I couldn't suppress the disgust rising within me any longer. I vomited everything in my stomach. Hearing the sound of me retching, he grew anxious on the other end of the phone.
Meanwhile, in the video, he suddenly sat up, holding the girl tightly. A few minutes later, Javier threw his shirt to the girl and said, "My wife's not feeling well. You'll have to go home on your own tonight."
His voice softened afterward, slightly husky from the aftermath, "Take a cab, don't save money. It's dangerous outside."
But the girl, frail after their encounter, was too weak to even get out of the car. Javier, his eyes still red, grabbed her by the neck and kissed her forcefully. "This time, I'll take you home. Don't expect this again," he said.
Watching the dashcam footage on my tablet, I laughed silently. But tears streamed down my face, falling onto the screen.
I had known Javier for fifteen years. My family didn't agree with our marriage. To marry me, he started his own business right after graduating. He used to drink himself into having stomach ulcers for work, the worst time landing him in the ICU.