the wind, disappearing into the ether in mere moments.
Trembling, I was so incensed by Gawain that tears brimmed in my eyes.
Elena, gritting her teeth in anger, said, “Madeline, pay no heed to that bast**d Gawain. Let me help you back to your room.”
I smiled bitterly and shook my head, “I’m sorry. It’s on me that you’re stuck in this mess. Had it not been for saving me, you wouldn’t have suffered a miscarriage.
Not only had I lost my child yesterday, but so had she.
She offered a sorrowful smile, about to speak, when the renowned physician Edmund approached with fury in his steps. “Elena, you’re becoming increasingly unreasonable. I was just trying to give Rosamund a hand with the baby monkey delivery, and what do I get? Yet, you continue this endless tirade. You goaded Madeline into lying about her miscarriage, stirring up all this trouble. Is that really how a lady speaks? I’ve said it time and again, there’s nothing between Rosamund and me. I merely enjoy watching her monkey performing. It’s preposterous how much trouble you’ve stirred up. Don’t you `dare think that sending me a divorce letter is going to manipulate or scare me! You’re just like Madeline, thriving on chaos. If you want a divorce, then fine,
D
11:42 AM
I agree! As if I’d ever beg you to stay.”
Without giving Elena a chance to respond, he departed, his steps heavy with anger.
Elena’s face turned ashen, and her crystal–clear tears fell to the ground, merging into small puddles.
I gently squeezed her hand, feebly speaking, “Elena, let’s pack our bags and leave. There’s no place for us in this house anymore.”
Elena nodded, choking out, “I’ve been so sad for losing my child.”
She leaned against me, weak, unable to hold back her wails.
The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over.
We clung to each other, crying together. A cocktail of anger, sadness, and despair, emotions we had long kept under wraps, was finally unleashed.
Elena and I had once felt blessed to have traversed time and space to find our beloved.
But six months ago, the arrival of Rosamund shattered our illusion of happiness.
Edmund started hanging around the street where Rosamund put on her shows, seldom making his way back home.
Gawain made no secret of his support for Rosamund, which sparked a wildfire of rumors and gossip about their supposed affair all over the city.
Elena and I came to the harsh realization, far too late, that we were nothing more than trophy wives to the Spencer brothers, while their true affections were reserved for Rosamund.
The profound care we believed they had for us was nothing but a charade to fool their father, Steven Spencer.
Steven, tethered to his principles, found the idea of a street performer marrying into his distinguished family completely unacceptable, particularly since his son served as a general.
Moreover, the scandal of his two sons competing for the same woman was nothing short of disgraceful.
Half a year ago, shortly after Steven’s burial, Rosamund arrived at our manor with her monkey.
It was ludicrous how the Spencer brothers kept us entirely in the dark.
They spent fortunes on gold hairpins for her, punished bullies for her sake, shielded her from the storms, and protected her in every possible way.
Yet, Elena and I were kept in the dark, unwittingly becoming the laughingstock of the entire city.
The love we thought we possessed never existed.
It was all a dazzling mirage.
Sadly, it took the loss of two lives to awaken us.
