I want a divorce

"What's going on, Mia?" he asked.

Sheila ran beside her, putting a package on the cupboard beside her. "Is he bothering you, Mia? Let me know if he is."

Jack turned towards Sheila. "Are you referring to me?"

Sheila puffed out her chest and glared at him. "Of course, I am referring to you. I won't allow you to hurt my friend."

Jack looked back at Mia. "What is she talking about? What's going on? Can someone tell me what's going on?"

Sheila looked at Mia. "Mia, please excuse us."

"But…" She glared at Jack again.

"I know. He can't do anything. Just excuse us for a bit."

Sheila nodded and left the room. Mia stayed quiet, assessing Jack. He was seething and quiet. When he realized Mia wasn't going to speak first, he broke the silence.

"What's that all about, Mia?"

"I know the truth, Jack."

He frowned. "What truth? What are you talking about?"

"I know about you and Beth."

Jack stilled. He glanced towards the door before returning his eyes to Mia. She sat quietly watching him, refusing to tear up in his presence. A stubborn tear found its way to her cheek, and she wiped it away with her hand. "I know all about you and Beth, and you can't deny it, Jack."

He shook his head, surprising her with the famous words of every cheat. "It's not what you think, Mia. There is nothing going on between Beth and me."

Mia shook her head, the tear spreading out of its own will. "You must think me a fool, Jack. You think I wouldn't find out about you and my best friend. On our wedding anniversary Jack! On our wedding anniversary!"

He moved closer to her and raised his hand to wipe her tears.

"Don't you dare touch me, Jack. Don't you dare!"

"Mia, it's not what you think. You are mistaken. There is nothing between Beth and me. You are misinformed."

She chuckled. It was a strange sound coming from her. It didn't sound like her usual laughter, and it was hoarse. "You know what, Jack? I want a divorce."

....

Declan woke up with an aching head. He groaned and turned from his bed, picking up a shirt, he moved into his kitchen, to prepare a coffee. Last night's events flashed in his mind, and he winced as his headache worsened. Drinking alcohol had never been the solution to any problem.

He checked his fridge and picked one of the sidedishes his house help always left in the kitchen. He microwaved it, took some painkillers, and got ready for the day. His hand was on his belt when his phone rang. He picked it up immediately. "Stan, I hope you have good news for me this morning."

He heard shuffling at the other end of the phone, "I've found out who is selling our program to Bohan's."

Declan raised an eyebrow. This news was surely a good way to start the day. "Who is it that's trying to undermine me?"

"It's Bennett, Sir."

"Bennett!" Declan echoed. Bennett was one of the kids he had found on the street, helped, and taught how to make money instead of just giving them money. He had always known he had no sense of loyalty, but to sell him off in that manner was the height of it.

"I'm on my way now."

"Boss…" Stan's voice was more like a whisper. Declan stayed quiet, expecting him to complete his statement, but nothing came after that.

"Is there a problem, Stan?"

"He has run away."

"What!" Declan held the phone closer to his ear. "Are you joking with me, Stan? If he has run away, find him, and bring him to me. I want to see him before the end of the day."

Stan didn't say anything. "I will find him, boss."

"Better you do, Stan. Otherwise, by the end of today, you won't have a job to call your own."

"I will find him." Stan's voice was loud. He hung up.

Declan sighed. He didn't care where Bennett had hidden. He was going to find him and let him know that you don't steal from Declan and get away with it. The idea of going to his office to face more betrayals like the one that had run away didn't please Declan in any way. He groaned and dropped on the bed, while his head flashed through what had happened the previous night. He remembered the lady with the red hair and got up. He picked up his car key and drove to the hospital.

Now that he wasn't carrying a patient, he was able to appreciate the hospital. Unlike every hospital he knew, this one had been painted light blue, even the tiles. He could easily refer to it as the blue hospital. The place was busy. Nurses and doctors kept running, and visitors expressed different emotions on their faces. Some were excited. Some were crying. He couldn't read the expression on some faces; they just stared into nothing as if they weren't in a public place. He shrugged, not caring to notice that every corner looked the same. He wasn't ready to ask anyone for directions after what that one nurse had done to him.