CH.6

Maisie

The car pulled up to the grand villa, but I remained frozen in the backseat, unable to move.

I could still feel the pain, hurt and shame of the day’s event crushing down on me.

The rain finally started to let up. My clothes were still soaked through, clinging to my skin in an uncomfortable and suffocating way.

The coldness seeped into my bones, yet it wasn't the kind of cold that could be shaken off with a warm bath or fresh clothes. This was deeper, like the sadness had frozen my heart first and then spread out to the rest of my body.

I felt numb, empty, like I would never be warm again.

I finally managed to step out of the car without a word, ignoring the driver's concerned look as he held the door open for me.

Our ever-loyal maids rushed toward me the second I entered the house, their faces etched with worry and the polite, professional mask as though they didn't know how to handle me in this fragile state. 

I couldn't blame them though. I didn't know how to handle myself either. I was a mess, inside and out.

Part of me wanted to crumple into their waiting arms and let them take care of me. But the stronger part… the part that had been irreparably broken pushed them away.

"Mrs. Harding, please let me help you change into something dry," Greta said gently, reaching out to take my arm as though she was afraid I might collapse at any second.

Her touch made me flinch.

I shook my head and pulled away from her. "No," I whispered, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. It sounded hollow, empty. "I'm fine. Just...just leave me alone."

"But ma'am, your clothes—" Greta started to protest.

"I said I'm fine!" I snapped.

The maids all took a surprised step back.

I didn't care. The last thing I wanted right now was their pity party.

I couldn't bear to be around anyone, to let them see me like this.

The maids exchanged nervous glances but didn't argue further. They knew better than to push me when I was in this kind of mood.

With a few mumbled "Yes, Mrs. Hardings" they backed away, leaving me alone in the cavernous front hall.

I didn't give them a second thought as I turned and painfully made my way up the grand staircase to the third floor.

Each step was torturous like I was dragging weights behind me. By the time I reached my bedroom, the numbness in my bones fully settled in like a deep, penetrating frost.

I didn't even bother changing out of my wet clothes now. Why would I when it couldn't warm the ache in my soul? Nothing could make me feel warm and alive again after what happened.

I crawled into the plush king-sized bed and curled up under the sheets, not caring about the cold, damp fabric sticking to my skin.

I lay there frozen, blankly staring at the ceiling high above, trying to process everything that happened.

Did it really happen? Or was I having a very nasty, incredibly vivid nightmare?

The pain in my chest was growing more unbearable by the minute. It felt like something precious and invaluable inside me had shattered into a million pieces, and no matter how much I cried, how many tears streamed down my face, I couldn't put those pieces back together again.

That part of me was lost forever!

I turned and sobbed into the pillow until my throat was raw, until it felt like there were no more tears left to cry, until it felt as though the sadness, the anger, the betrayal, the humiliation was all drained out of me, leaving behind only a vast, empty hollowness.

I don't know how long I stayed like that, but at some point, the whole house grew quiet around me.

The only sound was the soft patter of rain against the windows.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could pass out and wake up to find all of this was some horrible, cruel nightmare. That when I opened my eyes again, Jason would be there, holding me, telling me he loved me. That he’d chose to spend our anniversary night with his wife instead of that blonde bimbo.

And that's when I felt it—his presence. The unmistakable energy that made my toes curl.

I didn't even need to open my eyes to know he’d quietly stepped into our bedroom.

I could always feel his presence from a mile away, sense the charge in the air when he entered a room.

Jason always carried this intense, magnetic aura around him that made my body tense and shiver with need even before I ever laid eyes on him.

The delicious, familiar scent of his cologne hit my nose and my lips parted involuntarily.

My heart clenched painfully in my chest, and I held my breath, waiting for...what? I didn't know! For him to speak? To come closer? To explain himself or...I don't know, apologize?

He stood by the door, unmoving. And for a brief, insane moment, I thought he might actually come closer, that he might say something. Anything.

But the silence stretched on painfully between us. My eyes remained closed, yet I could feel every rapid beat of my heart, and hear every inhale of my breath.

Finally, I heard him sigh—a soft, resigned sound that made my heart clench again. And then, without a word, he turned and left the room as quietly as he'd come.

He left me alone and hurting, just like he always did.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the emptiness crashed back down around me, suffocating me.

"Make sure she's taken care of," I heard his deep voice from down the hall, faint but unmistakable. His voice was cold and distant as it always was when he addressed the staff.

 "If she gets sick…” He trailed off.

"Yes, sir," the maid replied quickly in an obedient tone. He didn’t need to complete those words because his message was clear. They’d be in trouble if I got sick.

There was a brief pause, and then I heard Jason's footsteps fade away down the hall.

He was gone. Just like that.

Of course I was foolish to think he’d try to explain or apologize.

Jason was always like that—silent, detached, avoiding anything that might require him to come too close to me, to let down his guard. Even now, after everything that happened between us, he couldn't bring himself to touch me or speak to me directly.

That was my last thought before I finally drifted off into an exhausted, fitful sleep haunted by images of him with the blonde.