Chapter 3
1168 Words
Karl’s laughter still echoed faintly in the hall when I told him no.
He wanted to go with Ken to drop Helen off after dinner, and I’d refused. I thought it was a simple, reasonable boundary. It wasn’t. Not to Karl.
“But Mom, I want to go!” he insisted, his eyes wide with defiance. “Helen said she’ll show me a video of the new ski jump! Please?”
“She can show you next time,” I told him softly, even though my chest already felt heavy. “It’s late, Karl. You have school tomorrow.”
He frowned, his little hands curling into fists. “You always say no! You’re boring! Dad and Helen are fun!”
The words hit harder than I expected. Before I could find a response, he turned and ran upstairs, his small feet thudding against the marble steps. The sound of his bedroom door slamming echoed through the silence like a closing chapter.
I just stood there, staring at the staircase that suddenly felt miles away from me.
Moments later, the nanny emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She gave me that gentle, pitying look she always did when things got tense between Karl and me.
“Mrs. Morgan,” she said carefully, “you should let him go. He’s just a child. He doesn’t mean to talk that way.”
I swallowed hard. “If I keep letting him do whatever he wants, what kind of child am I raising?”
Her smile was polite but patronizing. “He’s happier when you don’t push him. Sometimes it’s better to let Mr. Ken handle things. You’ve been so stressed lately.”
I looked at her for a long moment, then turned away before the tears in my eyes could betray me. The words stung more than they should have. Maybe because there was truth in them or because everyone seemed to think I was the problem.
I walked over to the window and pressed my palm against the cold glass. Outside, the winter sky was painted in bruised gray. I watched as Ken’s car lights disappeared down the street, taking Karl and Helen with them.
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I had worked so hard to give Karl a good life. I remembered the endless nights after his birth how I’d sat awake in the dark, shaking, terrified that I wasn’t a good mother. The doctors called it postpartum depression. Ken called it weakness.
Back then, he was so distant. He couldn’t handle my sadness, my tears, or my trembling hands. So we hired a nanny, “just for a while.” But a while turned into years. And somewhere between my recovery and his growing success, Karl stopped reaching for me.
He reached for everyone else instead.
I wiped my eyes and exhaled slowly. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry again tonight.
Ken came home just past midnight.
The sound of the front door clicking open woke me. I turned toward the noise, my heart already pounding. His footsteps were heavy, deliberate, carrying that faint scent of wine and something floral.
I didn’t need to guess what the floral scent was. It wasn’t mine.
Before I could speak, he slipped into bed beside me, his hands sliding over my waist. His breath brushed my neck. The sudden contact startled me awake.
“Ken,” I murmured, pulling away. “Stop. Where were you?”
He groaned quietly. “Don’t start.”
“You were with her again, weren’t you?” I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. “With Helen.”
He leaned back on one elbow, looking irritated. “She’s Karl’s instructor, Liora. Don’t make this ugly.”
“You were gone for hours. It’s past midnight.”
“So what?” he snapped. “We had dinner. We were planning Karl’s next session.”
“Dinner?” I laughed bitterly. “Since when does planning ski lessons involve wine and perfume?”
Ken ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “You’re jealous again.”
“Jealous?” My voice cracked. “I’m your wife, Ken. I have every right to ask where you’ve been.”
He looked away, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re overreacting, as usual. Helen’s kind, that’s all. She’s good with Karl, and you—” He hesitated, then exhaled. “You’ve been so hard on him lately. Maybe you should take a step back.”
The room spun for a second, and it wasn’t from dizziness this time. It was from disbelief. “So now I’m the problem?” I whispered. “I was in the hospital last week, Ken. Hooked up to an IV. You didn’t even call.”
He sighed loudly, like he couldn’t be bothered. “You know how busy I am.”
“Busy?” I could feel tears pricking behind my eyes. “Busy laughing with your ex at a restaurant while I’m alone in a hospital bed?”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re too dramatic, Liora. Maybe that’s why Karl doesn’t listen to you anymore.”
The words landed like a slap. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
“Say that again,” I whispered.
Ken shrugged, turning toward the closet. “I’m just saying maybe if you were nicer, he’d like being around you more. And while you’re at it try being nice to Helen too. She’s done more for Karl lately than you have.”
That was it. Whatever love I’d been clinging to… it crumbled completely.
I stared at his back and said quietly, “Get out.”
He turned, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Get. Out.”
He let out a cold laugh. “You don’t get to order me around.”
But I didn’t move. I didn’t beg. I just stared at him until he finally grabbed his jacket and left, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the picture frames on the wall.
When the silence returned, it was deafening. My pulse pounded in my ears. I sat there in the half-dark room, gripping the blanket like it was the only thing keeping me from breaking apart completely.
I’d spent so long hoping things would get better believing that maybe if I tried harder, he’d love me again. But that hope was gone now. All that was left was exhaustion. And resolve.
I needed to protect myself.
And I needed to protect Karl.
Even if it meant tearing everything apart to do it.
By sunrise, I was already dressed and ready to go. My suitcase sat by the door, filled with files, clothes, and my camera. I wasn’t even sure what my plan was yet just that I couldn’t sit still anymore while Ken made a fool of me.
I needed proof.
I needed help.
And I knew exactly who could give it to me.
Ezra.
- Writer
