Chapter 2 - THE COST OF SILENCE
The next morning,
the sunlight streamed into the room,
but the atmosphere remained tense.
I had spent the entire night reading through the medical files Emily had kept hidden in her suitcase.
The costs were staggering,
running into hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Every cent she had earned as my housekeeper had gone to a specialized care facility in West Virginia.
She had been living on scraps,
wearing the same old clothes,
and enduring the sneers of my staff,
all so her brothers could breathe and her sister could have a roof over her head.
“Nathan,
you don’t have to do this,”
she said as she watched me make a series of phone calls.
“I didn’t marry you for your money,
and I don’t want you to feel obligated to fix my life.”
I turned to her,
holding my phone tightly.
“Emily,
we are married.
Your life is my life.
Your burdens are my burdens.”
But the world outside wasn’t as understanding as I was.
By noon,
my mother had arrived at the mansion,
unannounced and furious.
She paced the marble floor of the living room,
her designer heels clicking like a metronome of doom.
“Nathan,
the tabloids are already starting!”
she hissed,
throwing a magazine onto the coffee table.
“‘CEO Marries Housekeeper with Secret Past.’
Do you have any idea what this does to our stock price?”
I looked at the woman who had raised me,
realizing how shallow her world truly was.
“Mother,
you have no idea who Emily is,”
I replied coldly.
Emily stood at the top of the stairs,
watching the scene play out.
She looked small,
fragile,
and ready to run.
“I know she’s a girl from the hills with baggage that will pull you under,”
my mother shouted.
“If you don’t annul this marriage immediately,
the board will move to replace you.”
I glanced up at Emily,
who was already turning away,
tears streaming down her face once more.
She believed my mother was right.
She believed she was a curse.
But as I looked at the magazine,
at the mocking headlines,
and then at the woman I loved,
I knew I had to make a choice.
I walked to the bottom of the stairs and called out her name.
“Emily,
pack your bags.”
She froze,
her face pale.
“You’re leaving me?”
she whispered.
“No,”
I said,
ignoring my mother’s triumphant smirk.
“We’re going to West Virginia.
I want to meet Johnny,
May you like
Paul,
and Lily.”
