My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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The moment I turned on my phone in the car, it exploded with notifications - missed calls, texts, everything flooding in at once. The damn thing kept vibrating nonstop for what felt like forever.
My brother shot me a sideways glance from the driver's seat, his face darkening. "That little shit still won't quit, huh?"
I took a steadying breath. "Don't worry about it. I've got this."
Instead of answering, I silenced my phone and focused on catching up with my brother. Eventually, exhaustion won out and I dozed off against the window.
It wasn't until we reached my brother's place and I was alone in the guest room that I finally picked up the relentless calls from that unknown number. The moment I answered, the verbal assault began.
"Rachel, you think you can just walk away after the mess you've made?" Mark's voice was pure venom. "Got some nerve blocking me, ignoring calls and texts, huh? You destroy Olivia like this and expect someone else to clean up your mess?"
I could hear Olivia's dramatic sobs in the background. "Mark, don't be mad at Rachel," she gasped between fake tears. "She's just struggling to accept things. This is all my fault - I'm not even half as capable as Rachel. I've failed you..."
Her self-flagellation only fueled Mark's misplaced anger. "Listen carefully, Rachel," he snarled. "You've got one hour to get your ass back here, apologize to Olivia in front of the entire company, and explain your dirty tricks!"
I actually laughed at their little performance. "Let me get this straight, Mark. We're divorced. I've resigned. I handed everything over to Olivia. Exactly what authority do you think you have over me now? An industry blacklist? Please - you're not some corporate god who can snap his fingers and ruin careers."
The line went silent for a beat before he started spluttering. "Even if you quit, you sabotaged the handover! I have every right—"
"Check the security footage, Mark," I cut him off, my patience gone. "Use that pea-sized brain of yours for once. And tell Olivia that instead of playing these pathetic games, she should work on actually being competent at her job. If she can't manage that, the garbage dump's always hiring."
I ended the call and blocked the number. Might as well clean house completely - I deleted every photo, every message, every damn video. Over 30,000 files documenting Mark's life, clogging up my phone... and my heart.
As the "Cleanup Complete" notification appeared, my phone ran smoother than it had in years. Funny how that worked. The emptiness in my chest? That would take longer to fix.
My brother shot me a sideways glance from the driver's seat, his face darkening. "That little shit still won't quit, huh?"
I took a steadying breath. "Don't worry about it. I've got this."
Instead of answering, I silenced my phone and focused on catching up with my brother. Eventually, exhaustion won out and I dozed off against the window.
It wasn't until we reached my brother's place and I was alone in the guest room that I finally picked up the relentless calls from that unknown number. The moment I answered, the verbal assault began.
"Rachel, you think you can just walk away after the mess you've made?" Mark's voice was pure venom. "Got some nerve blocking me, ignoring calls and texts, huh? You destroy Olivia like this and expect someone else to clean up your mess?"
I could hear Olivia's dramatic sobs in the background. "Mark, don't be mad at Rachel," she gasped between fake tears. "She's just struggling to accept things. This is all my fault - I'm not even half as capable as Rachel. I've failed you..."
Her self-flagellation only fueled Mark's misplaced anger. "Listen carefully, Rachel," he snarled. "You've got one hour to get your ass back here, apologize to Olivia in front of the entire company, and explain your dirty tricks!"
I actually laughed at their little performance. "Let me get this straight, Mark. We're divorced. I've resigned. I handed everything over to Olivia. Exactly what authority do you think you have over me now? An industry blacklist? Please - you're not some corporate god who can snap his fingers and ruin careers."
The line went silent for a beat before he started spluttering. "Even if you quit, you sabotaged the handover! I have every right—"
"Check the security footage, Mark," I cut him off, my patience gone. "Use that pea-sized brain of yours for once. And tell Olivia that instead of playing these pathetic games, she should work on actually being competent at her job. If she can't manage that, the garbage dump's always hiring."
I ended the call and blocked the number. Might as well clean house completely - I deleted every photo, every message, every damn video. Over 30,000 files documenting Mark's life, clogging up my phone... and my heart.
As the "Cleanup Complete" notification appeared, my phone ran smoother than it had in years. Funny how that worked. The emptiness in my chest? That would take longer to fix.
End of My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to My Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me in the ER book page.