Abigail
His words struck me like a slap to the face, leaving me momentarily stunned and trying to make sense of what he had just said.
It wasn’t the words themselves that unsettled me—it was the man saying them. My brother, Liam, who had once left a final exam early because of a single emergency text about our mother, only to find out I’d already sorted the issue before he even arrived at the hospital. That was the kind of man my brother was— always putting family first. For as long as I could remember, there was nothing more important to Liam than Mom’s well-being, and I knew that better than anyone.
So why was he suddenly acting like a press conference organized by Conrad mattered more than me wanting to see our mother? Over the woman who had worked herself to the bone to raise us?
I opened my mouth to ask him that very question, but before I could speak, my phone buzzed in my hand, startling me. I glanced down, gr
AbigailThe shower did little to cool my temper. If anything, it gave me time to stew in the anger boiling in my stomach. My mind raced, running through every possible scenario, every hidden location where Conrad could’ve stowed my mother away. St. Mary’s Memorial was a dead end, and my gut told me it was possible wherever he had moved her to wasn’t even another hospital.Steam curled around me as the hot water poured over my skin, but my fury burned hotter. Conrad might think he had won because I agreed to go to the press conference, but he was sorely mistaken. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. I would find my mother, and when I did, I’d make him regret ever dragging her into this.When I stepped out of the bathroom, the air outside felt like ice against my skin, but I welcome
SusannaThe hallway felt colder than usual as I made my way to my room. My thoughts were like a stream that was flowing violently, swallowing me in waves of regret and paranoia. How could I have been so reckless?Liliana had warned me, her voice dripping with that irritating mix of wisdom and condescension she loved to wield. “Don’t confront Abigail while she’s in police custody,” she’d said. “Don’t risk leaving evidence. Be smarter than that.”But no, I hadn’t listened. I’d let Abigail’s words over the phone ignite a fire in me, one I couldn’t control. And then I had been stupid enough to storm down to the polic
SusannaLiliana didn’t miss a beat. “Stop. Don’t say another word over the phone. Come to my house. Now.”She hung up before I could respond, and I stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen, her clipped tone replying in my ears. Liliana never panicked, but even she sounded tense, and that only made my anxiety worse.I quickly changed into something casual, a plain dress and flats, and slipped out of the house without a word to anyone. The drive to Liliana’s felt like an eternity as my eyes looked at the road but not really seeing anything. How had Alexander gotten the report? Was there someone else involved? And if he knew… God, if he knew, what would happen to me?
AbigailThe moment my heels touched the pavement, chaos broke out.Shouts. Questions. Camera flashes. A deafening cacophony crashed over me like a tidal wave, swallowing me whole before I could even take a breath to steady myself."Mrs. Remington, is it true you leaked the video yourself?""Abigail , did you know your husband was cheating on you?""Is it true the Remington family is trying to cover this up?""Are you pregnant?!"The last question made me whip my head around to find who was asking it but all I saw was a sea of people yelling and raising cameras. I barely had time to react before the next flash went off, blinding me. The sheer aggression of the reporters was suffocating, their bodies pressing forward, their cameras inches from my face.For a moment, I stood frozen. I hadn't faced this level of scrutiny in years—not since the early days of my marriage, when I was nothing more than the new bride of Conrad Rem
AbigailThe makeup artist’s fingers finally went still, her professional demeanor relaxing. “Alright, Mrs Remington,” she said, offering me a smile. “You’re presentable.”Conrad’s hand landed on my shoulder, a possessive gesture that sent a shiver crawling down my spine. It looked like support, like a husband’s gentle reassurance. But I knew the truth. His fingers dug into my flesh, a silent warning.Don’t you dare, Abigail. Don’t you dare deviate from the script. Don’t you dare shatter this carefully constructed illusion.He escorted me to the stage, his smile perfectly practiced. The cameras flashed in rapid succession. The conference room wasn’t huge, but it felt like a cavern whose walls closing in on me. It was packed with reporters, a sea of faces all turned towards me, their eyes glinting with morbid curiosity. They weren't looking at
