Calla's hand snaked into her purse, her fingers closing around the cool metal of the fruit knife. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she drew it out, her hand trembling. As much as she hated Mercer, the thought of actually stabbing him filled her with terror. He was so engrossed in tormenting her that he was oblivious to everything else. This was her chance. With a flick of her wrist, she yanked the knife out.His coat, thick and cashmere, would be difficult to penetrate. Her eyes darted to the open collar, to the glimpse of the sky-blue shirt beneath. It would have to do.Gathering all her strength, Calla raised the knife. With a steely resolve, she plunged the blade toward his right shoulder! The left, after all, was too close to his heart. She wanted to hurt him and teach him a lesson, but not kill him. She wasn't a murderer, and she certainly didn't want to spend the rest of her life behind bars. Her mind remained rational.The sensation that followed was sickening.
Mercer's mouth covered Calla's, silencing her protests. She made soft, muffled sounds as she struggled. He was a wild animal, driven by a primal rage. Calla felt a surge of panic, her blood pounding in her ears. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Shame and anger warred within her. Could this really be happening to her? Here, of all places?Just then, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The distinct click of heels on the tile was accompanied by the lighter steps of a child.Desperate to attract attention, Calla pounded on Mercer to break free from his grasp. But he was oblivious and wouldn't even bat an eye if a whole crowd of people entered at this moment. He was certain that whoever came wouldn't interfere with him.Outside, the woman with the child paused, her ear drawn to the muffled sounds coming from the cubicle."Mommy, what's that noise?" A little girl, no more than six or seven, tilted her head and asked.The woman listened for a moment, then quickly covered her
Mercer slid into the backseat of his Mercedes, his hand instinctively clutching his shoulder. Simon, about to close the door, caught sight of the bloodstain spreading across his shirt. His eyes widened in alarm as he exclaimed, "Mr. Garland, you're hurt!"Mercer waved it off with a careless gesture. "It's nothing, just a small wound."But Simon's gaze lingered on the wound, and he could see that it was deeper than Mercer was letting on. "How about we go to the hospital to get it treated?" he suggested.Mercer said in a commanding tone, "No. Take me home."Simon frowned, but he knew better than to press the issue. He quickly got behind the wheel and sped off toward Mercer's residence.Once they arrived, Mercer shed his jacket and carefully removed his shirt. Simon's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the deep gash on Mercer's shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding."Let me get the first aid kit," Simon said, hurrying off to retrieve it.As he cleaned and disinfect
"Then, I'll forgive you," Casper chirped, his eyes shining with childish innocence. He paused, his gaze falling on the bandage peeking out from beneath Mercer's shirt. "Daddy, what happened to your shoulder?"Mercer resorted to fabricating a story. "Oh, it's nothing," he said. "I ran into a crazy lady."Casper blinked at him. "A crazy lady hurt you? Why didn't you call the police?"Mercer scrambled for an excuse. "Well, you see," he began. "The crazy lady had a sweet little girl waiting for her at home. And if Daddy called the police, the little girl wouldn't have a mommy anymore."Casper considered this for a moment and nodded. "You did the right thing, Daddy."Then, he tugged at Mercer's leg and said, "Daddy, you promised you'd bring Mommy back today."Mercer's face fell as he listened. He gently stroked Casper's head, trying to calm him. "Mommy has to take care of your sister for a few more days. She'll come see you soon, I promise."As he said this, Casper pouted. "Mommy
Calla and Pierre had grown emotionally close, but she maintained physical boundaries. Apart from kissing and hugging, they hadn't explored a deeper intimacy. She was also cautious about breastfeeding which could reveal too much.As Pierre entered Calla's bedroom, he was greeted by the soft glow of a single wall lamp. The room was hushed, filled only with the sound of Clover's steady breathing.Noticing Pierre's arrival, Calla gently pulled herself away and tucked Clover in.Pierre craned his neck to glimpse the sleeping Clover before whispering, "Clover's asleep so early today?""Yes." Calla nodded with a smile.She didn't elaborate and was reluctant to mention her encounter with Mercer. She wanted to spare Pierre from worry and complications, given the tension between Mercer and Pierre.While Pierre never brought up Mercer in her presence, Calla also sensed his deliberate avoidance of the topic. She wondered why he was going out of his way to do that. The only explanation was th
Calla was determined to hold onto this man and the newfound stability Pierre offered. She wanted to secure it for herself and Clover as quickly as possible.She knew it was a selfish decision. She wasn't marrying him entirely out of love, after all. She and Clover were a huge weight on his shoulders. But Calla was at the end of her rope, and this seemed like the easiest path forward.She vowed to herself that she would love and cherish Pierre with all her heart. She would try her best to fall in love with him, to be faithful and true, to give him everything she had."What did you just say?" Pierre pulled back, his eyes wide with disbelief.Calla couldn't help but chuckle at his astonished expression. "I said, if you're not too busy after New Year's Day, maybe we could make it official." Calla blushed, a wave of heat creeping up her neck."Busy?" Hearing her confirmation, his face broke into a delighted grin. "Never too busy for that. How about March? Let's get married in March!"
Night had fallen, blanketing the world in a heavy silence. Calla could feel the heat of Pierre's passion, but it failed to ignite a spark within her own body. She wasn't responding the way a woman should in the throes of love. Not wanting him to suspect anything amiss, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.Her gesture only seemed to fuel his desire, but she couldn't fool herself, nor could she will her body to respond. As their intimacy reached its peak, Pierre abruptly pulled away.Calla opened her eyes, confusion clouding her features as she met his gaze."You're still not ready," he said, frowning."I—" Calla began, searching for the right words.But Pierre was already moving away. He seemed on the verge of leaving, his back stiff with unspoken emotion. "Pierre?" she called out, scrambling out of bed and catching his arm. "Are you angry?""No," he said, his voice soft, but his posture remained rigid."I-I think I was just a little nervous," she stammered.
As expected, Winona showered Clover with affection. She expressed her delight at the news of Calla and Pierre's upcoming wedding. But sometimes, when she looked at Calla, a flicker of concern crossed her eyes.Calla knew that Winona, ever the wise and perceptive woman, could see right through her. But she chose to play the part of the oblivious bride-to-be.Four days after Christmas, Calla and Pierre took Clover to visit her family. This time, Calla had been clever. She'd called Carol beforehand, learning that Zoey and Harlan had already visited on the day after Christmas. So, Calla felt confident that her visit would be free of any awkward encounters.The day went smoothly, and Calla couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. It seemed like she would have to carefully plan her future visits home to avoid running into Zoey.After the New Year, Pierre arranged for Calla to have a wedding dress fitting.Fiona had returned as well, so she stayed home to watch over Clover. Thus, Pier