From Divorced To A Billionaire

Heavy voices of merry ladies and men hung hugely over Jamole's house. Today was the 24th birth day party of his adorable wife, Stella Pitcher and although she had hinted him about it a few nights ago, yet he was still lost in his gloom due to what she demanded for a birthday gift.

Nights on end Jamole had been nagged by countless nightmares over thought of meeting her demand. He barely could provide a proper square meal for Stella so he wondered what would inspire his elegant wife to demand for an Arabic Coral Gold Ring.

He was yet to know the worth of that gold ring but truth be told, with the few celebrities he had seen donning that ring he knew it wasn't a piece of cake.

With his oversized shoes which had its sole gaping at the ceiling and his I-was-white T-shirt over bottom-patched pants, he was all ready for work but without the audacity to go to his wife in the sitting room to demand for ten dollar which was his transport fare to work.

The merriment continued in a very thumping manner and they were about cutting the sizeable cake when Jamole pranced to the sitting room, perched at the door, and cast a worrisome gaze at his wife, who was smiling cheek to cheek and accepting gifts of all sorts from her rich pals and associates.

All the while he had been initiating their gaze to meet so she could advance to him and help him with the money, saving him the embarrassment of the guests raising a brow at his odd looks; because he knew they would definitely raise a brow if he had stepped an inch further into their midst.

Fortunately their gaze locked and she caught the message in his cloudy eyes. She excused herself and her high heels knocked louder toward him.

"Happy birthday, wife," Jamole affirmed gratefully since wishes were the only gift he could afford now. A contagious smile decked his face and she didn't return the compliment, making his smile to disappear within the chin from where it came.

Just like he did, she folded her arms, shot her quarrelsome gaze at him and queried him with her thunderous eyes.

He wanted to speak yet further and she raised her hands at him to shut the hell up.

He winced and snorted with his thick lips tightly pressed.

"Today is my birthday. Am I going to remind you Arabic Coral Gold Ring still remains what I want for a birth day gift, huh?" she yelled.

With the corner of his eyes, Jamole could see a few of the guests had settled their gaze on them.

"Could you please keep your voice down, dear? You are creating a scene." he mumbled, struggled to keep his stare between the guests that were moping at them now and his wife who was mad at him in a menacing manner.

Her wide, pale palms were raised at him once again when he dared to explain himself. "Spare me that crab, Jamole. For three years, three whole years I have been begging my able-bodied husband to buy me Arabic Coral Gold Ring and it is already taking you eternity to do so." She peered at him and stooped. "When are you going to buy me the ring? Is it when lions begin to use clipper?"

He dared to swallow hard this time but his mouth had dried up and he inwardly fought back the grievances impounding in his heart. He became the spectacle of the entire guest now because her voice was already beaming.

"Please ,Stella can we discuss this privately, at least out of earshot?" His eyes darted around and she did same to see all eyes were on them now. "Our marriage deserves some respect, and I am still your husband despite my..."

She interposed him, "...Poverty," she added.

He raised a furrowed brow and she tossed her head in affirmation, "Yes of course!" her voice blared and echoed across the room, "What else could have caused my husband three years to buy me a mere gold ring if not poverty..."

He interrupted her with his arms molded in apologies. "Give me some more time, I promise to buy you the gold ring, just give me one more year...I am working out something," he stuttered, as he could hear few of the guests murmuring words that sounded like 'good-for-nothing husband.'

"Broke ass husband! Could you please leave our party? We don't want bad energy here." He heard a voice mumble among the guests.

That was the voice of Vivian Thompson; she owned one of the best selling supermarkets in town.

At once again Jamole grinned hugely and rolled his eyes at Vivian.

When he thought that was enough another voice among the guests beamed, "Can you imagine his shoes? It gapes like the mouth of a whale!" that was the voice of Kennedy John, a sales person at the Antipolo Central Airport. He was among the closest buddies of Stella.