Abigail*As we’re driven home from the conference venue in silence, Conrad’s jaw was clenched so tight that a muscle near his temple throbbed. with each passing second. I don’t need to look at him to know that his hands are probably balled into fists as he struggled to keep his temper in check.Maybe his obvious show of irritation is meant to intimidate me, but I couldn't care less. I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal – I’ve cleared his name and painted the perfect picture of our marriage. And now? I just want to go home.Finally, the car slowed to a stop outside my mother’s house but my comfort at seeing it was dulled by Conrad’s unspoken anger. The driver stepped out to open my door, but before I could move, Conrad grabbed her wrist, his grip tighter than a vice.His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it dripped with venom. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”I turned to him with a calm face but my heart was pounding in her chest. “Let go of me, Conrad.”But he didn’t. His grip t
Abigail*"This isn’t what we agreed on. I said I want to see my mother," I hissed, each word slipping through gritted teeth like venom. The taste of rage was bitter on my tongue, but it was nothing compared to the boiling fury tightening my chest.Conrad didn’t even flinch. His eyes—those emotionless pools—bored into mine. “You already have.”I stared at him, unblinking. “Oh, really?” I spat, letting sarcasm drip from every syllable. “Because last I checked, a video isn’t the same as seeing my mother in person. Or do you need a dictionary for that?”His jaw clenched, that te
Abigail*I stood in front of my closet that morning longer than I should have, my fingers grazing the fabric of my clothes. It was an understatement to say that I was undecided, and it was eating at me. Today wasn’t just any other day. Today was the day I finally got some control in my life, or at least pretended to. After all that had gone down yesterday, I couldn’t afford to appear like the weak, betrayed woman I had been painted to be.Not in front of Conrad, not in front of the company, and certainly not in front of the vultures who called themselves the press, who would be waiting to see if I’d crumble.In the end, I settled on a crisp white blouse tucked into tailored black trousers, the sharp lines giving me an edge I desperately needed. My hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and I applied just enough makeup to look polished without appearing like I was trying too hard. The reflection staring back at me looked composed, profes
AbigailI froze mid-sentence, lifting my head slowly to look at him. He was still at the front of the room, but now his arms were crossed loosely over his chest, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.“And here I thought,” he added, dripping with false politeness, “that only those formally invited had something to contribute.”A few people shifted in their seats. A few glanced at me. I could feel the weight of their eyes, the tension coiling in the air.Conrad was trying to embarrass me and put me back in my place.I leaned forward, pressing the button on the microphone in front of me. My voice was cool. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Remington.”I started t
AbigailInternally, I whooped and punched the air in victory. But outwardly, I gave Mr. Hayes a serene, practiced smile, the kind that said I'm glad to be here, not desperate to be here. “Thank you again,” I said politely, then stepped out of his office before my excitement bubbled too far to contain.Ten o’clock was only forty minutes away. Not enough time to start anything new, but just enough to make myself useful. I returned to my office, where Elle was already tidying up the documents on my desk.“Anything urgent?” I asked as I approached.She handed me a printed memo and gave me a quick update on a postponed meeting. “Only thing worth noting is
AbigailThe smell of the food filled the entire room, and something about the presence of Alexander beside me dulled the tightness I’d been carrying all day. The tension behind my eyes had started to fade as I picked at the grilled fish, letting the flavors roll across my tongue, my limbs slowly unknotting with every bite.“I’ve been getting calls from Liam,” I said, my voice tired but audible. I didn’t know why I chose now to bring it up; maybe because I finally felt safe enough to say it out loud.Alexander’s hand stilled mid-motion, his chopsticks hovering above the container of scallops. “Liam?” His eyes flicked to mine, sharp. “How long?”I nodded and swallowed. “It’s been a few times now. He says he’s changed and keeps asking to see me.”His brows drew together, and I could see him piecing something together. “He’s been coming to me too and asking to see you.” He paused. “He’s not been released from Ridgewell officially, but this is part of the treatment program; they release so
Abigail I didn’t know where I was going, I just kept driving. One street turned into another and headlights flashed past me in a blur. The city was quietly winding down while something restless stirred in my chest. My fingers were clenched so tight around the steering wheel, they ached. I told myself I would find a hotel. Or maybe I would go to Roxy’s, even though it was too late and she’d worry. But the truth was, I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I wasn’t thinking at all.I just didn’t want to go home.And somehow, without meaning to, I ended up here. The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the tall, glittering building before I fully realized where I was. I blinked up at it, dazed and slightly breathless, my stomach twisting into an uncomfortable knot. I knew this place; it was the high rise I had met Alexander before we went to Ridgewell to see Liam. The lights shimmered against the glass like stars in a city that forgot what the real ones looked like. But I wasn’t looking at
