Chapter 2
660 Words
I didn’t move. My foot stayed pressed to the step, waiting for another sound. But the kitchen below was silent.
I forced myself to walk the rest of the way down. When I entered, Raiven was leaning against the counter with a glass of water in his hand. Lyraen stood by the sink, her golden hair falling loose around her shoulders, her smile faint but calm.
They looked too composed, like nothing had happened. Like they hadn’t been whispering about me.
“You’re still awake?” I asked, my voice steady though my hands trembled.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Raiven said smoothly, drinking his water.
Lyraen tilted her head, her voice sweet. “I thought I’d get a glass too before bed.”
Her eyes flicked toward him and then back to me. I felt like an outsider in my own kitchen.I nodded once and turned away. I wasn’t going to beg for answers. Not yet.
The next morning, I came downstairs to find breakfast already made. Lyraen stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. My son sat at the table, laughing as she cut one into a star shape.
When she looked up, her smile was bright, almost too bright.
“I hope this is how you like it, Mrs. Dravik,” she said lightly. “Raiven told me he prefers his eggs this way.”
My stomach twisted. She didn’t call him Mr. Dravik. She used his first name.I looked at Raiven, waiting for him to correct her, but he didn’t. He only continued drinking his coffee, eyes fixed on his phone.I sat down, my appetite gone.
Later that afternoon, I went into Raiven’s study to tidy up. His jacket hung over the chair. I slipped my hand into the pocket and found a paper.
It was a receipt. A dinner for two. A place across town I had never been to with him. The time printed on it matched the night he told me he was working late.
I held the paper in my hand when footsteps approached. Lyraen entered the study, carrying a stack of folded laundry. Her eyes fell on the receipt instantly, then lifted to meet mine.
“Shall I put this away for you, Mrs. Dravik?” she asked, as if she hadn’t just caught me holding proof of my husband’s betrayal.
“No,” I whispered, slipping the receipt into my pocket.
She nodded politely, but her eyes lingered on mine, sharp and cold. Then she turned and walked out.I sank into the chair, pressing the paper into my palm until it crumpled.
That evening, we sat down for dinner again. Lyraen served the plates while my son talked excitedly about his day. Raiven barely listened, answering with short words, his eyes distant.
When Lyraen reached across the table to pour him a glass of water, her hand brushed his. Quick, Hidden.But I saw it.
The way she let her fingers linger for a heartbeat longer than necessary.The way Raiven didn’t pull back.My fork clattered against my plate. Both of them looked at me.
“Are you alright?” Raiven asked, his tone flat, almost annoyed.
I forced a smile. “I’m fine.” But inside, I was anything but fine.
After dinner, I put my son to bed myself. He clung to me, asking for another story, another hug. I held him longer than usual, my chest aching with love and fear.
When I stepped into the hallway, Lyraen was there, waiting. She smiled softly, but her eyes glimmered with something else.
“Rest well, Mrs. Dravik,” she said. I brushed past her without answering.
That night, I stayed downstairs longer than usual, pretending to clean. In the kitchen, Raiven stood close to her again. Their voices low, their laughter sharp in my ears.I stopped in the shadows, watching. Her hand slid over his as she handed him another glass.
This time, he didn’t even pretend to resist.
- Writer
