Chapter 4

VIELLA.

My mind was a whirlwind of uncertainty, my thoughts darting in a hundred directions.

The ache in my chest wasn't just from the small argument I'd had with Lance before he drifted off to sleep but from the haunting recollection of Hansel.

His gaze—cold, intimidating—lingered in my memory, its impact still potent despite all the years that had passed.

I shook my head, trying to brush the stubborn memory away. It's been years. Besides, he'd hurt me more than I would ever like to forgive him for. My crumbling marriage needed saving right now. Hansel should be the last person on my mind.

I had been pondering over Hansel's words for the past few days. I had also tried my best to heed his advice.

In the last five days, I'd visited Noralie three times. That was very unlike me. I'd also made a conscious effort to keep Lance from visiting her too often.

I glanced over at Lance, watching him sleep peacefully. The temptation to approach him, to reach out and make an advance tonight, was overwhelming. But fear held me back—the fear of being turned down yet again.

For the past week, he hadn't touched me. Every time I tried, he had some excuse: too tired, too busy.

I couldn't help but feel like I was slowly losing something vital in my marriage.

Had I done something wrong? Was I no longer attractive to him? What could it be? The questions haunted me. And the answers I might get scared me.

My fever wasn't helping, either. I could feel it wearing me down, but Lance hadn't even noticed. When I mentioned it earlier, all he did was casually suggest I visit the hospital to get checked.

I sat there, staring at him as he slept, the questions and doubts swirling in my mind.

The vibration of Lance's phone caught my attention, pulling me out of my restless thoughts. I squinted at the glowing screen.

Since when did Lance start putting his phone on vibration? I wondered, reaching for it where it rested beside his bedside. He was fast asleep, and I couldn't help but question what he'd been doing lately that left him so perpetually tired.

I glanced at the screen, and my stomach churned at the sight of the caller ID.

Noralie.

My fingers hesitated for a moment before I swiped and answered the call.

"Why the hell are you calling at this odd hour, Nora? What is it this time?" I demanded, unable to control the anger bubbling up inside me.

"Oh. I'm sorry for calling at this time. I... just wanted to speak with Lance..." Her voice was soft, almost timid, but I could still hear the nerve in her tone.

Lance? My blood boiled. Since when did Noralie casually call my husband by his first name like that? I scoffed, biting back the sharp words threatening to escape.

"What do you want to tell him?" I asked, forcing myself to sound calm. I'd deal with Lance later.

"Never mind," she said in the calmest voice imaginable, so calm that it grated on my nerves. "I'll just talk to him about it when he's awake."

Her composure only fueled my frustration. I couldn't even yell at her without coming off as irrational, which made my anger simmer hotter.

"Listen to me, Noralie, the next time you call my husband at this time, our deal will be off!" I snapped, summoning all the courage I had left.

But before I could say anything else, the line went dead. She'd hung up.

The sound of my raised voice woke Lance. His eyes fluttered open, groggy and confused, and I felt my stomach twist.

"What is going on, babe?" Lance rubbed his eyes, his gaze landing on his phone trembling in my hand. His expression darkened instantly. "What are you doing with my phone?" He asked, standing up.

I stared at him, every nerve in my body frayed. "Why does she still call you? Why is your phone on vibration now? Are you hiding something? Tell me!" My voice cracked under the strain of suppressed sobs.

"What the fuck are you talking about? This is insane. You're getting paranoid, Viella." He snatched the phone from my hand with a tight grip, his movements jerky. "This is a girl young enough to be my little sister. Come on!"

"Oh, please, spare me the trash!" I yelled, unable to hold back anymore. "Why does she have something to say but insists on saying it to you alone? You're not supposed to have any personal relationship with this girl, Lance!"

"I don't know!" His voice thundered back, the frustration rolling off him in waves. "How am I supposed to know what she wanted to say? Can't I have a moment of peace, Viella?" He turned abruptly, grabbed a pillow from the bed, and started toward the door.

"Now you can't even stand me?" I moved quickly, blocking his path, my voice trembling with raw emotion. "I need explanations. I'm going crazy, Lance! You hardly spend time with me at home anymore. You're always busy at work, coming back tired. You don't even care that I've been sick. But you care about her, don't you? About Noralie!"

"There you go again." His voice rose a notch higher, "Stop being selfish for once! You put me into this situation. Now I feel like I'm married to two women, trying so hard to balance my life, my job, and two women. You brought this upon us, Viella. Don't you dare put this on me." His jaw clenched as he jabbed a finger in my direction.

I was broken. His words hit really hard, and I felt the air leaving my lungs.

I felt something inside me snap. The pain, the frustration, the betrayal—it all spilled over. "You selfish, ungrateful bastard!" My voice broke as tears blurred my vision. "Don't blame this on me! Your witch of a mother put this on us! I—"

Before I could finish, a sharp, stinging pain shot through the side of my face. My hand instinctively flew to my cheek, where the sting of his palm burned hot.

Tears streamed down my face, but the ache in my chest was worse than the physical pain. “Lance? You… You hit me?” I looked at him, searching his eyes, but all I saw through my tear-filled vision was cold fury.

“Don’t you dare say such words about my mother ever again,” he hissed, “The next time you do, a slap won’t be the only thing you’ll have to endure.”