AbigailDinner turned out to be a far more intimate affair than I had anticipated. Instead of the crowded gatherings typical of the Remington family, the table was set for only the four us: Marceline, Alexander, Conrad, and me. No crowd of curious onlookers, no whispered gossip, and most importantly, no Susanna.It was a small mercy that she wasn’t present. I wasn’t sure if her absence was deliberate on Marceline’s part or if Susanna herself had chosen not to attend. Either way, I was grateful. Marceline and Alexander carried most of the conversation, their polite exchange drifting across the dining table as we ate. Marceline asked Alexander about his recovery, her voice warm with genuine concern. He described the plane crash with a grim clarity that made my stomach twist, and the difficult days that followed, when life had tried to strip him of everything.Marceline’s voice was edged with curiosity as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin and asked Alexander, “I can’t
AbigailI waited for Conrad to protest, like he always seemed to do when it came to Susanna, but to my surprise he said nothing. Then again, there was no mistaking the weight of Alexander’s words, or the look in his eyes—he wasn’t asking for permission, not that anyone in this family ever truly did.Alexander turned to me, his expression contemplative. “Abigail,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you. I’ve heard from everyone how helpful you’ve been, looking after Susanna during… everything.” He hesitated briefly, his tone softening. “I owe you a great debt.”I barely had time to respond before the door to the master bedroom swung open, and out stepped Susanna. Her face was a mess of tears, her voice cracki
AbigailI nodded at the apology, not trusting myself to speak just yet.“Susanna,” Conrad said quietly. “I think Alexander is right. You should go home with him. Your husband is back now.”The moment he finally agreed to let Susanna leave with Alexander, a weight seemed to lift from my chest.Alexander nodded. “Thank you again, for taking care of her.” He turned to Susanna. “Start packing your things. You’ll be leaving tonight.”“At least let me leave tomorrow,” Susanna said, her voice tight with barely concealed anger, but she didn’t dare show it in front of Alexander. “I can’t possibly pack all my things tonight.”
AbigailConrad froze for a moment, his eyes darting between me and the direction of Liliana’s wails. His face twisted with the conflict he wasn’t even trying to hide. “But Susanna’s situation is more urgent,” he said anxiously, his tone pleading.I stared at him, willing him to see the betrayal that his words carved into me. “I came here for—”“You’re just here to follow up on your foot injury, Abigail,” he interrupted, his voice becoming more pleading in a futile attempt to reassure me. “There’s no rush for that, but Susanna…” He trailed off, guilt in his eyes. “Look, you heard Liliana, she fell. That can’t be good for a pregnant woman. Once I confirm she’s fine and report
AbigailConrad grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. “Come on,” he said, pulling me along. “We’re leaving.”He paused only long enough to nod curtly at his brother. “Goodbye, Alexander.” He didn’t acknowledge Daniel.We walked past Alexander and his assistant and into the parking lot, Conrad not letting go of me till we reached the car. The drive home was suffocating. Conrad’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw set in that stubborn way of his, as though sheer silence could erase the fact he had left me on my own in the hospital. I didn’t bother speaking. What could I say that hadn’t already been said?What could I say that hadn’t already been ignored
AbigailThe park was as loud as a zoo, with the sounds of children running around playing with each other, and the chatter of other adults.Roxy and I sat side by side on the park bench, our feet brushing the mulch under us as I told her about the fight Conrad and I had gotten into after coming back from the hospital. I knew the question that was coming before she even opened her mouth.“So?” she asked, her voice breathless as she listened. “What happened next? After you slapped him?”The memory flashed through my mind—the anger, the unbelievable accusation Conrad had hit me with, the sharp sting of my palm against his face. I stared down at the mulch beneath my feet, scuffing it with the tip of my shoe
AbigailThe first thing I felt when I woke up was pain. The coarse rope binding my wrists had rubbed the skin raw, and every movement sent a sharp, burning sting shooting up my arms. My head pounded in a way that made it hard to piece together what had happened. The hands carrying me roughly dropped me to the ground, deliberately brushing up against the side of my body, and I shuddered in disgust.I groaned in agony as I landed on my shoulder, forcing my eyes open. I was in a dimly lit, grimy room, and the air heavy with the stench of sweaty bodies and cigarette smoke. A low murmur of voices reached my ears, followed by gruff laughter. Panic cut through me like the sting of ice water as the pieces fell into place—I had been kidnapped. I struggled to sit up, my breathing ragged.
