Chapter 8

Elizabeth

I hold Edward close, his little body warm against mine. He’s asleep, his tiny fingers wrapped around mine like he never wants to let go. I don’t want to let go either. I sit on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around us. The house is quiet, but my thoughts are loud.

I couldn’t go to the office today. Not with the bruises on my face and hands. They feel like a mark of shame, even though I know they aren’t my fault. The bruise on my cheek stings if I touch it. My wrist aches where he grabbed me.

I’m scared. For the first time in a long time, I feel truly frightened.

Not just for myself, but for Edward. How long can I protect him from this?

Maybe it’s time to call my father.

The thought makes my chest tighten.

I haven’t spoken to him in years. The last time I tried, he didn’t even want to talk to me.

He’d said I made my choice when I married Christopher, and that was that. If I called him now, he’d probably say, “I told you so.”

The doorbell rings, startling me. Edward stirs in my arms but doesn’t wake up.

I press a kiss to his soft hair and whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”

Before I can get up, the nanny rushes past me to open the door.

“It’s for you, Mrs. Bell,” she calls out, walking back into the living room.

I gently lay Edward on the couch, adjusting the blanket around him.

When I stand up, I freeze.

Sebastian.

He’s standing in the doorway, tall and serious, his dark eyes scanning the room before they land on me.

“Sebastian,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“ I blink, struggling to process his presence. “What... what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at the office,” he says simply, stepping inside.

I motion for the nanny to take Edward, my hands trembling as I lift him into her arms. “Take him to his room, please,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

When I turn back to Sebastian, he’s walking toward me. I take a step back instinctively. His presence feels overwhelming.

The tension between us feels thick, like the air is charged with something I can’t explain.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice softer now, but his eyes are sharp, studying me.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I just wanted to spend some time with my son.”

His gaze drops to my neck, where the edge of a bruise peeks out from my sweater. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against the tender skin.

“Did he do this to you?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous.

I pull back, grabbing his hand and moving it away. “It’s nothing,” I say, trying to sound casual.

“It’s not nothing,” he snaps, his tone sharp now. “Elizabeth, this isn’t okay.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say firmly, wrapping my arms around myself.

Sebastian takes a deep breath, his jaw tight. “Grab a coat,” he says, his voice steady but commanding. “We’re going for a drive.”

Something in his tone makes me obey without questioning him. I grab my coat from the rack and follow him to his car in silence. The drive is quiet; the only sound is the hum of the engine. My mind races, trying to figure out what he’s thinking and why he’s here.

The drive is silent, the tension between us is thick. I don’t ask where we’re going, and he doesn’t offer an explanation.

My thoughts race as I stare out the window, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Sebastian parks at a small park on the edge of the city. The trees are bare, their branches twisting like old, bony fingers against the grey sky. He leads me to a bench at the far edge, where we can see the city skyline stretched out before us.

“You can’t keep letting this happen,” he says, his voice breaking the silence.

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away. Why would he think I want this to happen to me?

“He wasn’t always like this, you know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian turns to look at me, his face softening. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Three years ago, he just... changed. He became angry, bitter. I don’t think he means to hurt me.”

Sebastian lets out a long sigh, shaking his head.

“Sometimes the people we love aren’t who they say they are.”

The way he says it so quietly makes me look at him. There’s something in his voice, in his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, curious for the answer.

He hesitates, his gaze fixed on the skyline.

“My wife, Sarah,” he starts, his voice heavy with sadness.

“She was having an affair.”

I stare at him, shocked. I never imagined Sebastian carrying something like this.

“I was so busy,” he continues. “So sure we were happy. I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

“What happened?” I ask, my voice soft.

“After Sarah died, I found her emails and her phone,” he says, his words like a punch to the chest.

“Oh, Sebastian,” I say, reaching for his hand.

“You see, the worst part was me finding out that she was in love with him,” he says, his voice breaking. “And he killed her.”

My breath catches. “Did you ever find out who he was?”

“Yes,” Sebastian says, his jaw tightening. “But I can’t reach him. Not yet.”

There’s a darkness in his voice that sends a chill down my spine.

He turns to me then, his eyes searching mine.

“Elizabeth,” he says softly, his hand reaching out to brush against my cheek.

I feel my defences crumbling under his touch, under the way he looks at me like I’m someone who matters.

“I haven’t felt this close to anyone in a long time,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. “That’s why it makes me so angry that Christopher is hurting you.”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. My heart is pounding, my mind racing.

“I can’t, Sebastian,” I finally manage to say.

But then he kisses me.

It’s soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, but I kiss him back, my hunger surprising even me. His warmth pulls me in, melting the walls I’ve spent years building.

I can feel His hands grip my waist, holding me close. I feel a spark inside me that I thought had died long ago. My fingers tangle in his hair as I press against him, desperate for more.

“Sebastian,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine. “You deserve better,  Elizabeth, he says softly.

Tears well in my eyes, and I close them, trying to block out the flood of emotions.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking the moment.

I pull it out with shaking hands.

It’s Christopher.