AbigailAfter work, I found myself walking to the park instead of driving straight home.I told Roxy I’d leave early today, mostly because she looked ready to duct-tape me to my chair if I didn’t. But now that I had, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My body wasn’t worn down enough, and that small sliver of energy still lingering in me made me restless. If I’d had my way, I would’ve stayed in the office till one a.m., working until even my thoughts couldn’t keep up with me anymore. But Roxy had been especially worried lately. So, I’d smiled, packed up, and walked out like someone who had a life waiting for her outside those walls.I didn’t.So, here I was, wandering through the park with my coat still buttoned, my shoes making soft sounds against the path. The air was crisp but not cold, and the faint scent of blooming grass and wet earth filled my lungs. It was peaceful, in a way that made the ache in my chest feel sharper.To my left, I noticed a picnic spread out on a checkered
RoxyAnd yet he always asked as if he had nothing to do with it. As if it wasn’t his driver who opened the door for me, or his expense account that covered the seafood platter I’d been daydreaming about since 3 p.m.I settled in, crossing one leg over the other. What I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what I never could was how a man like Alexander could share even a single drop of blood with someone like Conrad.Conrad Remington, the walking ego. The emotional toddler. Every time I thought about him, it made me want to demand a DNA test on Alexander’s behalf. Maybe they swapped cribs at the hospital. Maybe one of them was adopted. Maybe God just wanted to play a particularly cruel practical joke.Still, why was I thinking about Conrad with what was in front of me?Sitting beside Alexander was one of the most delicious motivations I’d ever had for showing up anywhere on time; Daniel Woods, his secretary. The tall drink of sin I’d been lowkey thirsting over since the first moment I l
RoxyI yawned so hard I swore my jaw cracked. My screen dimmed in front of me, signaling the finality of another day. With a satisfying click, I shut down my computer and sat back in my chair, allowing myself a tiny internal cheer.Done. All of it. Not only had I cleared every task on my to-do list—emails, reports, that ridiculous revision James from Marketing demanded this morning—I had also accomplished the almost-impossible: I’d managed to convince Abigail to leave on time. No 11 p.m. grind, no haunting the office like a lonely ghost with the cleaning crew. She actually packed up and went home like a normal person. That was a victory in itself.I stretched my arms above my head and yawned again, this one longer. All I wanted now was to kick off my heels, boil water for some scandalously sodium rich ramen, and fall asleep in the middle of an episode of Love & Lies: Southside Edition. It was my guilty pleasure, that trashy little reality series with way too many slow motion breakups
AbigailI told myself not to let that reflection haunt me. It was just a slip. I had slept poorly last night and barely remembered to eat breakfast this morning. I was tired, yes. A little thinner? maybe. But I wasn’t broken. I wouldn’t let my own reflection, however unfamiliar it seemed, get to me.By the time I returned to the office, the feelings of listlessness still clung to me like damp clothes, but I pushed through. I had too much to do to afford even a second of moping. The artificial white lights overhead buzzed softly as I walked through the open-plan floor, sandwich bag in hand, ignoring the curious glance Elle shot me from her desk.She didn’t say anything. But the slight furrow in her brow and the tight purse of her lips told me exactly what she was thinking.She didn’t like that the small bag in my hand was far too small for the elaborate meal she had wanted me to return with. I sat down without acknowledging her and unwrapped the sandwich like it was the key to world pe
“You don’t have to stress yourself over me,” I said quietly, watching Elle storm around like a small, angry thundercloud. She spun around sharply, her eyes flashing. Before she could say anything, Roxy stepped forward. Without a word, she pulled her credit card from her pocket and thrust it toward me. “Go get lunch,” she said, her voice firm. “Anything you want. Expensive, greasy, complicated, I don’t care. But when you get back, I better see a substantial charge on that card, or I swear I’ll put you on forced vacation.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Roxy narrowed her eyes at me like a predator eyeing its prey. And Elle looked like she’d physically drag me to the nearest restaurant and force feed me if I dared say no. So I just nodded, accepting the card with quiet obedience, even though I felt like a child being scolded by two very determined mothers. I grabbed my bag and left the office, their combined gazes hot on my back, daring me to come back empty-stomached. As I stepp