Chapter 7 Thick-Skinned

Calvin never let anyone casually touch his phone, yet this was the second time. The police had called him, and Emily had answered. It was the same when I called him now. "If there isn't anything else, I'm hanging up. We're really busy." Emily emphasized the word "we" as if I didn't know they were together. "Have him call me back after he's done showering." My voice trembled from pain, and my weakness seemed to delight her. Emily's tone grew even more cheerful. "He'll be busy after his shower, so he doesn't have time to call you. Tell me whatever you need to say. It's the same thing." I couldn't help but smirk. Emily had overestimated herself, but I wasn't in the mood to argue. "Emily, the money you're spending in Savile is from our shared marital assets. Your intimate photos with him are evidence of infidelity during marriage. Would you have to pay that money back if I took legal action?" It seemed I'd hit a nerve as her voice grew shrill. "Summer, don't push your luck! You're just an old, washed-up, ugly woman. Do you think Calvin still loves you? Dream on. "All you ever talk about is money. You're greedy and selfish. Calvin regrets marrying you every day. "If you want money, keep dreaming. You could starve or die of illness or poverty, and he wouldn't give you a second glance!" The line went dead with a cold click. I stared at the darkened screen and exhaled a long breath. Maybe I didn't want to live that much after all. Otherwise, I would have begged, wouldn't I? "Summer? Summer!" The drapes separating the hospital beds were suddenly yanked open. Queenie Myer stood there with disbelief written all over her face. "What are you doing here? Did you… have surgery? What's going on? You relapsed? Didn't they say it wasn't easy for the cancer to relapse after surgery?" She fired question after question, none of which I had the energy to answer. Only after she wore herself out did I finally ask, "What are you doing here?" She pointed to the elderly woman in the next bed. "That's my grandma. I rushed here straight from the airport. What happened to you? Why didn't you tell me you were sick again? "Where's Calvin? Was that his mistress on the phone just now? He's become that shameless now?" The room fell into an awkward silence. I knew the others in the ward had heard our conversation too, but what could I do? With my current condition, I was stuck in the hospital. Queenie grew mad at seeing me remain quiet. "Why didn't you call me? How could you manage all this by yourself?" I gently took her hand. My eyes misted over. Queenie was my best friend and had also been my roommate in college. When I'd found out I'd relapsed, I'd thought about contacting her. But at that time, she'd been preparing for an important international competition, and I hadn't wanted to distract her. I forced what I assumed to be the perfect smile. "See? The surgery was a success." She lightly pinched my cheek. "You look awful. If you don't want to smile, then don't. Where's Calvin? He didn't even come for your surgery? What a jerk. If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have suffered so much. And now he's…" I'd heard these words more times than I could count. I quickly tugged on her sleeve to change the subject. "I'm glad you're here. I need your help with something." I reached for my ears and took off my earrings, followed by the ring on my finger. Then, I gestured to my bag nearby. "Help me put everything in a bag, including the purse and jewelry. I want to sell them." "The bag cost 70 thousand dollars when I bought it. Find me a reliable buyer. The ring and earrings probably aren't worth much." My hand instinctively reached for the pendant around my neck, but I couldn't bring myself to take it off. Calvin might not care about me now, but he had been the light of my life back then. Still, I knew one thing. I needed money and a lot of it. But I wouldn't call Calvin for help again. I had to figure it out on my own. The surgery had gone well, but I would still need money for injections and chemotherapy. I'd decided to sell the jewelry at home even if it meant getting a divorce. After all, those were my personal items. And if worst came to worst, I'd wreck the jewelry cabinet. Calvin could go ahead and call the police. I'd done my research. I wouldn't end up in jail for family disputes like this. Queenie frowned deeply and finally shoved the ring back into my hand. "I have money. Use mine." I shook my hand and stubbornly pushed the ring back to her. "These were gifts from Calvin. I don't want them anymore. Just help me sell them." I tugged on her arm and pleaded, "Please." Queenie opened her mouth to say something, but in the end, she stayed silent and turned to help me pack my things. She was quick. By the afternoon, she returned with the money. "It sold for 50 thousand dollars. If that's not enough, I'll think of something else." She transferred the money to me and avoided my gaze. I knew that most of this money had probably come from her pocket. I didn't call her out on it, but I made a mental note to gift her two of the most expensive bags from my collection once I cracked open that display case. I was wondering which bag she might like when Calvin's call came in. The moment I answered, his furious voice exploded through the phone. "Summer, you don't even go to work anymore, and you still want money! You're so thick-skinned!"