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Valeria
"What did you do with allourmoney?" I yelled, furious.
The bank called me today to announce that our account was empty and our credit cards were overdrawn. I requested information about our savings account and found out it never existed.
Three years ago, Chester persuaded me to invest our savings into some business, and today, the woman on the phone told me our money had never been placed in their account. My idiotic husband most likely lost everything in the casino. And he didn't care that our daughter started her second year at school, that we had to pay the mortgage or for the car. All that was on his mind was gambling.
"Leave me alone, Valeria. I have a headache from your constant shrieking," he groaned, turning his back on me, I grabbed his elbow, halting his movements. He shot me a nasty glare, his longer nut-brown hair falling into his eyes as his lips twitched into a grimace.
"I demand an explanation!" I felt blood rushing through my veins impossibly fast, and my head felt like it could have exploded. Still, I refused to back down. He lied to me for years.
"I said, leave me alone!" he roared, yanking his arm from my grasp. He pushed me to the side, and I hit a shelve with my shoulder, but I ignored the pain. I was at the end of my strength and patience with this man. This was the last drop.
"Zara's birthday is on Saturday," I pointed out, stomping through the hall behind him. "How are you planning to pay for it?"
"You wanted a child," he snapped, abruptly turning around so I almost bumped into his chest. "Now, take care of her!"
He slammed the bedroom door, locking it to end the argument.
His words cut deeply, but I refused to acknowledge he didn't love our little girl. But in my eyes, he just reached the absolute bottom, and I couldn't find any excuse to continue in this charade.
After he made a lousy investment five years ago, his business and our marriage went downhill. I tried to save the pieces of the man I once loved and respected, but he made it perfectly clear he didn't care for us. He spent the nights out with his buddies, playing cards, while I did everything possible to prevent our family from splitting. Yet I was tired, so fucking tired of all the bullshit he said and did.
Overcoming the urge to take an axe and break the door down, I took my jacket and left the apartment. In the elevator, I gaped mindlessly at my reflection in the mirror, pushing back the tears. He wasn't worth my perfect makeup.
I had a night shift in the casino, where I worked as a manager. Zara was at her grandparents’ house because I didn't want her to witness another argument. And because her “amazing” father left her alone last time when he should have been with her; instead, I called my mother-in-law. She knew her son was an irresponsible bastard, and she always helped me. At least I had her on my side.
The annoyingly loud elevator bell stirred me from my thoughts, and I checked my appearance for the last time. I wore a royal blue dress with a V-neckline and long sleeves, which they considered a uniform. It ended above my knees, and I couldn’t help but notice my legs looked stunning in the dress with high heels.
In the past few months, I lost weight so rapidly that all of my clothes were too big for me. The situation with my husband had started to affect my health, but I was well aware of my responsibility toward my daughter. I couldn't end up in the hospital and leave her with her idiotic father. I had to gather myself and find the courage to file for divorce. It was the best thing I could do for all three of us.
I walked through the back entrance of the casino precisely five minutes before six. I left my purse in the dressing room and took a deep breath. Another twelve hours of pretending were in front of me.
"Hello," I greeted when I entered the staff room, plastering on a fake smile. Only two of my colleagues were there, packing their things to head home.
"Goodbye." Tony, an almost sixty-year-old man with grey hair and soft blue eyes, waved at me, Richard quickly following him. His wife gave birth to twins three months back, and he always ran home to help her with everything. They had a fantastic relationship, and I sighed heavily when I unintentionally compared it with my destroyed marriage.
"You look like shit," the familiar female voice of my best friend, Alice, spoke from behind me, and I rolled my eyes.
"You didn't even see my face," I objected weakly, turning on the coffee machine. We should've already been outside, but I desperately needed my dose of caffeine.
"Your shoulders are slumped, and your hair is up. That's enough for me to know it was another argument with Chester," she pointed out.
I turned around, watching her as she zipped her dress. She was short and curvy—my exact opposite—but with such charisma that she overshone everyone. Her curly brown hair was flying all over her cute face, and the look was absolutely perfect when she placed glasses in a thick black frame on her nose.
"He lied to me about the money," I admitted quietly, handing her a mug of steamy concoction. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she pressed her full brown lips into a line.
"Again?" she whined, setting the cup down and sitting on the old black leather couch. I plopped down beside her, almost spilling the hot coffee on myself.
"For three years, every month, he took a thousand dollars to place it in our savings account," I explained, using the burning wall of a mug to ease the pain and disappointment in my soul. "Today, I found out there is no account." I gulped, clenching my teeth together to stop myself from crying. "And he also took all the money from our other accounts. I'm officially broke."
"Jesus Christ," Alice whispered, and I inhaled a deep breath. I was glad I had someone to talk to; otherwise, I would've lost my mind. Years of my work ended up in slot machines, not to mention my daughter's birthday party would probably never happen.
"What did he say?" she asked, and I snorted, wiping a lone tear that escaped my eye.
"That he's tired of my shrieking," I whispered, my cheeks turning red.