The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 63

Josh’s Pov

I struggled to get my tie off my dumb neck which seemed like it was smothering me, as I left the room full of shocked people, following my wife from behind. I clutched it fiercely, attempting to free it, but it felt cemented to my neck.

I began suffocating because all I did was tighten it around my neck, depriving myself of oxygen. Jessica, who was furiously walking in front of me, came to a halt and turned, yelling, “You’re killing yourself!” as she took my hands off my neck and rapidly undid the tie.

I dashed to the corner of the parking lot and puked my guts out. My guts felt like they were on fire and about to come out of my mouth.

As I held on, my eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. My wife who was just seconds away from me was nowhere near. I only heard her inquire whether I was all right from a distance.

I raised my hand and wiped any vomit that had accumulated on my dry cracked lips. I was exhausted, my heart was beating fast, and the silly weight I had gained was only exacerbating the situation.

I needed to sit down because I was dizzy from all the vomiting and, more significantly, from the sh*t that was just slapped in my face.

“What are you up to?” Jessica screamed at me? “Get up right now! Get up!” she yelled repeatedly. Her tone was so unpleasant, and she was simply adding to my misery.

“Shut your f**king mouth!” I yelled at her and clutched my splitting skull which felt to be slamming into my skull.

“What are you thinking, people are going to start watching us, this is so pitiful,” she exclaimed. Because I had puked, the miss-perfect couldn’t even stand centimeters away from me.

I chose to ignore her because I already had enough on my plate, and having people watching me sit in my vomit was the last thing on my mind. Thalia was rich, far more than I was or ever will be even if I lived two lives.

While I languished in near poverty, the girl I had sacrificed many years to destroy was bathing in wealth. And, to make matters worse, she was expecting a child while I was without an heir.

My blood boiled thinking about that injustice. Why was fate so cruel to me? I understand the need for her to come out of the sh*t victorious but why was it at my expense?

I sobbed uncontrollably and laughed so loudly that I drew the attention of numerous others. Someone up there clearly despised me, which was amusing in a way, or was I paying for my ancestor’s crimes.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’ll leave you in this filthy car park!” Jessica cautioned me, but I didn’t mind; she was free to leave at any time. She was, after all, the one who couldn’t conceive.

A car stopped over and the door opened, to my surprise it was my father who stepped out angrily. “Get your stup*d a*s into the car!” He screamed loudly.

“Thank G*d you’ve arrived, Victor,” Jessica tried to downplay the situation.

“Get your a*s into the stup*d car and shut up!” He screamed at her, instead. I was on the verge of laughing uncontrollably. He approached me and dragged my pathetic a*s into the car.

He was completely enraged. I had no idea how he discovered we were attending the event. Oh, I forgot, my non-pregnant wife might have informed him, something about the two of them being best friends or something.