The entire guests burst into a mocking laugh and Jamole shut his eyes and grinned hard.

Stella chuckled and let a throaty, mocking laugh, while she pointed into his face, "Okay I guess one year won't be enough, my darling husband. I am going to give you two decades to buy me a birthday gift." She pointed at the tons of various gifts. "Did you see those gifts over there, they were given to me by friends who know my worth; pals who value Stella Pitcher. I can do without you, Jamole."

After three years of saving his daily income of one dollar as a janitor at the post office and the municipal town hall, he was able to realize one thousand dollars for the Arabic Coral Gold Ring.

He chuckled, revealing lines of joy as he gazed upon the dollar notes in his sizeable box where he had been saving the money.

"Oh sweetie, I am going to buy you the gold ring now. I have managed to save up to one thousand dollars for the ring," he intoned, peered at his wife's sizeable photo in his hold. "I can't wait to etch smile on that face of yours. Today is the premiere day of my life." he began to walk away impatiently as he looked toward going to the store to buy her the ring.

The excitement of a thousand souls hung over him as he made home with the Arabic Gold Ring cautiously held in his hands; this was the climax of his achievement as a husband.

He was prone to greet every Dick, Tom and Harry that came in sight and any careful observer would notice he was excited. At bated breath, he ran home to present the gold ring to his adorable wife.

"Sweetie, I am back! Guess what! I just bought you the Arabic Coral Gold Ring!" his voice filled the entire yard as he pranced toward their bedroom.

With the freedom of a bird, he barged into the bedroom only to behold his wife moaning under the weight and pounding of a flamboyant, young man; that was Roger, her boss.

"Holy kitten!" he exclaimed at the top of his voice and the bag in his hands dashed the floor. "Stella!" he shrieked, body trembled and mouth gaping.

Neither of them flinched or was remorseful instead they kissed engagingly, and Roger caught her nipples and wet them with his moist lips and she bit her lower lip longingly.

"Oh easy, sweetie! She whimpered.

"Is your live-in-husband going to watch me smash you?" Roger asked, while he squeezed her nipples.

Jamole stared at this iniquity and shut his burning eyes.

He breathed uneasily and Stella finally snapped at him, "What is all this, Jamole? Are you stupid? Have you gone ninny? How dare you interrupt our privacy?" she pulled out of the duvet.

He shut his eyes and fought back tears. It was erroneous to cry before them so he wouldn't dare to do it. "Why did you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?" Jamole queried.

Smiling cheek to cheek, Stella pushed out her finger and the gold ring glistened gracefully. "Well, what you couldn't buy in three years, my boss brought in less than two minutes. This is Arabic Coral Gold Ring. It is from a man that values my happiness, a man like you."

He interrupted her, "But why?" he fondled into his bag and brought out the gold ring. "I just bought you the same gold ring. Why did you do this to me, Stella? Why?"

"You good-for-nothing husband, so you still have the nerves to pride in your poverty after taking eternity to buy me just a gold ring. Where did you steal that from, huh, because for all I know you have been a broke ass and can't fend for yourself let alone buy me a gold ring."

He shut his eyes and raised his gaze at the ceiling; his heart thudded with heartbreak.

She barked on, "Besides you have no right to disrupt our privacy. This house belongs to me and I have the right to do with it what I like. Now we deserve some apology. Go on your knees and apologize, Jamole!"

Her boss tossed his head in agreement.

Jamole raised a furrowed brow, widened his gaze and gaped at them. "What did you just say?"

"Yes, you heard me right," she beamed, "Go on your knees and apologize before I do something stupid!" she threatened through clenched teeth.

The veins under his skin pumped in fury and he swallowed hard.

She leaned toward some documents on the shelf and tossed at the face of Jamole, "Since you wouldn't apologize, I want a divorce. I am sick and tired of a broke as janitor that calls himself my husband. Sign those divorce papers at your leisure and never you show up your poverty-stricken face in my life again." She said at a breath and started kissing her boss.

