5. An intruder in my house

Reese POV

The day had barely begun, and I was already enveloped by a sense of desolation. The sunlight, which weakly filtered through the windows, made the world outside luminous, but within me, there was a growing darkness. The mansion, with its familiar scent of flowers, felt like the set of a movie where I didn't want to be. I was anxiously at the window, watching the gate, waiting for Elliot, but each second was a painful reminder of what had happened the night before.

Yesterday had been a whirlwind of events that starkly contrasted with the calm and monotonous days I spent in this house since marrying Elliot. It was an onslaught of discoveries and twists, and I simply spent the entire night thinking about it. I couldn't sleep because there was a fear growing in my chest.

After all, my husband had come home with another woman and was demanding a divorce, not to mention that Jennifer Durham had thrown herself down the stairs as a way to incriminate and accuse me. Just thinking about how that could have gone wrong for me made me tremble with fear, but the anguish inside me just kept growing. Knowing that Elliot had preferred to spend the night at the hospital with her made my heart bleed.

When Sammy woke up, his hair was a charming blonde mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep but shining with the hope of seeing his father. He came running, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor, and I lifted him into my arms, feeling the warmth and softness of his pajamas.

"Good morning, my little prince!" I said with a huge smile, smiling at him and trying to mask my fears.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?" his little voice, still hoarse from sleep, asked.

I kept smiling, trying to hide the pain I felt. "Daddy...? He had something important to take care of, my love. But he'll be back soon; don't worry." My words were a balm for him, but for me, they were a knife to the heart.

"Is he going to take me to play at the park today, right?" Sammy asked, full of expectation.

"Of course, my love. As soon as he can, we'll all go together," I answered and hugged him tightly, feeling his gentle scent that gave me peace, seeking comfort where I only found concern. It was sad to see my son going through this, not getting any attention from his own father because he was more concerned with his lover than with him and me.

When Elliot finally returned, it was already night; the sound of Jennifer's wheelchair wheels in front of him was like a distant thunder announcing a storm as he pushed it into the Goodwin mansion.

I was shaken, no denying it. I didn't understand why my husband was bringing her back here, but when I remembered Elliot's words from yesterday when he said he would trade me for her, it felt like a slap in the face. So was this really happening? Would Jennifer Durham come to live with us?

"Oh my God! Look at you, my dear. I'm so sorry, so sorry," Florence said, all emotional as she rushed forward to kiss Jennifer's cheeks, giving all her love to that woman.

I mean, had they forgotten that Jennifer had tried to frame me yesterday? Not only that, but I would have ended up in prison now if it weren't for the blessed security cameras...

"Reese, she has no one in London to take care of her." Elliot stepped forward, knowing he owed me an explanation, his face marked by concern and something else I didn't want to acknowledge.

I looked at Jennifer, fragile yet defiant in her wheelchair. "So she's staying here?" I asked, tasting the bitter flavor of defeat.

"Yes, until she recovers," he replied, and his words felt like an additional weight on my shoulders.

"I don't want to be a burden to anyone, Elliot," Jennifer said, looking at my husband as if she were innocent and remorseful.

Florence, always so cold with me, was there, ready to welcome Jennifer. "Oh, dear. Don't worry about that; you are very welcome here. We'll take good care of you," she said, her voice filled with a kindness never directed at me. "Reese, do something useful and make some tea for our guest."

The contempt in her voice felt like a hand squeezing my heart, but I said nothing, my attention returning to Elliot as he went upstairs.

I followed him to our bedroom, where the air seemed thick with tension. He was taking off his coat, revealing the white shirt I always loved to feel against my skin, but today he looked tired, clearly from staying up all night worried about Jennifer Durham's health.

"Be careful with what you say, Reese. I'm not in the mood to have any conversation with you right now," he said as he sat on the sofa in the corner and took off his boots.

"But what about Sammy? Can I talk about him?" I asked, a bit confrontational, and he looked up at me, impatient.

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick or something?"

"Does he have to be sick for you to show him any concern? He needed you here, Elliot. Do you think it's fair that he has to beg for your attention?" My voice came out in a whisper of pain.

He stopped and sighed heavily, clearly exhausted. "Reese, I was worried. She fell down the stairs; it could have been much worse."

"But what about us? And our son?" I insisted, feeling tears start to fall.

"I know, I know... I'm tired, Reese. I need a shower and to sleep. Can you understand that, please?" He stood up and tried to walk away, but I grabbed his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles through the fabric.

"Elliot, you asked for a divorce for her yesterday, remember? How do you think I feel now, seeing her here, in our home?"

He looked at me, finally, as if seeing me for the first time in days. "I wasn't thinking straight. I was... I am confused. But it doesn't mean I don't care about Sammy."

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat strongly. Was he really telling the truth? Was he reconsidering his idea of divorce? "Then prove it. Sammy needs to feel his father is present. He needs that, Elliot. And so do I."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, searching for words. "I'll find a place for Jennifer, a hotel or something. She won't stay here for long. Can I go take my shower now?" He was looking at me with those heavy eyes.

I swallowed hard and slowly let go of his arm. If only he had any idea how much he affected my feelings...

Moments later, I could hear the sound of the shower running from the bathroom. I was sitting there, thinking about his words, feeling a thread of hope starting to grow in me. The promise was a small relief, but the fear still consumed me so much...

So I decided to keep doing my best. I thought about preparing something nice for him to eat and relax, so I went back downstairs, but when I reached the living room, there was Sammy, offering a fresh bouquet of flowers to Jennifer, his innocent smile like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

"For you to get better, Jennifer," he said as if enchanted by her, and she thanked him, stroking his head.

"Oh, how thoughtful. Thank you, my dear," she said with that syrupy voice, and she smelled the flowers my boy had just given her.

I watched the scene, feeling my chest tighten. The anguish and fear wrapped around me like a heavy cloak. Seeing my son interact with whom I saw as my rival, someone who could destroy what little remained of my family, was a deep blow. My eyes filled with tears, not of anger but of a visceral fear for Sammy's future, for our future.