AbigailMy chest heaved with panic as I struggled against the firm grasp of the person who had grabbed me. My body thrashed, still locked in survival mode, as the arms holding me tightened just enough to keep me from slipping to the floor. I clawed and kicked, my breaths ragged and sharp.“Abigail, stop,” a voice commanded, firm but quiet.I froze. That voice. It couldn’t be.Alexander.“It’s me. Calm down. You’re safe now.”The words registered slowly in my mind, as if they were coming through a fog. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that it nearly drowned them out. His voice sent a jolt
Abigail“Conrad Edward Remington!”Marceline’s sharp voice cut through the tension between me and Conrad, surprising the both of us. I turned towards the doorway of the study where she stood, her sharp eyes fixed on her son. Her usually elegant and serene demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of sheer outrage.Conrad stiffened, his face flushing red as his mother stepped into the study.“How dare you speak to your wife that way?” Marceline demanded, her voice laced with both reprimand and disappointment. “I did not raise you to be a man who throws such cruel words at the woman he vowed to protect.”For a moment, Conrad looked like a child caught stealing cookies from the jar, his mouth opening and closing without a word. I stood frozen, caught between shock at her intervention and relief that someone had come to my defense.“Mother, this is none of your business,” he finally managed to say, though his voice lacked its usual authority.Marceline’s sharp laugh filled the room, and she t
Abigail*For the first time, I saw something shift in his expression—something that looked almost like shock. Conrad stood slowly, pushing his chair back with a scrape that set my nerves on edge.“Stop joking around,” he said, his voice low and tense. “We’re not getting divorced.”I met his gaze, my voice steady despite the panic drumming in my chest. “Have you ever known me to make that kind of joke?”For a moment, his eyes burned with anger, but he quickly masked it, exhaling sharply through his nose. His jaw tightened, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to regain control.“What brought this on?” he ask
Abigail*Without a word to Susanna, I turned away and walked back toward my room. I didn’t need to look at her to know her sharp gaze followed me until I was out of sight, brimming with that contempt she wore like armor.As I pushed my bedroom door shut behind me, Marceline’s words came rushing back, relentless and sharp: “Abigail’s back here now, in her husband’s home. It’s time you returned to yours.”I let out a annoyed breath and sank onto the edge of my bed. Marceline thought I was back for good. That much was clear. And why wouldn’t she? Here I was, back under this roof… pretending.This was survival. I was here
AbigailAs I zipped up the last bag in my suitcase set and placed it against the others in the corner, I felt a relief at the knowledge that I was almost ready to leave this house and its suffocating weight behind.I glanced at my handbag, where the divorce papers I had gotten prepared sat neatly folded, tucked away like a secret. My hand twitched with the urge to pull them out and march straight to Conrad’s study to demand he sign them. But not yet. There were steps I had to take first. Before anything, I had to talk to Roxy. She would know if I could keep working at the company and stay at the house she’d taken me to when I had left this mansion the first time. I needed that stability now more than ever, for both myself and for my child.Everything I was doing, every step I took, was
AbigailThe sharp trill of my phone startled me, pulling me out of my unhappy thoughts. For one irrational moment, I thought it might be Conrad, calling from the study even though we were in the same house.But the name on the screen made my breath catch for an entirely different reason. Liam.I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the green button. Liam, my baby brother, with his easy smile and constant chatter, always so full of life. He didn’t call often—our lives had taken us in such different directions—but when he did, it was never without good reason.What reason could he have to call me now?I shook off the thought, forcing myself to press the button. “Liam,” I said, injecting a lightness into my tone that I didn’t feel. “Hey! It’s been a while.”“Bee,” he said, and my chest tightened at the familiar nickname. He was the only one who still called me that. His voice was warm, but there was an undercurrent of something else there—something worried. “Are you okay?”The question hit
AbigailI pulled away from Conrad’s embrace, the lingering heat of his body feeling like a brand to me. “This is… a lot to take in,” I said, making sure my voice felt fragile.He nodded, looking at me with concern. “I’m glad you insisted on seeing it for yourself, Abby. Now you understand why I’ve been doing all this. It’s all for you. To protect you.”I offered him what I hoped looked like a grateful smile. “I’m exhausted,” I murmured. “I think I’ll go to my room.”“Of course,” he replied, his smile much brighter than mine. “Rest as long as you need. I’ll tell the cook to make your favorite for dinner.”
Abigail“No,” I said immediately. “I’d like to see it now. You promised me, remember?”“Yes, I remember,” he shook his head playfully, as if he had expected I would say that. “This way,” he said, leading me toward his study.We reached the study, and Conrad unlocked the door with a small key he pulled from his pocket. He stepped inside first, turning on the lights, and I didn’t hesitate before following him in.The room was exactly as I remembered it—dark wood paneling, bookshelves lined with leather-bound volumes, and a massive desk that dominated the space. But what caught my attention was the safe in the corner. Conrad led me to the far corner, where the imposing safe was bui
Abigail“I’m not saying Susanna is lying,” I added quickly. “But you can’t expect me to believe something so... so extreme without any kind of proof. This is Alexander we’re talking about, Conrad. He’s been nothing but kind to us.” I shook my head in confusion. “Why would he go from that to… this? It doesn’t make sense. Right now, without any evidence, it feels like you’re asking me to take a leap of faith without a net.”Conrad sighed heavily, releasing my hand as he leaned back in his seat. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a nervous tick he probably didn’t realize he had. “I want to let you in on what I know, Abby. Believe me, I do. But I never wanted you to be dragged into this. Telling you would feel like the whole purpose of protecting you has been defeated. You were sup
AbigailThe nylon bag in my hand felt heavier than it should have, even though all it contained was a simple change of clothes and my phone which was all I had to pack here. As I stepped out of the bedroom, I almost collided with Conrad.“Abigail,” he said, his voice happy. His face was lit up as if he had just won some prize. Before I could step back, he wrapped me in a hug, his arms firm around me. “Are you ready to leave?”I nodded, the gesture small and noncommittal, but it was enough for him.“I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you coming back home,” he said, stepping back but keeping a hand lightly on my shoulder. “The house has been… empty without you. It’s lost