Jamole swallowed hard and there was no saliva to gulp down his throat. He fell upon his knees and gazed upon these divorce papers.

"Oh God! Why is this happening to me?" he mumbled.

With his dimmed eyes staring at them, he forced a smile and replied her, "It is okay, Stella, we shall see."

He took a walk.

When he arrived at the municipal post office complex he was already gasping for breath and sweating like a pig.

His wife that used to assist him with transport fare had divorced him and life seemed to be throwing at him now.

About drifting to the dress room to change into his uniform and resume cleaning, his boss's beaming voice caught him. "Jamole! You are late again."

Dean Bur was his boss, a tall, strong featured man who humiliated him at any slightest chance.

"What do you have to say about this Jamole?" he pointed around the dirty complex, "The whole place is messed up over the weekend. I expected you to resume on time and clean up before customers would start coming." He was almost raising his voice. "I need explanations, Jamole."

Jamole raised his gaze and raised a pitiable, sullen brow. "Apologies, boss. I shouldn't have come late. It ...it," he stuttered, "It is just that I have unsolved problems with my wife, who deprived me my transport fare that is the reason I am late."

Dean bur winked to a sort, and yelled at him, "I don't know why you poor people always have excuse. I believe that is the reason you are poor. I think you don't deserve this job. It is high time you quit, hit the road and start begging," he pointed at him from head to toes. "Just take a look at yourself. You have always lagged behind in your work that is why you look horrible and can never be rich!" he yelled radically at him.

Jamole shivered and flinched at his words. He held a grinned face and sniffed. Would a day ever come when Dean Bur would regret all he had ever told him?

"Take your filthy self out of my sight!" he snapped at him, expecting him to walk away but he stood his ground and went on his knees instead.

Recently heavy thought had overshadowed him; he had always loved Stella. She was the wife of his youth. He could recall how he had pleaded with his boss to give him an extra job so he could earn enough money and make her happy.

"So where did I go wrong?" he queried within himself.

"Apologies boss please I need a favor of you," he had said, molded his arms and demanded intensely with his sorry face.

He shot his quarrelsome gaze at him. "And what could that be? I hope it is not money because I don't have any penny to give your broke ass."

He tossed his head in disapproval. "No boss. I need an extra duty so that I can earn more money and have enough savings. I have an urgent need," he had explained to Dean.

Dean's brow thickened as the ridges in sand, "But why do you need an extra duty? You have never made such demands since you became a janitor."

He swallowed hard, sniffed hugely and lowered his gaze in shame, "My...my wife needs Arabic Coral Gold Ring for a birthday gift and she is ready to pour hell's soup on me if I don't get her one. I adore my wife so much. I don't want to get her walked up for any reason. She is very dear to me."

Dean Bur had interrupted him with an outburst of laugh. "You are insane. Arabic Coral Gold Ring is too expensive for you. I don't think you can afford it now or in the life after."

He protested, "at least we have affordable ones. Please boss. I need extra duty so that I can have enough savings and buy her the one that is selling for one thousand dollars. Yes, I just did a market survey. There is one that sells for one thousand dollars."

Done mocking him and choking on his laugh, Dean said, "Well if you insist, the municipal town hall urgently needs a cleaner and maintenance personnel. You can start with immediate effect, and you must be diligent and take it seriously! None of the jobs must suffer at the expense of the other," he had warned Jamole.

"Thank you boss. Thank you so much, boss." He appreciated and fell on the ground in gratitude while Dean walked away.

Jamole had fondled his pocket, brought out his sizeable wallet and took out photo of his wife and smiled at it cheerfully, "I promise to work hard and get you the gold ring sweetie. I promise," he had placed the photo on his chest, as he got down to work.

Jamole wondered where he went wrong and what inspired Stella to have the nerves to cheat on him with her boss in the matrimonial bed and still order him to apologize to them for distracting them.

