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2: Morning after shock

Author: Fallenwild
last update Last Updated: 2024-11-10 23:09:51

I opened my eyes, feeling the sting before I even tried to move. The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, too bright, almost mocking. My body ached in places I couldn’t name, and the sheets felt like a trap, suffocating me. I glanced to the side, half-expecting to see Marco still lying there, but he was gone. Of course he was gone.

I forced myself to sit up, wincing as I felt the bruises starting to form. My mind wandered, replaying fragments of last night, but I pushed them away. I wouldn’t break now, not over him. But when I stood, each step across the bedroom felt like a betrayal. This room, these walls—they used to feel safe.

I stumbled out of bed, holding onto the wall for support as I made my way through the room. The house, once warm and filled with love, felt foreign and cold now.

I quickly showered and changed avoiding the mirror all through.

I passed by the nursery—the room we’d painted together when we were happy, laughing, believing in a future that now seemed absurd. I stopped at the doorway, taking in the small crib, the soft, pastel walls, the little stuffed animals arranged just so. I could still remember the soft blue we’d chosen, the careful arrangement of furniture. But it was empty. I was empty. No child, no future. Just me, standing in the hollow shell of the life I thought I’d have.

I heard footsteps, heels clicking against the floor, and then Helena appeared. She didn’t waste a second, her sharp eyes taking in my disheveled state with an icy disdain. Helena looked immaculate as always—dyed blonde hair perfectly coiled, a stiff designer dress hugging her figure. She gave me a pitying, almost amused smile with her red lipsticked lips.

“Oh, Estella,” she sighed, as if speaking to a misbehaving child. “What on earth were you thinking. Did you really think you could keep him happy like this?”

My mouth opened, words on the tip of my tongue, but she held up a manicured hand.

“I mean, look at yourself. No heir, no… spark, apparently.” She gave me a slow, critical once-over. “A wife should know how to keep her husband satisfied.”

I felt my face flush, and I fought back the sting in my eyes. “What do you want Helena. I don’t need a lecture from you right now.”

She raised an eyebrow, a thin smile curving her lips. “Of course not. You probably need more than that—a break, maybe?”

I bit back a reply, but then she leaned in, voice dripping with mock concern. “Poor thing. I hear Claudia’s expecting. Isn’t it wonderful that she can… fulfill the role you couldn’t?”

She smirked, then added with a vicious sweetness, “Perhaps if you’d given him an heir by now, things would be different.”

“Is that all you came here to say?”

“No, dear.” She took a step closer. “I came to remind you of your place. Which is out of this house. You are leaving this instant.

I clenched my fists, swallowing the rising fury, but before I could respond, I heard footsteps approaching—Marco, arm in arm with Claudia, the two of them looking as polished as if they’d just stepped out of a magazine. Claudia, with her Barbie-like features and sickeningly sweet smile, rushed into Helena’s arms like they were some perfect family. The three of them acted as though I were invisible.

Oh, Claudia, look at you. Glowing,” Helena cooed, her fingers placed on Claudia’s stomach, as if she could feel the baby. “How are you feeling, darling. And the baby?

“Growing strong,” Claudia said, casting a sly, sidelong glance at me, her hand resting possessively on her stomach. “Thank you for asking, Helena. Marco’s been such a support. I don’t know how I’d do this without him. It’s so good to have people who… care.”

I felt the words like a punch. She was openly taunting me now.

Helena chuckled “Oh I raised that boy right”.

Helena turned to me, her gaze cold and final. “Estella, it’s time for you to go.”

I glared at Marco. “So, this is how it’s going to be?” I asked, voice shaking.

Claudia tilted her head, feigning concern. “Oh, Estella, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take up Marco’s time last night. You know, we were… discussing the baby.”

The room spun, and I could barely breathe. But Helena wasn’t finished.

“Estella,” she said with cold satisfaction, “this family has no place for you. You’ll be served divorce papers shortly, and I expect you to leave without making any trouble.”

