Chapter 2: whispers in the Dark

(Evelyn pov)

I ended up the call with Vanessa, but something about her tone lingered in my mind, an implicit reluctance, a forced lightness.

Had I imagined it?

I dismissed the discomfort and reminded myself that this evening wasn’t focused on Vanessa. It was about us, Sebastian and I.

Our anniversary was nearing, and despite my husband being distant recently, I was set on reminding him of what we shared.

I inhaled deeply, pushing aside the rising uncertainty, and headed downstairs to see how the maids were doing. The home was already immaculate, the atmosphere fragrant with fresh roses from the arrangement I had set in the foyer earlier. The team had performed excellently, as usual.

In the kitchen, Maria, our head maid, was putting away the last of the dishes. She turned when she saw me.

“Ma’am, do you need anything?”

I smiled, even if it felt constricted. "You all can retire for the evening." "I'll handle dinner."

Maria took a moment to think. “Are you sure, ma'am?” "We can make something for Mr. Sebastian if you're interested.”

“No.” I nodded my head. “I want to cook for my husband myself tonight.”

She nodded, giving me a look I couldn’t fully understand before guiding the others out

The house fell into a deep silence.

I tied my flowery apron, pushing up my sleeves while I worked in the kitchen. Cooking has always been therapeutic for me. The rhythmic chopping, the rich scents of spices blending together, it grounded me. And right now, I needed that comfort.

I hoped tonight would be memorable, despite him returning home late for the last few weeks. Even if he hardly glanced my way anymore.

I chose his favorite meal, grilled steak, mashed potatoes with garlic butter, and a side of sautéed asparagus. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

Would he appreciate it?

Would he even notice?

I shook my head. Of course, he would. This is us. He loves me.

Right?

By the time everything was ready, I set the table with our best silverware. Two elegant white candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the dining area. I poured a glass of his favorite red wine and took a step back, admiring the setup.

It was perfect.

Now, all that was left was for him to come home.

So, I waited.

And waited.

The clock ticked past 10pm.

Then 11pm.

Then midnight.

My heart dropped while I stared at the untouched plate, the candle wax flowing down in slow streams. My fingers drummed nervously on the table, my stomach churning in knots.

Where could he be?

Sebastian never used to be this late. Even during his most hectic evenings, he consistently found a moment to at least reach out to me. However, recently he had been aloof, returning home late, evading discussions, dismissing me with reasons.

I grabbed my phone and called his number.

No response.

I tried again.

Still nothing .

A chilling discomfort lodged in my stomach.

Finally, at half past 12, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the house.

I jumped up, my heart hammering as I rushed to the foyer.

Sebastian stood there, appearing effortlessly polished in his fitted suit. His tie was untightened, his dark hair a bit tousled, like someone had just run their fingers through it.

A person who was not me.

He hardly gave me a look as he placed his briefcase down.

“You’re late,” I said softly, searching his face for any sign of guilt or remorse.

He shrugged. “I had a long day.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I made dinner.”

His eyes flickered toward the dining table, where the candles had burned low. The plates were still set, the wine untouched.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I already ate.”

The words cut deeper than I expected.

“Oh,” I murmured, forcing myself to smile. “Where?”

He hesitated. Just for a second. But I saw it.

“With a client,” he said, his voice smooth.

A lie.

I knew he was lying.

But I didn’t call him out on it. I just nodded and forced myself to swallow the hurt.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Without another word, he walked past me and headed upstairs.

I stared at his retreating figure, my hands clenched into fists.

My mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Was he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Was I imagining things?

Or was he hiding something?

I brushed aside the doubts. I was simply being overly cautious. He felt exhausted. The job had been demanding. That’s all it was.

Inhaling deeply, I tidied the uneaten dinner, stowed the candles, and served myself a glass of wine. I wasn't fond of red wine, yet I required something, anything to suppress the sinking sensation in my chest.

After a few minutes, I went upstairs. I had to have a conversation with him. To resolve this issue before it became unmanageable.

However, as I arrived at our bedroom door, I noticed a noise.

The gentle whisper of his voice.

The soft murmur of his voice.

At first, I thought he was talking to himself. But then I heard her.

A woman’s voice.

Muffled, low, but unmistakable.

My blood turned to ice.

Sebastian stood in the bathroom, the door cracked open, steam rising from the shower he had just turned on

I stepped closer, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“…you know I miss you.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“I hate being apart from you like this.”

The room started spinning.

Who was he talking to?

I clamped a hand over my mouth, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

The woman’s voice responded, but I couldn’t make out the words.

I shouldn’t be listening. I should walk away. Pretend I heard nothing.

But I couldn’t.

I had to know.

Then, Sebastian’s next words shattered whatever fragile hope I had left.

“Just a little longer, baby. I promise. I’ll fix everything.”

Baby.

He had never called me that.

My body went numb, my hands trembling as I pressed myself against the wall.

Who was she?

How long had this been going on?

Was it just one time? Or had he been lying to me for months?

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not yet.

I needed proof. I needed something.

Before I could finish the thought, my elbow knocked against the wooden dresser behind me.

A loud thud echoed through the room.

I froze.

The conversation stopped.

Silence.

And Then,

“Evelyn?”

Sebastian’s voice, sharp and alert.

My stomach dropped.

He knew I was there.