Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the House
The house began to feel cold,
the air conditioning humming a low,
mournful tune.
I walked through the rooms,
collecting my things with a clinical precision.
I didn't take much.
Just my personal documents,
my own jewelry,
and the files from the safe.
I left the designer clothes Nathan had bought me.
I left the custom-made furniture and the expensive art.
I wanted nothing that bore the Pierce name.
As I passed the hallway mirror,
I stopped.
I looked at the woman in the reflection.
She looked different from the woman who had walked into the ballroom five hours ago.
The softness was gone from her eyes.
The patience was gone from her mouth.
She looked like a stranger,
but a stranger I finally liked.
I heard the sound of a car in the driveway,
the heavy crunch of gravel beneath tires.
Nathan.
He was home.
I didn't panic.
I didn't run.
I walked back to my study and locked the door.
I heard the front door slam,
the sound echoing through the foyer.
“Mara!”
he shouted,
his voice slurred slightly from champagne and anger.
“Mara,
where the hell are you?”
I sat behind my desk,
watching the handle of the study door turn.
Locked.
He rattled it,
his frustration mounting.
“I know you’re in there!”
he yelled,
pounding on the wood.
“What the hell was that tonight?”
“You made us look like fools!”
“You walked out in front of the Senator!”
“Do you have any idea what my mother is saying right now?”
I remained silent,
listening to him rave.
It was the same pattern.
He would blame me for his mother's anger.
He would blame me for the social embarrassment.
He would never once mention the woman in the red dress.
“Open this door!”
he demanded,
kicking the bottom of the frame.
I stood up,
walking slowly to the door.
I didn't open it.
I simply spoke through the wood,
my voice low and calm.
“Go away,
Nathan.”
He stopped kicking,
the silence sudden and sharp.
“Mara?”
he asked,
his tone shifting to a false concern.
“Baby,
look,
it was a misunderstanding.”
“Brooke is just a friend of the family.”
“My mother invited her as a surprise for the bride.”
“She didn't mean anything by it.”
The lie was so pathetic it made my stomach turn.
“I turned off my phone,
Nathan,”
I said.
“Eleven calls was ten too many.”
“I saw the place card.”
“I saw Brooke’s hand.”
“I saw your mother’s face.”
“There is no misunderstanding.”
“There is only a choice.”
“And I’ve made mine.”
He started to protest,
but I walked away from the door,
back to the windows.
I watched the rain continue to fall,
washing the dust from the gardens.
“I’m calling a locksmith!”
he threatened from the hallway.
“Don't bother,”
I replied.
“I’ll be gone before the sun comes up.”
“And you’ll be hearing from Elias Thorne.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
The name of the attorney had finally punctured his arrogance.
He knew what Elias Thorne meant.
He knew that the Perfect Pierce Wife was dead.
May you like
And the survivor was standing in the dark,
waiting for the dawn.
