“I know what you saw,” she added softly. “And it doesn’t matter. You’re still married… for now. But it’s only a matter of time.”
I looked at her—really looked at her. And for the first time, I didn’t flinch. I didn’t fold.
“You don’t have to worry,” I said, voice even. “After tomorrow, you’ll never have to see me again.”
Her eyes flickered. “Good.”
I walked out without another word.
That night, I took a long bath. Soaked in lavender, let the steam blur the mirror and my mind. I was exhausted. Not from the errands or the decor prep. From pretending. From staying silent.
When I stepped out, wrapped in a robe and toweling my hair, the door slammed open.
It was my mother. Without warning, she threw something at me. A gown. Beaded, emerald green.
“What the hell is this?” she snapped, tossing a delicate velvet box at me. The lid flipped open on impact, revealing a broken gold chain and shattered emerald pendant.
I stared at it, stunned. “Is that your necklace?”
She crossed her arms. “Patricia said she saw you near my room. Did you do this?”
I blinked, still staring at the broken emerald pendant, my voice soft. “No. I didn’t even go near your room.”