Inside, the dining room buzzed with conversation. A long table stretched down the center of the room, groaning under the weight of a feast. Platters heaped with roasted meats, glistening vegetables, and golden-brown bread filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma. I found my seat amongst Regan's family on the right side of the table.
As the clinking of silverware and polite chatter filled the room, the conversation inevitably shifted towards us. My mother-in-law, her face creased with a wide grin, leaned towards me.
"So, Anastasia, when are you two lovebirds going to give us a little grandchild to spoil?"
A blush crept up my cheeks, warming my face like a summer sun. I stole a glance at Regan, but his attention remained fixed on his plate, his expression unreadable.
"We're working on it," I replied with a shy smile, "Hopefully it won't be too much longer."
My words were met with a chorus of delighted gasps and excited chatter.
"Oh, that's wo
My eyes fell upon a horse tethered nearby, a magnificent brown stallion. Almost on autopilot, I moved towards it, untying the lead rope with shaking hands. Swinging myself onto its back, I urged the horse forward.I needed to get away.Kicking the horse into a gallop, I rode towards the familiar sight of the forest. The trees blurred past me as I pushed the horse harder, the wind whipping through my hair and stealing my tears. Reila's words echoed in my mind, each one a cruel arrow piercing my heart.Deep within the forest, far from the mansion and the judging eyes, I finally reined in the horse. Dismounting, my legs gave way beneath me, and I sank to the ground, leaning against the rough bark of a tree."It's fine," I whispered, "It's all fine."But the lie tasted like ashes in my mouth when Reila's words, dripping with smug satisfaction, replayed on a loop in my mind. "It's not fine, fuck it is not" I choked out, a sob escaping my lips. Tears streamed down my face now. "I’m not fin
The cool evening air kissed our wet skin as we found ourselves emerging from the lake, our clothes clinging to us. The moonlight filtered through the trees as the sounds of the forest surrounded us. Suddenly, Regan caught my waist, and I squealed as he pushed me back against a tree. My hands landed on his shoulders as if I were going to push him off, but I didn't.“Regan,” I breathed, my heart pounding.“Hmm?” he murmured; his lips dangerously close to mine.Before I could say anything else, he leaned forward and kissed me. My heart leaped, my skin tingled, and my traitorous body gave in to his demand. I was supposed to be angry at him. I was supposed to be shoving him off and telling him to stay away from me. Telling him I hate him. But instead, I found myself pulling him closer, my hands fisting in the material of his shirt, my lips parting to admit his tongue.A groan of desire escaped him, the heat of his kiss lighting me up from within. I gave up any thoughts of pushing him away.
"What will you do today?" I asked Regan as I closed our bedroom door behind us. I was in a good mood, and he seemed relaxed, which lightened my heart after the events of last night. I could sense that Regan cared for me at least a little.He had his hands tucked in his shorts pockets as he shrugged in response. "I don't know. I think Mom has plans for us later."I nodded, grateful that he wasn't responding with just one word or being distant. That small gesture was enough for me. "Do you think we can go to the town sometime? I really want to see it."As we descended the staircase, walking side by side, he answered, "Yeah, I can bring you there."I smiled, feeling excited at the prospect. But as we reached the bottom of the stairs, my joy turned to shock. I froze in place as I beheld the sight before my eyes. Why couldn't I have a peaceful life? Just why?There stood Zarina, with her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a floral sundre
Soon after, breakfast was called, and the grand dining room bustled with activity. Even the children, usually bouncing with morning energy, were present around the expansive table. But to make matters worse, Zarina, sat directly across from me and was busy chatting animatedly with Reila. But her subtle gaze with Regan who was on my right didn’t go unnoticed.I, on the other hand, found it difficult to muster even a polite smile. My stomach churned with a fit of anger.At the head of the table, Richard's gaze swept across the assembled family members before landing on a man who sported a yawn and a simple shirt, his demeanor radiating an easy-going charm. He has a lean build, light brown hair, tousled in a carefree manner, and hazel eyes."Paul," Richard called, "where's young Ethan this fine morning?"Paul chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, the little rascal's busy constructing some elaborate Lego masterpiece. Had to get him started early t
“Speaking of traditions,” Zarina cut through the chatter, her gaze sweeping across the table before settling on Caroline, “can we still go berry picking today?”Her sweet voice almost sounded forced in my ears.Excitement swept through the room. Everyone seemed eager at the mention of berry picking, a tradition I was apparently unaware of.“Berries?” I asked, trying to sound casual.Zarina turned her smile toward me, a hint of something smug in her eyes. “Didn’t Regan tell you?” she said with fake innocent surprise.“There’s nothing special about that,” Regan replied, his eyes on Zarina as if to warn her or something.“But you hold it so dear in the past since it was Zarina’s favorite place,” Reila added, smirking.One of their cousins chimed in, “Do you remember Zarina’s face when she finally filled her basket? She was so proud!”"She thought it was like her biggest achievement when she was the last one to do that"
An hour or two crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing in the empty room. Slowly, I took a deep breath, willing myself to pull it together. Fighting back the lingering tears, I splashed water on my face, hoping to erase any evidence of my breakdown. A quick look in the mirror confirmed my eyes weren't bloodshot anymore. Reaching for my red lipstick, I swiped it across my lips. A final touch of red on my nails completed the transformation. Staring back at me was a woman who looked strong, unbothered, anything but broken.That's exactly how I wanted them to see me.Downstairs, the sounds of the mansion bustling back to life pulled me from my self-imposed exile. The family was preparing for their berry picking. Taking a fortifying breath, I ventured downstairs.The sight that greeted me was a sea of smiling faces, all gathered with baskets in hand. But something about those smiles felt forced. Living amongst these wealth
Dust motes danced in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the lace curtains. I was standing on the porch, waiting. My attention was snagged by the hushed whispers coming from behind me.Peeking out, I caught a glimpse of two maids, their uniforms crisp."Did you see her?" one, a young woman with bright, curious eyes, whispered. "Sir Regan's wife? Yes. God, she’s so gorgeous. Now, I know why Sir Regan married her?”The other, older and more wizened, scoffed. "Hardly wife material, if you ask me. All stiff and proper, not a smile to be found. Remember Miss Zarina?"“Yes”“Now that was a perfect match for Mr. Regan. They used to laugh together all the time. Always running through these halls, picking flowers, stealing kisses in the garden…"“Really?”"They were like two peas in a pod," the older maid sighed. "Such a shame things didn't work out."I took a deep breath and ignored them but failed anyway. Their words were engraved in my mind.Soon after, the chatter and laughter grew lo
I sighed as I glanced out the window, watching Regan, Zarina, and his cousins laughing and drinking outside. The middle-aged group had decided to go out on the lawn and have a bonfire there. I wanted to join them, but I knew it would be awkward. Besides, I didn't drink beer—I never liked the taste. Feeling a bit parched and seeing that it was already 8 PM, I decided to head down to the kitchen for a drink.As I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see a young boy standing near the microwave. It was Ethan, a quiet seven-year-old who rarely spoke or joined the other children. His face was still adorned with a pair of thick eyeglasses. I was sure the other kids were in the movie room with their nannies right now.I frowned, remembering that the boy was not at the dinner earlier. Seeing him alone now, I wondered why he wasn't with the others. I watched as he fiddled with the microwave, sighing to himself while his other hand was holding his iPad. With a gentle smile, I walked over