Chapter 11
1360 Words
Morning sunlight spilled through the dining room windows, soft and golden, but somehow the warmth never reached me.
I stood outside the double doors for several seconds before gathering enough strength to step inside.
The smell hit me first, fresh coffee, butter, toasted bread and something sweet with cinnamon.
A normal morning at least that was what it was supposed to feel like instead, my stomach turned.
Not because of the pregnancy or the nausea that had become my unwanted companion these past few days. But because normal felt impossible now.
Literally everything in this house felt staged, too polished, too perfect as though everyone had received instructions except me.
The soft scrape of a chair made me look farther down the table.
An elegant older woman sat near the windows, dressed in cream silk with a string of pearls resting against her neck. Her dark hair was swept neatly away from her face, and there was something striking about her posture, the kind of effortless grace that came from people who had spent decades being listened to.
The moment our eyes met, warmth softened her features.
"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed, setting down her teacup. "You finally came downstairs."
I blinked, uncertain before I could embarrass myself by asking who she was, Mrs. Harper stepped closer and spoke quietly.
"Mrs. Vaughn came early this morning to see you, ma'am."
Mrs. Vaughn?? She must be Lucien's mother.
Something inside me tightened immediately as she looked at me with such familiar concern that guilt settled heavily in my chest.
There were people in this house who remembered loving me and I remembered none of them.
"My dear, come sit." Her smile was gentle, though her eyes lingered on my face as though searching for something. "You've given everyone quite a fright."
I forced a small smile and moved toward the empty chair, painfully aware that I was sitting beside strangers who somehow knew me far better than I knew myself.
Lucien's mother sat at the far end of the long table dressed elegantly, her pearl necklace resting neatly against her throat beside her sat Selene.
Not across from her as a guest but beside her like she is family.
The older woman was actually smiling.
Mrs. Harper stood nearby pouring tea, and even she looked strangely relaxed.
Then Selene looked up.
"Oh, Aria."
Her warm smile bloomed instantly.
Beautiful and perfect as usual "You finally came downstairs."
As though she'd been waiting and this was her house too.
I forced myself to smile back.
The scent of her familiar perfume drifted toward me, expensive and floral.
Lucien sat at the head of the table, reading something on his tablet. His face remained unreadable.
Yet somehow I noticed the untouched coffee beside him.
Before I could think much of it, Selene frowned slightly.
"That's gone cold."
She rose naturally without hesitation or awkwardness. She simply walked toward the coffee station and nobody reacted.
Mrs. Harper, Lucien's mother, not even Lucien.
It was as though they'd seen this countless times before.
I stood there quietly while she poured another cup.
No, not just another cup.
His cup, with two sugars, no cream.
Selene did this with so much precision then she placed it beside him.
Lucien didn't thank her; he simply picked it up.
Because apparently this was normal.
Something strange settled in my chest.
Trust me it wasn't jealousy or pain it was something deeper than that.
Lucien's mother smiled fondly. "Nobody remembers his coffee the way Selene does."
Selene laughed softly.
"It's hardly difficult."
Hardly difficult?? I lowered my eyes because I couldn't even remember what my husband liked.
Maybe I used to or another version of me had known every little detail.
Maybe that version had memorized his habits the way lonely people memorized the things they loved.
But that version was gone.
And I had inherited her life without inheriting her memories.
The smell of bacon suddenly became overwhelming.
My stomach twisted.
Mrs. Harper immediately noticed. "Were you sick again this morning?"
I nodded.
Before I could answer properly, Selene spoke.
"Morning sickness is usually worse on an empty stomach."
Her voice was gentle.
"Crackers help."
Mrs. Harper brightened.
"Oh, that's true."
"I'll bring some."
Then Lucien's mother smiled. "Selene always remembers these things."
I stared at my hands because she wasn't wrong. Selene remembered everything.
Everyone adored her, nobody forced them.
She made it easy, so there was no need to be forced and that was the worst part.
Perhaps she wasn't rude, cruel and trying to replace me like I had imagined.
Nobody has to replace someone who had already become invisible.
The grandfather clock chimed softly.
Outside, birds sang somewhere beyond the garden. Sunlight reflected against crystal glasses and everything looked beautiful.
And somehow I felt lonelier than I had standing outside those locked gates.
Lucien finally lifted his eyes from his tablet.
His gaze paused on me only for a moment.
But Selene noticed.
Of course she noticed.
She always noticed.
"You have a meeting at eleven," she reminded him softly.
"And your Singapore investors arrive tomorrow."
Lucien frowned.
"I know."
She smiled.
"You forgot."
"No, I didn't."
But she laughed.
The sound was light and familiar.
"You absolutely did."
Lucien's mother chuckled.
"He did that when he was twenty-two too."
"I had to remind him then as well."
I blinked.
Twenty-two?
How long had she known him?
Something uncomfortable crawled beneath my skin.
Not because she knew him but because everyone else knew that she knew him.
Nobody found anything strange.
Lucien's mother reached for her tea.
"Honestly, Selene has always understood Lucien better than anyone."
Her voice held genuine affection and suddenly the entire room became too quiet.
The smell of coffee suddenly felt bitter.
I lowered my eyes to my plate then a thought entered my mind so quietly that it almost scared me.
Maybe she should have married him and that would have been happier.
Maybe another woman wouldn't have spent three years starving herself for scraps.
Maybe another woman wouldn't have cried herself to sleep in a mansion this large.
Maybe another woman wouldn't have ended up carrying a child she couldn't remember creating.
My throat tightened and strangely i wasn't thinking about myself. I was thinking about the woman I used to be.
The woman who had apparently fought for this, loved this, wanted this.
I pitied her not because she'd lost but because she'd been competing in a race everyone else had already decided she wasn't supposed to win.
"Aria?"
Lucien's voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Eat."
Just one word.
Simply an order.
Something inside me almost laughed.
Of course.
Even concern sounded like instructions coming from him.
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
His jaw tightened.
The room became awkward.
Selene smiled immediately.
"Maybe soup would be easier."
Lucien's mother nodded.
"That's a wonderful idea."
Mrs. Harper hurried away and I just sat there.
Watching, listening, learning.
Because maybe memory loss had stolen many things from me and it also gave me distance. Which made me see things clearly.
Selene Hart knew exactly where she belonged in this house.
The terrifying part?
Everyone else seemed to agree.
Including me.
But as I watched her laugh softly beside Lucien.
I noticed something strange whenever she touched his arm, whenever she leaned closer, whenever she smiled at him Lucien never moved closer or touched her back.
Nothing of that sort.
He simply remained cold, polite and distant
Exactly the same way he treated everyone else and for some reason that seemed to bother Selene.
I saw it just for a second.
Her smile would falter, her eyes would darken. Then she'd fix it immediately.
That's very interesting.
Maybe just maybe Selene Hart wanted something she didn't have either.
The realization had barely settled inside me when Lucien's mom said "Selene has a
lways understood Lucien better than anyone."
Her voice held such certainty that even the servants seemed unsurprised.
Then she smiled again and added softly, almost wistfully,
"Honestly, we always thought she'd be the one standing beside him."
- Writer
