Abigail
I fastened the necklace around my neck, letting the cool metal rest against my collarbone as I studied my reflection. The earrings were already pinned to my ears. The jewelry Conrad had given me the night before sparkled in the morning light, a perfect complement to my plain dress. Despite everything, I wanted to feel put together, like myself. And this reminded me that above all else, my husband still thought of me.
Stepping out of the bedroom, I barely made it a few steps before Susanna’s voice rang out, sickly sweet. “Oh, good morning, Abigail!”
Her smile was bright, almost too bright, as her eyes flicked to the jewelry I wore. I gave her a polite nod, bracing for whatever comment she had prepared. “Morning, Susanna.”
AbigailI walked away from my room with deliberate steps, my fingers still tingling from the anger I had suppressed during my conversation with Conrad. The gall of his request was enough to make my blood boil. Yet, I hadn’t allowed my voice to rise. I couldn’t.But it still echoed in my ears. Lend Susanna my jewelry? The set he’d just given me last night as a token of his appreciation? Did he even hear himself?“Abigail,” Conrad called after me, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he hurried to catch up. It followed me even as I tried to walk faster. His hand closed around my arm, halting my steps. “Wait.”“Don’t walk away like this,” he said, his brows knitted togeth
AbigailI stared at the boy, his shoulder still clutched in mock pain as the security guards arrived, their authoritative presence immediately silencing the murmuring crowd around us. The noise of the crowd died down as they made way for the guards like Moses parting through the Red Sea. The teenage boy pointed at me as if I were a villain in a cartoon before launching into his dramatic story of lies. Tears even welled in his eyes.“She hit me,” he insisted, his voice loud and quivering just enough to sound convincing. “My arm—it hurts. I can’t even move it properly!”My jaw tightened as I glanced at Roxy, whose face was a mirror of disbelief. “This is ridiculous,” she hissed.But the
Abigail“I understand there’s been some confusion,” he said, his tone diplomatic.The officer in charge greeted them and stepped forward to explain the situation, and I saw Liliana’s face shift ever so slightly as she processed the details.“Oh dear,” she said with a gentle laugh, turning her attention to me. “It seems there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. We’re all family here, aren’t we? I’m sure it wasn’t anything inappropriate. Perhaps Harry was being naughty, and Abigail tried to discipline him? Boys can be such a handful at this age.”Her words were sugar-coated, but the implication was razor-sharp. My hands clenched at my sides as the officer&rs
Abigail“Abigail’s right.”Conrad’s agreement caught me off guard, so much so that I almost didn’t believe my ears. The surprise must have shown on my face, but I quickly masked it.Apparently, Susanna didn’t believe her ears as well, as her face twisted into a picture of wounded disbelief. She looked as if she'd just been betrayed by her most loyal supporter.“What?” she said, her voice high-pitched.“Abigail’s right,” he repeated firmly, turning to Susanna with a seriousness that had only been directed at me before and never her. “Harry is at an age where recklessness can lead to disaster. What if it had been y
AbigailThe house was quiet when I heard the soft creak of the door to the game room opening. I glanced up from the stack of cards I’d been sorting through, an old and forgotten deck I had owned since I was a pimply teenager in high school. It was a poor distraction, one I had tried to use to take my mind off things after returning from the fiasco at the police station. The repetitive shuffle and placement of the cards had offered a shred of calm that I couldn’t find anywhere else.Conrad stepped into the room, his tie loosened and his jacket draped over one arm. His face was shadowed with exhaustion, but there was something else there—maybe remorse? He hovered near the doorway, looking at me as though he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.“You’re up,” he said softly, his voic
AbigailThe robins outside my window chirped cheerfully as I got out of bed and stretched my tired body, but I was immune to their happiness. It was as if ice had settled over my heart as I realized Conrad was still not home. My night had been full of restless sleep and scattered thoughts, and now, as I padded toward the kitchen to make a cup of tea, the sharp ring of the study phone cut through the quiet.It rang once. Twice. No one answered.With a sigh, I turned toward the study. Conrad usually never left the house this early without checking in, but he wasn’t here now. Pushing the door open, I crossed the room and picked up the receiver.“Hello?” I said, clearing my throat so I didn’t sound sleepy.
