MCPEW 029 FREE AT LAST

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Four months later.

I huddled under the covers, shivering from the cold. The thin layer blanket I pulled to my chin wasn't enough to block the chill. The cold seeped through my feet, even with my socks on, and traveled throughout my body. 

A damp towel draped on my forehead wasn't enough to ease the heat from my body. The over-the-counter medicine I bought from the drugstore wasn't working either. I had been sick since last week, but until now there was no sign that it would simply go away. I was becoming seriously concerned about my health.

Recalling the events of these past few months, all I did was stay at home after purchasing a laptop to find a temporary job while waiting for my divorce to finalize. I landed a job as a freelance writer online. 

The pay was a lot less than my hotel job, but practically speaking, it was better than nothing. Writing was all I'd been doing before I came down with a fever. Perhaps I overworked myself and fell ill, I scolded myself as I shivered in bed. I hoped that it was just due to that reason! 

With me being so ill, I had to postpone my visit to the doctor to receive my medical report, and I was afraid to have some secret illness wrecking my body. 

Groaning, I willed my body to get up. Removing the warm towel from my temples, I soaked it in the cold water from the basin.

Bile rose in my throat at the simple action, and my stomach turned upside down. I felt like throwing up again, but I had no strength left to run to the bathroom. I couldn't even fold the towel properly before draping it over my temples.

Grimacing from the headache that pounded my head, I laid on my back and closed my eyes. 

The rain continued to pour heavily outside the small window of my room. The noise was comforting to my ears, reminding me I was still alive. Lifting the blanket back to my chin, I huddled deeper into the mattress, absorbing the little warmth it could provide.

Minutes later, I was fast asleep.

I woke up the next morning without a headache. Thankfully, my fever had finally broken in the middle of the night. Sighing with relief, I slowly eased myself up and leaned on the headboard. 

Looking at the window, rays of sunshine spilled on the small crevice of the window. With the storm over and my fever gone, I could finally go to the clinic to check my medical results. I had to make sure I didn't have any serious illness like my Mom.

As I got up from my bed, bile once again rose in my throat and my vision became unsteady. My hands clenched tightly on the bedpost for support. I stayed that way for a minute until the sudden dizziness subsided.

Slightly feeling better, I ran to the bathroom as fast as I could and threw up at the sink. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, and cold sweat formed on my temples while emptying the contents of my stomach.

I slumped onto the tiled floor of the bathroom like a withered plant, all energy gone. However, my heart continued to pump wildly inside my rib cage in worry.

Was I suffering the same illness as Mom? I asked myself, completely terrified at the thought. Could it be that I had cancer, too? Cancer was hereditary, wasn't it?

Abundant tears spilled down my cheeks.

Vomiting, dizziness, and hair loss. Those were the first symptoms Mom experienced before she's diagnosed with cancer. I had also been experiencing the same symptoms for weeks now.

No. I needed to stop panicking. I couldn't just assume things. I had to get confirmation from the doctor. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my palms. 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. I repeated the process until the turmoil inside me subsided.

Hands clutching the sink, I willed myself to get up. I was unsteady at first, but after a while I managed to regain my balance. 

With small careful steps, I slowly exited the bathroom. Grabbing my phone from the side of the bed, there was a text message from Doctor Tara. According to her, the medical results are ready.

I swallowed long and hard. I only hoped for normal medical results. At this point in my life, with my dwindling savings, where everything is not what it seems, I couldn't afford to become ill.

Placing my phone on the bed, my eyes caught sight of a white envelope. I picked it up but made no move to open it again. Instead, I shot it in the nearby trash can. What for? I knew what it was. It was a letter from my ex-husband's attorney informing me ‌that I was officially a free woman.

I was expecting for the divorce proceedings to take over half a year. However, I was surprised to find the letter on my doorstep just three days ago. Ace had used his influence and money to quicken the divorce process to only four months. 

He was that eager to get rid of me and marry his mistress.

My ex-husband had kept his word. After our last meeting at the cafe four months ago, I didn't see him again in person. But it did not mean I was rid of him for good. His face and the news of his upcoming marriage were all over the papers.

Shaking him off my thoughts, I grabbed the bath towel and padded to the bathroom for a quick rinse. A few minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom with only a bath towel on.

Selecting denim jeans and a plain white t-shirt for my outfit, I stood in front of the full-length mirror I purchased last week and put them on. There was something wrong with my outfit, I mumbled to myself, surveying my reflection in the mirror from head to toe.

At first, I couldn't point out what was wrong, but after a long moment of contemplation, I finally realized what was wrong.

The jeans hugged my thighs in a way they weren't used to. It was also rather tight around my midsection, making it difficult to breathe. My breasts were full and rounder, stretching the thin fabric of the plain white t-shirt.

It seemed I gained a bit of weight. When Mom died, I lost the motivation to stay fit, but I had to exercise again or else I would have to buy new clothes again. And if I gained weight, I might fall sick too. 

With a sigh, I departed from the mirror and dried my hair before securing the long strands in a neat ponytail. When I was done, I grabbed my shoulder bag and hurried to the door, to where I would hopefully receive good news in my medical report. 

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