Chapter 7 Mother-and-Son Dispute

Madam Kelly had seen some horrible things in her life, but the sight she was greeted with upon opening the bedroom door still knocked the wind out of her. Tiffany was curled up in the corner like a frightened child, her once-lean body now nearly skin and bones. Her face was ghostly pale. Even her blonde hair had lost its shine. The moment she saw Madam Kelly, she strained to get up to greet her properly but fell to her knees the next moment. She was so weak from hunger, her vision swam. “Tiffany!” Madam Kelly immediately had her helper help the poor girl up. “What’s going on? What happened to her?” Tiffany hadn’t had a drop of water in a day. Her throat felt like sandpaper when she tried to speak, yet nothing came out. Monroe immediately brought a lukewarm glass of water to her lips. “Drink slowly, madam. You haven’t eaten anything for a day. I’ll have the kitchen prepare something light.” Madam Kelly frowned. “Did Mortimer lock her up and starve her?” Even she was outraged by her son’s actions. He went too far! Mortimer, however, only gave her a wry smirk. There was not even a hint of regret in his blue eyes when he saw how pitiful Tiffany looked. Rage overcame the older woman as she turned to yell at her son, “Have you no respect for the wife I chose for you? How could you do this to her?!” “You were the one who taught me about the consequences of our actions, Mother. Those who do wrong are punished. Why is she an exception?” Mortimer’s expression turned cruel. “As for respect, I’ve given her what’s due on your account. If she were anyone else, she would’ve lost a hand.” “You—” Madam Kelly could not think of anything to pick with Mortimer’s argument, so she asked, “Tiffany is a good child. She would never do anything on purpose to upset you. What mistake did she make?” Mortimer balled his hands into fists but said nothing. Madam Kelly didn’t press it. She knew what her son was like. “I can’t force you to love her, but I wish you would try to accept her, to spend time with her, even if it’s for show.” She became more animated as she spoke. It was as if some memory had stirred within her, causing a frenzy. Her tone had an edge of desperation in it when she continued, “I know what happened before hurt you deeply, but my greatest wish before I leave this world is to see you settle down with a wife and children, Mortimer. You are our family’s heir, responsible for carrying on our legacy. You have to, whether or not you want…" Before she could finish, her body began to sway unsteadily. The next second her legs had given out beneath her. Mortimer swiftly caught his mother before she hit the ground, ordering Monroe to quickly call an ambulance. She was still pleading with him not to go through with the divorce even while being carried into the vehicle. Mortimer gazed regretfully at the ambulance as it left for the hospital. He didn’t expect his mother to be this resolved about this arrangement, not to mention about that woman, Tiffany. It looked like the divorce had to be delayed since it meant risking his mother’s health and safety. It had to be done even if he despised having women around in his life. Tiffany had heard everything between the mother and son while taking some milk and bread. She felt guilty for having been one of the reasons her mother-in-law had become ill. “How is… Madam Kelly?” she asked Monroe. “The doctor said her condition’s stabilized. She’ll be alright.” Tiffany nodded resolutely. “Alright then. I’ll speak to her about the divorce when she’s discharged.” She had really given this a thought after being locked up for two days. Her life was more important than anything right now. Revenge came second. “That’s… to be discussed, madam. Why don’t you have some more to eat first?” Monroe replied hesitantly, pushing the glass of milk toward her. “No, I’m not staying in this hellish place any longer. I want a divorce as soon as possible!” Tiffany stepped out of her bed, ready to leave at any moment. “You want to leave that badly?” Mortimer’s airy tone floated from the doorway. He had heard every word she and Monroe had said just now. Tiffany felt a sense of guilt, but still, she had made her decision. “Yes. I don’t want to be your wife any more than you do!” Mortimer raised a brow. “You’re the first person I’ve seen to still have so much bite after doing something wrong.” “You were right about my mistake—I shouldn’t have used your computer. But I’ve paid my dues now thanks to you, so I don’t owe you anything else. Have your lawyer draft up the divorce papers. I’ll sign them.” They didn’t have any loose ends over money, nor did they have any feelings for one another. This divorce could be over within seconds, all that was needed was their signatures. But things were never that easy. Mortimer cocked his head. “Did I say I would agree to it?” “What? I thought you didn't want me around anymore?” “I don’t. But divorce isn’t on the table for the time being.” Though Mortimer seemed to be thinking about several other things, his tone was insistent and stern, leaving no room for dispute. “I decide when it’s over, not you. You just keep your mouth shut and stay put in the meantime.” “I’m not some toy you can do with as you like!” Tiffany cried, teeth chattering. How could Mortimer treat her like some dog at his beck and call? Hadn’t she been punished enough?! “Best not to test my patience, girl, or else.” Mortimer sneered. “Your mother lives on Redroof Way if I remember correctly?” It was obviously a threat. As pissed off as Tiffany was at the man, she couldn’t retaliate further. She shut Mortimer out of the room, locking the door and going to a corner to rethink her next move. As terrible as her situation currently was, Mortimer still seemed on the fence about not divorcing, and he wasn’t forcing her to do anything else either. Maybe he’d let her go when his mother recovered. The thought eased some of her worries, but they quickly returned when she remembered the child in her belly. After being starved and tortured the past few days, the fact that she had survived was a blessing enough. Her child… would need a miracle to have lived.