RING OF POWER

Chapter 4 Nothing To Lose

He hung up the phone, and time seemed to stop.

6:47 PM. Two hours and thirteen minutes until the pharmacy closed.

Four thousand pounds he didn't have.

A mother waiting at the hospital. A wife sitting behind him with her parents, waiting for him to make a choice he couldn't escape.

Richard was still watching him. Patricia had shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while Vivian's attention had returned to her hands.

"I have to leave," Alphonsus said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Richard's voice sharpened. It was the tone of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

"My mother. There's a medical emergency at the hospital. I need to go."

He didn't wait for a response. He headed for the door, and Vivian finally looked up.

"Alphonsus..."

"I'll be back," he said.

It was both a promise and a lie. He didn't know whether he would return, and even if he did, there was no guarantee that anything would be resolved.

The first place he went was the bank.

He had walked in at 6:58 PM and explained his situation to a young loan officer. She studied his application, examined his employment history and offered him an apology that sounded practised.

"I just need four thousand pounds, please," Alphonsus said. "I can pay it back. I just need some time."

"Without current employment, I can't approve that." She slid the application across the desk. "Have you considered asking your family?"

He had considered it. There was no one he could ask.

His mother was the one who was sick. His sister was still a college student. He was the provider, the person everyone depended on, and now he couldn't even secure a loan.

He left the bank at 7:03 PM.

His phone rang as he was getting back into his car. The caller was Marcus Webb, his warehouse supervisor.

"You're the guy who walked out today, right?" Webb's voice was flat.

"Yes, sir."

"You can't just leave a job like that. There's a process. There's paperwork."

"I apologize, but I had a family emergency—"

"Don't bother coming in tomorrow. You're terminated."

The call ended.

Alphonsus remained in his parked car, staring ahead as he tried to steady his breathing. He had walked away from the warehouse that afternoon because his mother needed him.

Now he had no job.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

Vivian: "Where are you? My parents want to leave."

He didn't respond. He had no answer for her, and he couldn't afford to waste another minute explaining himself.

Instead, he drove to the coffee shop, hoping David, the manager, would be there.

He needed to ask for an advance on his wages, more hours, or anything that could bring him closer to the four thousand pounds.

He pulled into the parking lot at 7:19 PM. David was behind the counter, restocking the espresso cups.

When Alphonsus asked if they could speak privately, David agreed. They stepped into the back office.

"I need to ask if you can advance me two weeks' pay," Alphonsus said directly. "It's urgent."

David's expression softened with sympathy, but he shook his head.

"Alphonsus, I can't do that. I'm barely keeping this place open myself. Is something going on? Are you okay?"

There was everything going on.

His marriage was falling apart. He had just lost his warehouse job, and his mother was in the hospital waiting for treatment he couldn't afford. Yet he couldn't find the words to explain any of it without sounding desperate.

"I'll figure it out," he said.

David looked as though he wanted to ask more, but Alphonsus was already heading for the door.

He left the coffee shop and drove straight to the hospital.

At the billing department, he explained his situation. He had two thousand pounds in cash, money he had been saving to pay rent, and he needed to know whether it could help cover his mother's treatment.

The billing clerk made several calls. A social worker eventually came down to speak with him.

After thirty minutes of going through available programmes and payment plans, they found a community assistance fund for low-income families facing medical crises. The fund could provide up to one thousand pounds.

Combined with his two thousand pounds, that brought the available amount to approximately three thousand pounds.

Still one thousand pounds short.

The hospital agreed to administer his mother's medication at 8:47 PM.

She was safe for another week, but he would still have to find a way to cover the remaining amount.

Alphonsus left the hospital and drove home.

Vivian was alone in the apartment. Her parents had already left.

The divorce papers were on the table.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"The hospital. Dealing with Mama's treatment."

She didn't ask for details. Instead, she went straight to what had been waiting between them all evening.

"I need an answer, Alphonsus. I need to know what you're going to do."

He looked at her, really looked at her, and understood something he had been trying to avoid.

She wasn't angry anymore. She was tired. She had already grieved their marriage, and now she was simply waiting for the paperwork to make the separation official.

"I'm going to sign," he said.

Vivian exhaled slowly, as though she had been holding her breath for hours. She picked up the pen and handed it to him.

Alphonsus looked at the signature line.

He thought about his mother lying in her hospital bed, receiving the treatment she needed. He thought about the rent money he had saved, the money he had set aside for a roof over their heads. He had spent it to keep his mother alive, leaving nothing to save his marriage.

Then he signed his name.

It took five seconds.

Vivian took the papers and set them aside.

"I'll send these to my lawyer tomorrow."

"Okay."

She walked into the bedroom and returned with a suitcase. It was already packed. She had been prepared for this, waiting for him to come home so she could finally leave.

"I'll be back for the rest of my things this weekend," she said. "But I think it's better if we're not here at the same time."

He nodded.

She looked at him for a moment. For a second, he thought she might say something more. Perhaps acknowledge the four years they had spent together, the promises they had made, or the life they had once tried to build.

Instead, she picked up her suitcase and walked towards the door.

"I hope things work out for you, Alphonsus," she said quietly.

Then she left.

The apartment fell silent.

Alphonsus stood alone in the kitchen, looking at the divorce papers on the table. His signature was there now, permanent and official.

His marriage was over.

His phone rang.

It was David from the coffee shop.

"Hey, Alphonsus. I heard about the warehouse situation through the grapevine. Look, I was thinking, if you want more hours here, I can work something out. We're expanding the morning shift and..."

Alphonsus answered before David could finish.

"David, thank you for calling, but I need to tell you something."

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep pretending that working himself to death for minimum wage was a solution to anything.

"I'm not coming back," he said.

There was silence on the other end.

"Alphonsus, don't make a decision right now. Sleep on it."

"I've made my decision."

He ended the call.

Now he had no jobs. No marriage. No plan. No money.

And he had just spent the only savings he had on keeping his mother alive for another week.