Chapter 2

I didn't know who to turn to. Didn't even know how to start explaining the wreckage of my life.

I slumped to the floor, numb, staring at nothing — until my eyes locked on that drawer.

Sebastian's nightstand.

The one he never let me touch. His little fortress of secrets.

Well, screw that. I was done respecting his rules.

I needed answers.

Dragging myself up, I stumbled to the kitchen and grabbed the heaviest thing I could find — a cleaver. The kind you use to break bones.

Back in the bedroom, I didn't hesitate. One swing, and the drawer's lock shattered.

Inside? A box of letters and an old poetry book.

They looked ancient, carefully preserved like some sacred relics.

My hands shook as I reached for the stack of letters.

I already knew what I'd find. Knew it would hurt.

But I couldn't stop.

Gritting my teeth, I yanked the letters out, one by one, and opened them.

[Dear Rainee,

I couldn't fight my family's wishes. They've arranged my engagement, and the wedding is next week.

I wish you were the bride.]

[Dear Rainee,

Forgive me for betraying you with my body. It pains me too, but for the sake of our child, I have to endure it in silence.]

[Dear Rainee,

Helena's pregnant. I'm humiliated. I took precautions — she must've done something to trap me.

Don't be angry. I've already bought the abortion pills.

I swear, you're the only woman I'll ever have a child with.]

[Dear Rainee,

It's done. The bastard child in Helena's belly is gone.

I even had the doctor tell her she'll never have kids again.

I've used that as my excuse to move into a separate bedroom.

I'll never have to force myself to touch her again.

I dreamed of you last night. I wish you'd visit me in my dreams again.]

[Dear Rainee,

It makes me sick to hear the boy call Helena 'Mom.'

One day, I'll make sure he learns the truth and tells it to her face.]

Disgusting.

Absolutely vile.

Everything — my marriage, my life, the family I built — had been a lie.

More than thirty years.

My head spun. Nausea twisted my stomach, and a rush of blood made my ears ring.

'Sebastian, you bastard!'

The letters shook me to my core. I couldn't calm down.

Stumbling out of the bedroom, I collapsed onto the living room couch. For the first time ever, I did something Sebastian would've called rude and improper — lounging without "decorum."

Well, screw decorum.

Fueled by anger, I shot up and looked around the house I'd lived in for over thirty years.

A modest three-bedroom house. My room? The smallest one, shoved in the farthest corner. Sebastian's master bedroom sat at the opposite end, like we lived on separate planets.

Because we did.

We were strangers under the same roof. Separate spaces, separate lives, barely touching.

Even the stuff in this house was divided.

Cups, plates, utensils — hell, even the damn chairs — all marked as his, mine, or Jack's.

I never questioned it. I just figured Sebastian was one of those neat-freak types who liked order.

But now?

I saw it for what it was.

To him — and to Jack — I was never family.

I was just the maid.

The one who cooked, cleaned, and kept them alive, but never crossed into their "real" life.

That's why everything had to be divided. Everything labeled. Everything kept separate.

Today was the first time I'd set foot in Sebastian's room, and only because of an emergency. Gigi, Jack's wife, had broken her leg in an accident, and I couldn't find him anywhere. I had no choice but to barge in.

Turns out, in this house I built, this life I'd devoted myself to, I'd always been the outsider.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

Gigi.

"Helena! Where the hell have you been? Why wasn't your phone on?" she snapped. "I'm about to go into surgery. Jack — that bastard — is too busy with work to help.

"Can you grab my stuff from home and bring it to the hospital? And get Sebastian to come too.

"I'm in so much pain, and there's no one here!"

Her tone didn't bother me. She was young, hurt, scared out of her mind. She broke her leg and was waiting for the surgery.

At the end of the day, it was still our family's responsibility to step up.

"I'm on my way. Don't worry," I said, keeping my voice steady. A few more calming words, and she finally let me end the call.

I sat there for a moment, pulling myself together.

No matter what had happened, I was still a mother.

Gigi had married into this family. She was miles away from her own parents, about to be wheeled into an operating room, and she needed someone.

That's what mattered.

Whatever grudges stood between Sebastian and me? They couldn't touch the younger generation.

Jack wasn't my flesh and blood, but that wasn't his fault.

I'd raised him with my own two hands and poured my life into him.

A child you raise is your child.

I glanced at Sebastian, still sprawled on the bed, unconscious.

"You bastard," I muttered. "If you're so determined to follow your first love to the grave, then do it right. Don't leave your mess for the living to clean up."

With a steadying breath, I got to work.

I gathered the scattered letters, stacking them neatly, wiping away any trace I'd been there.

When Jack came home, he'd assume Sebastian died of a sudden heart attack. Everyone knew about Sebastian's weak heart. No one would question it.

The broken drawer? I swapped it with the one from my own nightstand.

While sliding it into place, something caught my eye — a folded letter tucked in the upper compartment.

Curious, I pulled it out and unfolded the paper.

It was addressed to Jack.