Chapter 4. Public Humiliation

I walked back into the restaurant. I allowed my eyes to roam the place — I spotted where he was seated. I marched towards his table. He was with some men. There were glasses of wine before them and a bottle.

There was the waitress who had served me coming towards me.

“Ma'am, here's your bill. I—”

I ignored her and focused on the table of these men. I randomly picked two glasses still filled with wine and emptied their contents on him, angry tears filling my eyes.

“I hope your conscience haunts you every day of your life!” I took the other two wine glasses while he stared in shock and also poured them on him. “I hope you never find peace and may your marriage, if you have any, and life in general be ruined the same way you ruined mine.” I wiped tears with the back of my hand. “I hope karma visits you and steals your happiness as you have stolen mine.”

I turned away from his table and, on heavy legs and with a despaired heart, walked to mine to get my bag. I opened it and brought my card. I could not stop crying.

There were gasps and whispers. They could say all they wanted — my life was already a scandal.

I handed it to the waitress.

“Just take whatever's on the bill. I need to leave.”

The waitress harbored pity in her eyes for me. I watched her slide the card.

“Who's the manager here?!” That evil guy boomed angrily.

I saw a waiter hurry towards his table with a clean cloth — he was trying to wipe the stains. I looked away.

“It's not working, ma'am,” the waitress said.

I frowned. “That can't be. I have money in there, it's supposed to work. Try it again.”

She did and said the same story.

“It's still not working, ma'am.”

My heart dropped from its natural position. This could not be happening. Had Christian blocked my cards?

I brought out the second one. “Please try this.”

She did.

“Same thing.”

“Oh God.” Panic set in. How was I going to survive? And I had no cash with me.

I brought out my phone and dialed his number. It rang, but he didn't pick up. Three more tries and he picked.

“You're disturbing me, Hailey. I have no...”

“No. No. No. You don't understand. Wait, listen to me. Did you block my cards?”

“When I said everything now belongs to me, I meant it. Now stop disturbing me.”

He ended the call.

“Ah... ah...” A broken cry escaped my lips.

With shaky legs, I propelled myself to my seat. Eyes were still on me. I knew people would think of how crazy I was acting up, but they would not understand.

“I don't...” How would I tell the girl I could not pay for the food I barely ate? It made me regret not taking her up on that offer of a second chance at free food, as she had thought I didn't like the first food.

“Ma'am, I wish there was something I could do to help you, but my hands are tied. Maybe you could talk to the manager.”

“Is the manager available?” I sniffled, struggling with tears. My eyes hurt from too much crying.

“Unfortunately, she's not, and her assistant called in sick,” the waitress informed.

“Then why did you even suggest talking to her if she's not fucking available?!” I raised my voice in frustration.

She looked taken aback.

I blinked, sniffled and sighed.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, ma'am. Please let me know when you're ready to pay.”

She left to attend to some other customers. There was no way I would be leaving here without paying.

I placed my head on the table, not knowing what to do. I remained that way for quite a while, silently crying and constantly trying Christian's number.

“Good day, ma'am.” I raised my head to see two uniformed men standing close to my table. “We received a report of public harassment from Mr. Johnson here.” One of the men pointed at him.

He stood, his shirt stained with wine, his hair sticky. And he was more than angry.

“Officers, take her away.”

“You have the right to remain silent, ma'am.” The policeman lifted me from the seat.

“I...” I met his stare and shut up. There was nothing to defend.

The waitress hurried towards us. “She's yet to pay for her meal,” she informed the policemen.

I hung my head in shame. I tried to hold back my tears, but I could not.

“I'll pay. Let them take her away,” Mr. Johnson told the waitress.

I picked up my purse as they took me along with them. My eyes met his only for the briefest moment before I looked away.

“Serves her right for behaving like a lunatic.” I heard a woman say.

“She belongs in the asylum, not the cell,” another whispered.

“How can a woman act so uncouth? And in public? Embarrassing,” another said.

These words cut through my heart, and I bled more. I was a good person; I always had been. My father had always taught me to be nice and kind and never let his wealth make me become someone I'd hate.

I loved just one man. Had the perfect life with him. He had been there when I lost my dad. But everything was changing, and I had no power over it.

I was pregnant. Homeless. My credit cards had been blocked. No hope of survival. I had a baby to raise.

Should I have agreed to abort the baby? Maybe Christian would take me back. Why did I ever think that he would want to raise another man's child? I should have obeyed and gotten rid of the pregnancy.

I entered the back of the police vehicle, quiet and defeated.

“I have lost,” I whispered to myself.

For some reason, I turned my neck and, through the back of the car's glass, saw him outside the restaurant, watching. He stared at me with an unsmiling expression and went back inside.

I still could not understand why he had denied me. I was sure he was the man. I had seen his face, and it was one I could not forget. The height, build and features were all the same and exact.

“I didn't do anything, officer. The man who called you actually raped me while I was drunk and unconscious, you have to believe me, please.” I looked at both men flanking my both sides, urging them with my eyes to believe me...