"Oh, I can't take this anymore! This is the worst thing that has ever happened to any man." he raised his gaze and affirmed within himself, "I must succeed. I must become rich and will strike back." He raised his gaze at the sky and beamed, "Oh Lord, this is too much for me to bear."

Walking down the lonely street, Jamole stared thoughtfully in space. He could recall all he had been through in the hands of Stella, all in the name of marriage:

All his life as a janitor at the municipal post office in Antipolo, he never had savings due to the peanut he earned as salary. This had made him to shrink from his responsibility as a husband and lose sheer honor from his wife and among his peers.

He never intended to eschew responsibility and in his gloom, he looked forth to the day he would earn enough money and surprise his wife with all she had ever wanted.

Right about now all that his wife, Stella, nagged about at home and whenever she saw him was her Arabic Coral Gold Ring, even this had deprived them the consummation of their marriage.

Stella had moved into the other bedroom, locked the door and restricted Jamole to spend the night in the sitting room, with a stern warning never to sleep in the sofa but on the cold floor.

"But I thought I promised to buy you the gold ring. Why are you doing this to me, Stella, why?" he had protested when she wouldn't offer him breakfast.

This was the height of it!

Already, Stella was pained. Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. "You are very impossible, Jamole. I regret having you as my husband," she had fumed and pushed out her fingers, "Take a look at my finger. Can you see any wedding ring on my finger?" she queried and sniffed.

He had raised a thick brow and swallowed hard as he lowered his gaze on her finger. He gave a sullen look in response.

She intoned yet further, "The one you gave me as wedding ring has worn out because it is too cheap and not even silver let alone gold. Only God knows from where you picked that rubbish ring." She swirled around. "Take a look at me. Do I look elegant as other women? No, because you don't own up to your responsibility as a husband. You claim to be a salary earner yet I feed you, cloth you and pay the rent!"

Jamole had interrupted her with a snort. His jaw went slack as he fought back tears. "But sweetie, I thought I promised to own to my responsibility. I want you to hold me by my words. Give me a little time to surprise you. Please." He pled with his arms molded.

The color drained from her face when she snarled at him, "Keep shut, you good-for-nothing husband! It has been one year I celebrated my birthday and another of my birthday is yet to come in few months and you still can't afford an ordinary Arabic Coral Gold Ring, huh!" she had wailed.

He was jaded and stolen by his melancholy. Expressly they landed on his chest. She had starved him for four days now because of this gold ring.

She pointed firmly at him and poked her finger in his face, while he stood as some frustrated statue. "For your information I don't have any wedding ring on my finger, so I am as good as any spinsters out there. Until you buy me the gold ring, I cease to be your wife!" she had yelled at the top of her voice.

Jamole's voice shrieked as he gagged his mouth with his arms. "No don't do this, Stella. I have been making plans toward getting a better job so I can take care of you. I am trying my best. I promise to come through once I am done with my plans. Soon you are going to smile because I will adorn your finger with the Arabic gold ring and whatever you need."

She interposed him with her finger which clicked repeatedly in the direction of the door. "Now leave my house. I am leaving for work. I can't leave you behind because I don't trust you with my food and my property."

That was the problem!

Right about now he was being possessed by the pangs of hunger. Since it was obvious she was going to deny him his transport fare, feeding became a necessity else he wouldn't have the vigor to walk to his work place.

His palms stroked his stomach. "Please dear if you starve me how am I going to have the energy to work? Please, give me food. I am famished. You know quite well my job demands strain and energy, and I don't have money to eat out," he had pleaded.

She shot her thunderous gaze at him. "I don't want to push you Jamole! Now leave!" she had growled maddeningly at him.

And when he hesitated, she pushed him and he stumbled toward the door. He settled his gaze on her as she drove away.

Jamole snapped out of the thought, grinned, tossed his head in pain and walked on...