As night fell, the doorbell rang, breaking the illusion. Scarlett rose to answer, her voice light. “Who could that be at this hour?” Her tone shifted abruptly when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
Carter’s voice followed, low and pitiful. “I had nowhere else to go. Won’t you let me in?”
When he stepped inside and saw me, his face lit with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Henry! I didn’t realize you’d be here. My hotel had issues, and Scarlett mentioned you had a guest room. I hope it’s not too much trouble?”
I glanced at Scarlett, whose face had paled, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Of course,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Make yourself at home.”
I excused myself to fetch some spare pajamas while Scarlett led Carter to the guest room.
***
Upstairs, I moved quietly, making sure to stay within earshot. I heard Scarlett’s sharp whisper, filled with barely restrained anger.
“Are you out of your mind? What do you think you’re doing?”
Carter’s reply was soft, pleading. “I miss you, Scarlett. I miss our child.” There was a brief pause before Scarlett hissed, her voice colder now.
“Shut up! The child I’m carrying belongs to my husband. Do you understand?”