Episode 9_The waiting room
1011 Words
Three days had passed since Caroline Winslow returned from her trip with Charlotte Harrington.
Three long days!
Edward still had not come home.
By the fourth evening, even the elegance of the Winslow estate had started irritating her.
The mansion stood beautifully beneath the cold Surrey night, glowing softly behind tall iron gates and carefully maintained gardens. Everything inside reflected wealth, power, and perfection.
Yet the silence inside the house felt unbearable tonight.
Caroline stepped into the living room after another exhausting day of meetings, charity appearances, and social obligations designed mostly to keep powerful people visible in one another’s lives.
Usually, she handled it well, but tonight, exhaustion sat heavily against her body.
She removed her heels near the staircase before sinking slowly onto the cream-colored sofa, finally allowing herself a moment to breathe.
The housekeeper approached carefully.
“Good evening, ma’am. Would you like dinner prepared?”
Caroline rubbed lightly against her temple.
“No appetite.”
The woman nodded politely before leaving again.
Silence returned almost immediately.
Caroline leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes briefly.
Her thoughts drifted again toward the conversation from the private jet days earlier.
Damon,St. Alden’s,Elena Parker.
The name still lingered unpleasantly in her mind,not because of the girl herself, because Caroline understood how dangerous familiarity could become inside elite circles.
Especially when old names resurfaced quietly.
Her eyes slowly opened again.
The mansion lights reflected softly across the glass windows ahead of her while distant rain tapped lightly against the outside terrace.
Still no Edward.
A bitter smile almost crossed her lips.
That man could negotiate entire political territories yet fail repeatedly at something as simple as coming home when promised.
She reached for her phone beside her.
Then stopped.
“No. Let him call first.” She said.
Caroline tossed the phone back onto the table and stood again, restless now.
She moved slowly toward the minibar and poured herself a drink before walking barefoot toward the large windows overlooking the estate gardens.
For a moment, she simply stared outside.
Somewhere beneath, the polished woman society admired so much,the girl from the slums still existed.
Caroline remembered cramped apartments,cold winters….. Watching her mother count coins beneath dim kitchen lights.
Patricia had taught her early that poverty destroyed softness first.
“Never depend completely on love,” her mother used to warn. “Love changes. Status survives.”
Caroline had listened carefully.
Very carefully, and she had climbed.
Used every opportunity,every connection,every opening.
Even Charlotte, especially Charlotte.
A soft vibration from her phone interrupted her thoughts.
Caroline picked it up instantly.
Edward.
Finally.
She answered immediately.
“So you remembered your wife exists.”
A tired sigh came from the other end.
“Caroline…”
“No,” she interrupted calmly. “You promised you’d be back two days ago.”
“I know.” Edward said.
“Do you?” Caroline asked.
Edward’s voice sounded exhausted, lower than usual.
“The expansion meetings became complicated.” He said.
“Everything always becomes complicated.” Caroline replied.
Silence lingered briefly between them.
Not angry silence, familiar silence.
Caroline walked slowly across the room while holding the phone tighter against her ear.
“You know what the problem is?” she asked quietly.
Edward exhaled softly. “What?”
“You keep asking me to understand your schedule while expecting me to live around your absence.”
Another pause followed.
Then finally:
“I’m trying to secure our future.” Edward explained
Caroline laughed once.
A small, humorless sound.
“Our future already looks secure, Edward. We have the mansion. The status. The connections. You’ve already won.” She responded.
“You know it’s bigger than that.” He expressed.
Of course she knew.
Powerful men like Edward never stopped climbing.
That ambition had attracted her once.
Now it mostly exhausted her.
“When are you coming home?” she asked finally.
“I don’t know yet.” He replied.
The answer immediately hardened something inside her again.
Always later,always waiting, always unfinished promises…..
Caroline moved toward the staircase slowly, her silk dress brushing softly against the marble floors.
“You said that last week too.” Caroline complained.
“I’m sorry.” He replied.
“Yes,” she replied quietly. “You usually are.”
The line grew silent again.
Edward sounded genuinely regretful,bit regret did not change loneliness.
After another brief exchange, the call finally ended.
Caroline lowered the phone slowly before staring at the screen for several seconds.
Then she tossed it carelessly onto the bed beside her.
The frustration sitting inside her chest now felt restless,heavy and unfulfilled.
She moved toward the mirror near the dressing area and stared at herself quietly.
Beautiful, Elegant and Desired.
And completely alone inside a mansion large enough to echo.
Her jaw tightened slightly.
“No.” She whispered.
She refused to spend another night feeling unwanted.
Caroline reached for her phone again.
This time, she did not hesitate.
Her fingers moved naturally across the contact list before selecting another number.
The call connected almost immediately.
“Well,” the male voice said softly, “I was wondering when you’d finally miss me.”
A faint smile touched Caroline’s lips.
“You sound very confident.” She muttered.
“You only call this late when you’re bored… or lonely.” the voice from the other end said.
Caroline walked slowly toward the balcony doors before pulling them open slightly, allowing cool night air to enter the room.
“And if I’m both?” She asked.
The man laughed quietly from the other end.
There it was.
Attention, Immediate,focused and present.
Unlike Edward…..
“Should I come over?” he asked.
Caroline leaned lightly against the balcony frame while looking out across the dark estate grounds below.
For a brief moment, she said nothing.
Then finally,
“Yes.”
Her voice remained calm.
Controlled.
But deep down, Caroline Winslow understood something about herself she rarely admitted aloud:
No matter how high she climbed,
she still feared emptiness most of all.
- Writer
