THE AWAKEN RAYMOND WEST STRIKE BACK

Chapter 6

Simon didn’t stop there.  

As if his words alone weren’t cruel enough, he slid his hand around Megan’s shoulder and pulled her a little closer to his side. The gesture was deliberate calculated, intimate, impossible to misunderstand. He made sure Raymond saw it. Every second of it.  

Then he looked up and smirked.  

“Tell me, Raymond,” he said, his voice laced with mockery, “if not for love, what would Megan be doing with a poor orphan like you? A man so lost he doesn’t even know his left from his right.”  

His smile widened.

 “You should be grateful. In fact, you should be thanking your stars that Megan has already divorced you.”  

For a moment, Raymond thought he had misheard him.  

The words rang in his ears, sharp and unreal, yet Simon’s face showed no trace of humor. He wasn’t joking. Not even a little.  

And that was what made it worse.  

Raymond stood frozen, staring at them as disbelief settled heavily in his chest. 

All this time, he had believed Megan loved him. Truly loved him. He had believed she was the one person who saw him for who he was rather than what he owned. He had believed she would stand by him, fight beside him, build with him, endure with him, and rise with him.  

He had believed she was his partner. His home. His person.  

But now, looking at the way she sat there allowing Simon’s hand to rest on her waist, allowing him to pull her close as though that place beside her had never belonged to Raymond at all he felt something inside him crack.  

He began to see it for what it was. Or at least what it now looked like.  

She had played him.  

And worse, she wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. She was letting another man touch her in front of him, leaning close enough for anyone to read the meaning in their posture. 

Who knew what they had discussed before he arrived? Who knew what had already happened in private? Who knew how long this had truly been going on?  

A bitter realization tightened around him.  

He had never once held Megan that way. Never pulled her to him. Never wrapped his hand around her waist or shoulder. Never let himself cross that line, because she had told him not to.  

That had been their arrangement. Her rule. Her condition.  

No intimacy. No touching. No holding hands the way married couples did. No crossing boundaries until he had become successful enough, until he had “made something” of himself. She had told him that discipline would sharpen his hunger, that restraint would keep him focused, that the reward would mean more once he had earned it.  

And he had believed her.  

Like a fool, he had believed every word. He had accepted the distance, swallowed the loneliness, and called it sacrifice. He had convinced himself it was love in a different form support disguised as structure, devotion disguised as patience.  

Now he stood there watching another man do with ease what he had been denied for years, and the truth hit him with humiliating force.  

He had built his life around promises that had never been real.  

And like a fool, he had believed those lies.

Raymond turned slowly to Megan, his face drained of color, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. Yet beneath that quiet tone was something raw, something trembling with anger and heartbreak.  

“Is it true?” he asked. “Everything he just said… is it true?”  

His eyes searched hers desperately, as though he was still hoping against all reason that she would deny it.  

“Is it true that you really see me as less than you? Is it true that everything you’ve been doing all this time was just a façade? That you never truly saw me as worthy enough to be your husband?”  

His voice cracked, but he pressed on.  

“Was any of it real, Megan? Anything we shared? All the things I thought meant something… were they never serious to you? Was I just convenient? Just someone to pass the time with until something better came along? Was I just a stepping stone?”  

He swallowed hard. “Answer me. Is it true?”  

Before Megan could say a word, her mother cut in with vicious force.  

“Shut your mouth, you irritating fool,” she snapped.

 “You are becoming more and more unbearable by the second. Standing there as if you’ve ever done Megan some kind of favor.”  

She took a step toward him, her expression twisted with disgust.  

“What exactly have you done for Megan? What have you done for this family? What have you ever done for this family except drag us down?”  

Her tone turned commanding. “At this point, you should already be on your knees apologizing to Simon. You should be begging him for the way you spoke to him earlier. Then you should ask him to let you work for him, so that at least the little brain you have can finally be put to proper use.”  

She pointed sharply toward Megan and Simon. 

“Instead, you’re here trying to challenge them? Attack them? You should be kneeling before both of them and begging seriously. But here you are, acting proud. Proud of what exactly?”  

Her voice hardened into something cold and threatening.  

“So listen carefully, Mr. Man. Get down on your knees and start begging. If you don’t, this will not end well for you. Whether you like it or not, you will agree to what we’ve said. And if you refuse, then understand this clearly you will be thrown out of this family. Your clothes, your belongings, everything you own will be tossed out, and you’ll be left sleeping under a bridge.”  

Then she smiled a cruel, knowing smile.  

“And don’t forget that tiny office space you’re so proud of. The one you used your last money to rent? My friend knows the owner of that property. With one phone call, you’ll lose that too.”  

She folded her arms and looked him up and down with contempt.  

“So you’d better think very carefully about the choice you make at this moment.”