Wilmer's P.O.V.
Demetria Devonne Lovato.
Fuck. I’m holding a photo of that woman in my hands. Why does she have to bring so much pain into my life? I can’t look at her face any longer, so I throw the photo into the drawer. Fourteen sleepless nights because of her, because of the woman, who ruined my life and killed my child. Can it be worse?
I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. How long will it last? This is not the first time I suffer of love for her, but this time everything is different. I will never ever come back to a woman, who killed my child. I don’t need such a person in my life.
The phone starts ringing. I sigh and cover my face with my hands but phone doesn’t stop ringing. Groaning, I sit up and pick up the phone.
“Yes?” I say in serious voice. From when I became a person like this? From the day when she walked out of my life.
“Hello, Mr. Valderrama.” It’s my lawyer. What does he want right now? I have already missed two tributes of Elisabeth’s care, I thought after that he won’t call me again. “Mrs. Valderram-“
“She’s not Mrs. Valderrama.” I cut him off before he can finish.
“Sorry.” He apologizes, and then continues, “Ms. Lovato signed the divorce papers. You’re officially divorced. She left a letter for you. When can I give it to you?” He asks and I frown. A letter? What else has she to say?
“I don’t want to read that letter. Burn it.” I say simply and sigh.
“Are you sure?” He asks.
“I-“ Maybe I can read the letter. After all, it can’t cause more damage or pain. “I would like to have the letter as soon as possible.” Wow, how quickly I change my opinion.
“Sure.” He says. “I will send you a letter right now.” And then he hangs up.
I stand up from the bed and look around the place, which I used to call home. Everything is scattered, smashed. From the day, when the most perfect person walked out of my house and my life, I haven’t seen a reason to clean the mess. In fact, it’s the first day when I haven’t drunk anything. Without her, I have nothing.
The doorbell rings forcing me come back to reality. My lawyer is really fast. Quickly I walk down the stairs to open the door. When I open the door, my lawyer gasps. Do I really look that bad? Well, I blame alcohol and Demi.
Closing the door behind me, I open the letter. I wonder what she wrote there… After all, we have already said everything to each other. I sit down on the couch in the mess, which I used to call living room, and start reading.
Wilmer,
You may tear this letter but I think you should read it. Here you will find all the answers to all the questions.