I stared at her. “You’re… you’re serious?”

She smirked. “Deadly serious. I’ve already arranged for security to search your things. Can’t be too careful, can we?”

Two security guards stepped forward, their expressions blank as they waited for Helena’s nod. They approached me, hands outstretched.

“Don’t touch me. I don’t have anything of yours!” I shouted, backing away

I recoiled as one of the guard approached, his expression unreadable. He patted down my arms, shoulders, back, finding nothing. Just as I thought the humiliation was over, Claudia stepped forward, grabbing my blouse.

“Wait—” I started, but she pulled hard, the fabric tearing as I stumbled back, landing on the floor. My chest was exposed, but the worst part wasn’t even the humiliation. It was the way Claudia’s face twisted in satisfaction as she looked down at me.

“I knew it,” Claudia sneered, gesturing to a golden watch that had suddenly appeared on the floor beside me. “Mother, she tried to steal my watch.”

I stared at the watch in disbelief. “That’s not mine!” I shouted, voice breaking, but no tears came. “She’s framing me. This… this is ridiculous!”

Claudia gave a dramatic, pitiful look to Marco. “This watch is a limited-edition Bellemonté, from my late grandfather. I can’t believe she would just take it.”

Marco stepped forward, his face a mask of cold disdain. I could feel my control slipping, my anger bubbling up. “Enough,” I spat.

I pushed myself up from the floor, rage bubbling over as I lunged for her. “You lying witch! You stole my husband, my life, and now you’re trying to pin this on me?”

My hands went for her blonde hair, yanking it hard as she shrieked, clawing back. Marco pulled me off her, shoving me to the floor again as Claudia collapsed into his arms, clutching her stomach with fake tears.

“My baby! My baby!” she cried out, turning to Marco with wide, fearful eyes. “She killed my baby!”

His face softening as he cupped her cheek. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?

“I hope this stress doesn’t affect the baby—my baby.” She kept whimpering.

Helena’s heeled foot came down hard across my stomach, the sting of it searing. “You heartless monster,” she hissed, voice venomous. “You’d harm my grandchild, all because you can’t bear one yourself.”

She snapped her fingers, calling for security again. Roger the head security stepped in, his face unreadable but his eyes flicking briefly to my torn blouse, my red cheek. Helena nodded to him with cold authority. “Get her out. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, stepping forward. I turned away, clutching the torn strap of my blouse, trying to hold on to whatever dignity I had left.

Marco’s whole attention was locked on Claudia, his hand protectively covering her stomach. He didn’t even look at me as security took hold of my arm, leading me toward the front door.

Outside, the household staff lined the hallway, their eyes following me as I stumbled forward, clinging to the shreds of my blouse. Roger followed, then paused, removing his jacket and draping it over my shoulders without a word. I muttered a faint “thank you,” feeling the burn of humiliation deep in my chest.

I reached the front gates, and Roger quietly hailed a taxi, watching as I shook my head. “No, I—I’ll walk,” I managed, voice hoarse. I didn’t have a cent on me.

He pulled out his wallet. “I’ll cover it, ma’am.”

No.” My pride flared up. “I’ll walk.”

He sighed but didn’t push, and just as I was about to start down the road, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Grace, the housekeeper, coming out. She held a small purse and a suitcase, her kind face lined with sympathy. She couldn’t speak—she was deaf—but she held up a notepad where she’d scrawled a message in her neat, looping handwriting.

I packed a few things for you. I’m so sorry, Estella.

Tears pricked at my eyes. I hugged her, letting the warmth of her kindness seep into my bruised soul. “Thank you, Grace.

You’re stronger than this. Don’t let them break you.

I swallowed hard, nodding as I stepped into the taxi, clutching the purse. As it pulled away, leaving the grand house behind me, the tears finally spilled over, free to fall where no one could see.

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Begoña Sáez
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