AbigailMarcy’s expression didn’t falter, and for a moment, I wondered if Liliana had promised her something.Liliana sighed like the drama queen she was turning out to be. “This is a misunderstanding, I’m sure. Why don’t we calm down and figure out where the jewelry is?”“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped. “This isn’t a misunderstanding. It’s manipulation.”“Abigail,” Conrad said, his voice low, “let’s not escalate this.”I rounded on him. “Are you seriously questioning me right now? After everything?”“I just&md
AbigailThe air in the room shifted the moment Marceline entered. Her presence commanded the kind of attention no one dared ignore. She stood there, sharp and commanding, her gaze sweeping over us like a storm about to break. Her eyes landed on Liliana, lingering with the kind of intensity that could make even the boldest person stop in their tracks. Marceline’s lips pressed into a thin line as she turned to Conrad."And who, may I ask, is this?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the tense silence.Conrad cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Th Mother, this is Liliana. She’s Susanna’s sister and—”Marceline cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand, her gaze never leaving Liliana. “I
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
AbigailAs I pulled up to the dinner that evening, my determination wobbled like jelly. The house, with its grand columns and sprawling driveway, was lit with the soft glow of evening lights, but it felt nothing like home.“You said you’d go,” I muttered to myself. “You’re not a coward.” My stomach twisted as I sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. I could leave. I could turn the ignition, drive off, and call Marceline with some excuse—headache, sudden work emergency, anything to avoid stepping into that house again. But I’d given my word. And if nothing else, I always kept my promises.“You’ve faced worse, Abigail,” I added in a whisper, straightening my posture. “It’s just dinner.”It took several deep breaths, and a silent pep talk before I convinced myself to open the car door and step out. I smoothed the front of my emerald dress. It was understated but elegant, just enough to show I hadn’t come unprepared but not so much as to look like I was trying
AbigailThe scent of jasmine rice and lemongrass greeted me before I even saw the basket. It sat on my desk, pristine and perfectly arranged, a silent proclamation of Conrad’s devotion—or perhaps, guilt. My stomach twisted—not from hunger, but from irritation. The presentation was perfect, of course. Conrad’s gestures always were, shouting louder to the office than any declaration of love ever could.I felt eyes on me as I approached my desk, coworkers waiting for my reaction. Some tried to appear casual, others not bothering to hide their curiosity. Sylvia, seated just a few feet away, was the first to speak.“Well, well,” she drawled, leaning against her cubicle wall with an expression of poorly hidden admiration. “If my ex-husband had been half this romantic, maybe I wouldn’t have divorced him.”The bitterness in her tone didn’t escape me, nor did the envy that lingered beneath her words.I forced a polite smile, my fingers grazing the basket’s woven handle. “If you want a man like
AlexanderPresent DayMy estate home sat in a strange kind of quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful but expectant, like the air before a storm. I sat by the large window overlooking the driveway, the sunlight slicing through the curtains in golden streaks. A blanket covered my legs. The wheelchair carrying me had been carefully chosen for the role I was now playing. My wound had long since healed; I didn’t need the chair anymore as my leg no longer ached. But the wheelchair was a weapon now, a carefully chosen tool for deception.Florence, the head of my household staff, stood to my side, her tablet in hand. Her polished bearing betrayed a trace of concern as she delivered the news. “Sir,” she said, her voice soft. “The news of your rescue has been leaked to the family.”I nodded slowly, turning the chair slightly to face her. The golden light from the window cast shadows on her face, highlighting the faint worry lines on her brow.“Good,” I said, keeping my voice cool.“You
