Shards on the Ground

"You… You're divorcing me," Amelia repeated nonplussed, as though the words would make more sense coming out of her mouth than his. Her mind was whirling faster than the cup rides in the amusement park. 

"Oh, come on, don't look so surprised." Caleb crossed his arms and smirked. "Did you honestly believe that I would stay with you for the rest of our lives?" 

"Yes!" The word burst out of Amelia's lips like sparks off a hot coal. "That's what marriage means!"

The table burst out laughing as though she had told a good joke. 

"Maybe that would be true if I actually met a woman worth marrying," Caleb said, leaning back against his chair as he peered up at her with disdain in his eyes. 

"You're not hard either," one of the women tittered playfully. "Guess she can't do it for you."

Again, the crowd of Caleb's friends burst into roaring laughter. Amelia could feel her face burn brightly hot red― she wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her whole. She would give anything to not be here right now, anything to wake up in her bed only to realize that this was all just a bad dream.

"Look at her," one of the men said. "She looks so shocked that she might just piss herself!"

"Ew, gross!"

More mocking laughter filled the room. Beside her, Nigel had turned into a stone statue. He was broiling in a mixture of shock, disbelief, and confusion. On one hand, he was panicked about having treated Caleb Walton's lawfully wedded wife like that. On another, he was sure that he wouldn't be in any trouble― whatever Nigel had ever said or done to Amelia was a mere grain of salt in comparison to what Caleb himself was doing!

And divorce!

Caleb Walton certainly didn't seem to care about this wife of his!

"Well, what are you waiting for?" one of the women prodded, sneering at Amelia and Nigel as though they were two fat bugs on the road. "Get to cleaning. It's dangerous to walk around, don't you know?"

"Y-Yes… Yes!" Nigel said, jolting back to attention. He spun to Amelia, gesturing to the glass shards of the broken wine bottle. Running out, he quickly returned with a broom and a dustpan. "Hurry up!"

Right as Amelia was about to take the broom, her hands still shivering, a sharp click of the tongue stopped them short.

"I think using your hands will be enough," the same woman said with a coy smile. 

She leaned back into the seat, snuggling deep into Caleb's outstretched arm that was resting against the backrest. Caleb didn't flinch, silently allowing the woman's actions, and she grew bolder. She placed a hand on Caleb's chest, gently stroking the muscles that stretched the shirt taut.

Amelia's eyelids twitched as she watched, biting down on her bottom lip so hard that it began to draw blood.

"There's no need to use a broom," the woman said. "What if the glass shards get stuck there? Wouldn't that be dangerous?"

Snickers filled the room. Amelia turned her gaze to Caleb; she had a bit of hope left in her — however little — that he might just speak up for her. After all, it would be dangerous to touch it with bare hands, especially after Amelia had already accidentally cut herself on the shards when the bottle was smashed.

However, Amelia's face quickly fell when the seconds ticked on without a sign from Caleb. He didn't say a single word, simply turning his attention away to his friends. Their conversation resumed as though it hadn't been disturbed, with some of Caleb's friends either glancing at Amelia with mockery in their eyes or the rare bit of pity.

Her lips trembled but she wasn't allowed a second of reprieve. Before she could stomp out of the room, Nigel's hands found her shoulders, shoving her to her knees. She collapsed painfully against the floor, her knees scraping against some of the glass shards while her palms dragged across the floor.

Amelia's hands worked on autopilot, instinctively grabbing the scattered glass shards. Pinpricks of pain shot through her fingers and palms but it wasn't enough to wake her up from this nightmare. Her tears fell from her eyes as she worked, mixing with the red of her blood and the plum shade of the wine.

As she picked up some of the shards, she couldn't help but stare. They resembled her― broken and destroyed. Her entire world had collapsed in the span of fifteen minutes.

"Stop wasting time, you incompetent fool!" Nigel yelled.

He kicked her from the back, causing Amelia to stumble forward when she tried to get up to discard the waste. Whatever she had collected fell back onto the floor with a tinkling sound, attracting the eyes of Caleb's friends, who all could no longer pretend to ignore what was going on. However, none had the desire to help. Even if they did, none acted upon it.

"You're useless!" Nigel continued. 

He realized that Caleb Walton didn't just dislike his wife― he most likely hated her! With how his friends took great joy in watching Amelia suffer, Nigel might get a hefty tip if he played along as the protagonist to their new favorite pastime. As such, he raised his voice and his strength. 

This time, when Amelia turned around, Nigel's palm quickly came into contact with her cheek, causing her head to spin to one side. Her hand flew to hold the reddened spot immediately, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as she hadn't expected it coming. Nigel was a horrible manager, but he had never been physical.

Nigel, who had been so immersed in his act, failed to realize the amusement in Caleb's eyes died down as his expression darkened.

"How hard is it to sweep up some shards of glass?" Nigel screamed, spit spilling from his lips as he continued. "If you can't even handle some basic work, consider yourself―"

"Fired."