The Reborn Son Inlaw: From Failure To Triumph

Chapter three

Rhys felt hurt and embarrassed as he leaves the hall but he doesn’t let it show. Seeing his wife in the arms of another man was a big slap to his face. His and Malia’s married was just an arranged one, something that was arranged by Malia’s grandfather before he passed away so there was no love in it but still he gave her the respect she deserved as his wife even though she simply didn’t care.

She didn’t want them living in the same room, he respected that and moved to a different room, in the end, he was nothing but a live in son in law who had to rely on his wife’s family for everything. In the end, he still had to work like a slave of the family to earn his keep. There was no difference between him and a hired help. This was a bruise to his ego that was why he still took up petty jobs to make some cash but it was nothing to the one that Malia earned.

She had brought up divorce too many times but he never agreed, in fact there were divorce papers in his room with Malia’s signature written on it but he never signed it, for more than three years he hoped that she would one day change her mind about him and accept him but it wasn’t forthcoming and seemed like it would remain nothing but a wistful wish.

Rhys didn’t own a car and he could only result to walking back home dejectedly. In more than an hour, he arrived in the only place he could call home, there was no one at home since everyone was busy having fun at the party. The maids had retired for the night.

His legs led him to his room, straight to the bedside table where a document laid, collecting dust. Rhys took it and carefully opened it, written in bold letters was the word ‘DIVORCE AGREEMENT’ and beneath it was Malia’s signature, Rhys took a pen, he glanced at where his signature should be, contemplating on whether or not he should sign it.

There was no love in the relationship, it seemed like he has been trying to force things by showing Malia affection. He would buy her small gifts which would end up on the trash the second she received them but she would flaunt the presents given to her by various admirers.

“Why should I care?” He asked himself. In the end, he dropped the pen, returned the document to where it was- still unsigned by him.

Rhys walked towards the bathroom, pulled off his shirt, looking for any injury that he might have missed. Upon finding none, his confusion rose. “What happened tonight?” He could clearly recall lying on the side of the road while feeling pains all over his body. He was clear that he had punctured his lungs but now he was breathing just fine like it never happened.

He was willing to believe that everything that happened was nothing but a dream but as his hands rubbed his face, his glasses was nowhere to be found. He looked at the mirror, realizing that he could see clearly without the glasses.

“What is happening to me?” He felt strange. As long as he could remember, he always had poor sight and required his glasses to see clearly but now, he could see without the aid if it. Rhys waved his hand before him a few times to confirm this.

“I can really see.” Tears started to roll down his cheeks but he quickly wiped it off. As a child in the orphanage, unwanted by a lot of people, he had been bullied and had his glasses stolen from him a lot of times as pranks from the other kids. He often found himself walking around with his hands flailing in front of him as a means of support in order to find his way around.

All of a sudden, Rhys noticed a mark on his wrist, it was a small circle, blue in color. It was invincible unless you looked closely. Rhys couldn’t remember where it came from and didn’t recall ever visiting the tattoo shop for any reason. Curiously, he rubbed it, hoping that it was just a temporary mark that would come off with effort.

Rhys was doomed to be wrong, there was no changes, he placed it under a flowing water, tried to wash it off but it didn’t come off. “What are you?” Then he unknowingly tapped on it.

The view in front of him suddenly changed, one minute he was in the bathroom, the next, he was in a place filled with a lot of fog, , he couldn’t even see around him. Rhys pinched himself a few times to be sure that he wasn’t dreaming. “Is this some sort of prank?” He asked whilst looking around him, wasn’t bold enough to take a step forward.

“This is crazy! Let me out of here” No one answered him. ‘This is crazy. I must be dreaming.’ He pinched himself a few more times, the pain was an assurance that it wasn’t a dream.

He noticed a bright light glowing in the midst of the fog, he slowly walked towards it. Upon reaching it, he saw that it was a golden book suspended on midair, there was no strings holding it and no platform under it; it was just hanging, emitting a soft glow.

Rhys looked around cautiously before his line of sight fell on the book once again. Out of curiosity, he placed his hand on the book, intending to open it but he froze in place. A burst of pain overwhelmed his head, a lot of information was being imprinted in his mind, it was so much that blood started to flow out of his seven orifice, Rhys screamed in pain, he tried to take his hands off but it was impossible. Rhys instantly regrets his action.