Who Murdered The Night?|✔️

Chapter Eleven

A fork of lightning flashed in the distance. Knowing what was coming, I gripped the steering tight till my palms ached. The apoplectic growl of thunder rumbled very loud, making me shiver and step harder on the gas.

I hated thunder. I hated rain. I hated the season. It was always filled with memories and longing for something. Something, sometimes you don't even know. Especially when you are alone. I hated the smell rain brought with it.

I rounded the bend that led to my house. My comfort zone, except it no longer bare the comfort I desired. Tears stinged the back of my eyes but I held it back. I had done enough.

I drove into my driveway and killed the engine. I turned to get my umbrella from the back seat, grabbing my bag with it. I opened the car door and opened the umbrella before I stepped out. I walked briskly to the door and caught a glimpse of the woman next building waving from her window. I nodded and smiled before I got to my door.

I unlocked it and the eerie silence welcomed me, reminding me how lonely I was.

I dropped my bag and headed to the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it in seconds. My phone notified me of a message.

Ugh...just when I was planning to get a good night's rest?

Another thunder rumbled very loud and my breath hitched when I saw the message, making me wonder which made my breath hitch, the thunder or the content of the message.

It was from Mark.

"Hey there, you good? I'm just checking up, take care."

That was it? Short. Simple. Casual. Stupid. Just like the sender.

The effrontery. I did not want to remember what he did that led to the divorce.

Running off with another woman, a woman I did not want to remember. Losing our daughter when it was his fault, leaving when I needed him the most, and then showing up two years later, stupidly asking if I was good.

Screw you, Mark. I'm doing so much better without you. Well, maybe that was a lie. A part of me missed him so much, he was my best friend. The other part of me wanted to kick the betraying part in the butt.

Don't ever check up on me, cos you certainly do not care. I would have screamed that at him if he were here. I would have punched him in the guts so hard, and maybe in his crotch too. Then he'll realize it was absolutely wrong to have slept with my cousin.

Last I heard, he was on vacation in Jamaica.

Was he alone? Maybe he was, or not. Why did I care? I rolled my eyes at the phone in contempt.

No, I wasn't stalking him. The little, mousy haired woman with a pixie cut like Tinkerbell that lives next door, and was shamelessly obsessed with my ex husband, masters his every move on Instagram. I'd swear the only thing on her to do list was to throw it in my face what I was missing. Those were her words.

The last time, she appeared at my doorstep with a pizza package in hand. It amused me that she brought pizza to gossip.

"When was the last time you got a tan?" She had asked out of the blue. I was thrown off guard and I searched for answers. Since when was it necessary to get a tan?

She did not wait for my answer and I guessed my confused face told it all.

"You need to see Mark's skin, you need to the lady in his arms right now. They are so beautifully tanned and I could swear she is waxed too. If you see her armpits." She swooned and pulled out her phone. I wondered if she was interested in Mark or the girl.

She extended the phone to me and I shook my head, bringing a cup of tea to my lips. She insisted and made me see the screen.

Holy moly, where was mother modesty gone? Has Mark got any shame? The girl was practically naked. I shifted in my chair so she'd get the phone out of my face.

I remembered her flipping her short mousy hair and fanning herself with her hands.

"Mark is so hot." She shamelessly said.

Now, why the hell was he checking up on me?

I found my way to my room and threw myself on the bed, Mark's accusation replaying in my head. "It's you. You are boring." He had stomped out of the house after that, leaving me with the little demons sneering at me from the back of the walls of my mind.

Was I boring? Camille confirmed it.

"It's just...you are boring, mum." She did not beat about the bush. How was I boring? Didn't I allow her to do whatever she wanted? Didn't I spend enough time with her? Didn't we go to the park and the bouncy house every Sunday? How? then, was I boring?

A ring jolted me awake. It was an unknown number. How long had I slept? I brought the phone to my ear.

"Hi, it's Gloria. Dad and Kendall are dropping the case."

Thanks for reading WHO MURDERED THE NIGHT? Please, consider voting and comment on this chapter.:-*