AlexanderTwo Months AgoAfter I took over the family business, I faced constant resistance. Many eyes were on the company, both openly and secretly. The endless deception became tiresome. The people I could trust grew fewer and fewer. Besides my loyal subordinates, the only ones I could rely on were my family.Or so I thought.The memory of it all haunted me. No matter how much time passed, I could still feel the bitter sting of betrayal, the bone-deep exhaustion of fighting for my life, and the lingering grief of a promise made to a dying man. It had started with Susanna’s message, a simple plea for help that had thrown me into chaos.I was in another city, halfway across the country, handling a deal that demanded my full attention. But the moment I saw her name on the screen, followed by the panicked plea for help, everything else faded into the background. Her message was brief but filled with urgency.Alexander, I need you. Please come.My gut twisted as I read them, imagining th
AbigailThe secretary’s announcement had barely finished ringing in my ears when she turned to Conrad and me. “You need to go to the scene immediately,” she added, her tone now turning brisk and professional. “I’ve already arranged for a company car. It’s waiting downstairs.”Without hesitating, I nodded. “Let’s go.”I moved toward the door, the news buzzing in my head like a bee around a flower. Alexander was back. A part of me still struggled to believe it. Just as I moved past Conrad, his hand shot out, gripping my arm to stop me in my tracks. “Wait, Abigail,” he said, his voice low and edged with frustration. “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here, in the company? In my office?”I turned to him slowly, disbelief washing over me. I had just answered him, hadn’t I? The reason was obvious, yet here he was, dragging me back into a conversation that was irrelevant with this news of Alexander. Then it hit me—Conrad didn’t even remember. It hadn’t even been tha
AbigailI glanced up at her, smiling faintly. “Conrad used to bring work home sometimes,” I explained. “I helped him out whenever I could. I guess I picked up a thing or two.”Her eyes softened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her brows knitting together briefly before she silenced it. “You’re doing great,” she said instead, her tone encouraging. “Keep it up.”As she walked away, I turned back to my work. For the first time in quite a while, I felt in control. Maybe this was what I needed. Space. Independence. A chance to remind myself—and Conrad—that I wasn’t just an ornament, waiting to be polished and displayed when it suited him.The morning passed in a blur for me as I worked. Even though I had only arrived that morning, my desk was already drowning under a sea of documents, leaving no room for my thoughts to be consumed by Conrad or the mess that had led me here. I was totally absorbed in my work until I he
AbigailAs I stepped out of the shower, the steam from my hot shower swirled around me and clung to the edges of the bathroom mirror. My damp hair clung to my neck as I grabbed another towel and began drying it absent-mindedly. I didn’t want to think about the file from the police station, Susanna’s smug words, or my horrible day. Not yet, anyway. I could feel the anger coiled up in my chest, just waiting for an excuse to explode. I needed this moment of peace and quiet.But even as I dried my hair, it didn’t last long. My phone, charging on wooden the bedside table, kept buzzing insistently. I frowned and tightened my towel around myself before padding across the room to see who it was, although I already had a good idea. The screen lit up with a familiar name as I picked it up. Four missed calls from Conrad. I stared at the notification, my stomach tightening. Conrad. Of course, it was Conrad.My lip curled as I opened the messages, skimming through a chain of text messages that app
AbigailSusanna ended the call with a smug smile, turning her attention back to me.“Oh, did you want to talk to him?” she asked, faking surprise. “Sorry about that.” She offered a mock apology, her tone so insincere it made my blood boil.Then, with her nose in the air, she sauntered out of the room, leaving me standing there, gripping the file from the police station in one hand and my phone in the other so tightly my knuckles turned white.My anger felt like a living, breathing thing, threatening to consume me. How dare Conrad do this? How dare he treat me like this? How dare he give me something Susanna had rejected, knowing fully well how I felt about her? My mind replayed every slight, every instance where I’d felt pushed aside or overshadowed since Susanna moved in.As I wrestled with my emotions, Marceline stepped into the room, her expression searching. From the apologetic look in her eyes, it was clear she’d overheard everything.“Abigail,” she began gently, placing a hand o