Three Chances Too Late

"Why the hell should I! Kim, don't push it too far! I'm your husband!"

Kim stood up in her disheveled clothes. The flush on her face had not faded yet.

"What are you yelling at me for? Just because you're infertile, so I can't enjoy it a little? Don't you want to treat your father? Don't you want money?"

Emmett, wrapped in only a towel, stood behind her, looking at me smugly, saying, "Julian, I'm just helping you do your husbandly duties. Don't worry. I will never take your place."

He walked over and whispered in my ear, "You're just a piece of trash who can't even satisfy your woman. Your father should just go to hell!"

There were some insults that I could bear with, some I shouldn't.

I lifted my arm and threw a punch in his face. I did not eat or drink for two days. I was held up with nothing but rage.

The punch drained me of all my energy.

Emmett didn't expect that I would suddenly attack him. He caught the punch in his face and stumbled backward.

However, he was young and strong, so he soon started attacking back.

I avoided a few punches, but missed the one in my abdomen. A pang of pain shot through me as if my organs were destroyed. I tasted metal in my throat.

He didn't give me any chances of catching my breath, continuing with kicks into my abdomen.

Over and over again.

I spat a huge mouthful of blood on the floor.

"Alright, enough!" Kim finally rushed over and pulled Emmett, who was still attacking me, back.

She looked at me and the pool of blood. Her pupils contracted. She had a hint of inconspicuous panic on her face.

She subconsciously went up to me as if she wanted to check on me, when Emmett suddenly sobbed pitifully, "Kim, it really hurts. Why would Julian hit me?"

Kim stopped right in her tracks. All of her focus was suddenly pulled back to Emmett's slightly reddened hands.

"Look at how red your hands are. Does it hurt?" She lowered her head and gently blew on his fists, completely ignoring me, her husband on the floor, who just spat a mouthful of blood. It was as if I was some trash in their way.

She finally looked at me icily, even annoyedly. "You shouldn't have hit him. Clean yourself up. I'll go and deal with Emmett's injuries."

Then, she led Emmett out without looking back at me.

I coughed and spat more blood. I found the entire thing absurd and comical.

Julian, oh, Julian. What were you still expecting?

She no longer cared about me. I was nothing compared to the slight redness on his hands.

I lay on the cold, hard floor for a long time. The pain in my abdomen and chest was so intense that I thought I was about to die.

I struggled to get up and headed out of the bedroom.

Kim was carefully peeling shrimp for Emmett.

Emmett opened his mouth, enjoying her services.

When he saw me, his eyes gleamed with arrogance and condescension.

I remembered Kim once told me that she would never peel shrimp for any man in this world. Turns out that it wasn't true. She just wouldn't do it for me.

When she saw me stumbling over, she looked up coldly and said, "You're here. Come and eat. Emmett's a guest. You'd better be on your best behavior. If you can't do it, just get lost."

Emmett furrowed his brows and said, "Kim, the food isn't really that nice. It's too salty."