Mr. Burns Is Killing His Wife novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Divorce Hamish

Elisa staggered back, the ten-minute walk took her twenty minutes. The villa had no heating, the huge room was deathly cold.

Elisa kicked off her high heels, stumbling drunkenly into the bathroom. She turned on the hot water in the bathtub, halfway full, the resolute person a moment ago now lifeless like a corpse in the tub. The hot water spread, the person silent and motionless, the large red dress covered the entire bathtub, like a glaring blood water, making Elisa's face as white as rice paper.

She closed her eyes, her face sinking into the water. The water gradually overflowed over her head, sealing off all senses. The brief suffocation numbed her heart. After a while, she couldn't help but open her mouth, hot water entered her mouth, and a wave of nausea rushed up from her stomach.

Elisa opened her bloodshot eyes from the water and poked her head out. She lay on the bathtub, her body crawling and hanging. Her stomach felt like there was a hand tearing and scratching. Numbly she opened her mouth, her upper body convulsing uncontrollably. Not having eaten all day, what she threw up was yellow acidic water that burned her throat, even bringing tears to her eyes.

After throwing up to the end, Elisa rubbed her sore eyes and looked at the mucus on the ground mixed with blood water. The corner of her mouth ticked up slightly, a smile not reaching her eyes, the pupils filled with lifeless desolation.

She took off her red dress and used it to wipe the blood stains on the ground. She couldn't let Hamish see the blood.

Outside, the sky gradually darkened. Elisa walked barefoot back to the bedroom and dove into bed head first. She couldn't sleep, not knowing she could still fantasize about a hopeful future when she first got sick. Now, no matter how hard she tried, it was just a futile struggle.

Four years, she had given herself away in four years, from being full of affection to now boundless despair.

Today, it seemed she had used up all her tears for this lifetime. Elisa put her hand over her heart, bitterly mocking herself: Clearly it's your stomach that's bad, what are you hurting for?

The phone in her bag suddenly vibrated. Elisa reflexively propped herself up, taking the phone out of her bag at top speed. When she saw the caller ID on the screen, she seemed to have lost all her strength.

It wasn't him. Elisa, what are you still hoping for?

Elisa stared blankly at her phone for two seconds before stiffly swiping up to answer the call.

"Micah." Elisa's voice was very hoarse, like the edge of a blade scraping over a whetstone, somewhat grating.

Micah Baker was her childhood friend who grew up together, not family yet closer than family. For a long time when she was little she lived at the Baker residence. To Elisa, Micah was like her brother.

On the phone, Micah asked worriedly, "Elisa, why is your voice so hoarse? Are you sick?"

"A little cold, just woke up from a nap and my voice is hoarse,"

Before Elisa could finish, Micah interrupted her on the phone, "Elisa, are you trying to lie even to me? Have you forgotten I'm a doctor? I can still tell the difference between a just woken up voice and one that's been crying."

She choked up, like there was a sharp rock stuck in her throat, grinding it bloody and raw, couldn't spit it out nor swallow it down. She couldn't get out a single word of explanation, only letting out a bitter laugh in the end.

Micah asked, "Elisa, can you tell me why you were crying?"

Elisa held her phone, staring at the wooden floor. No one liked to reveal their weakest spots. She shook her head in refusal, "Can't."

Micah was taken aback. He knew what kind of personality Elisa had. To put it nicely she was strong-willed, to put it bluntly she was stubborn as an ox. If she didn't want to say it, even an iron clamp couldn't pry it out of her.

Micah could only change the subject, "Did you go get your physical exam results from the hospital today?"

Elisa pursed her chapped lips, "Pretty good."