CHAPTER TWO: Vacant Home
907 Words
My fingers went numb around the phone. The word always struck me as cold.
Always?
A memory suddenly surfaced in my head. Just that morning. Lucas standing by the door, adjusting his watch, distracted.
I had asked him if he’d be home early tonight. He barely looked at me when he said he had a late meeting but asked me to make his favorite because he was going to return home late and hungry.
My gaze snapped back to the photo. The lighting was warm and soft, not like an office. It was evening light.
A restaurant light.
A chill crept down my spine as a quiet and insistent thought pushed its way in.
This was taken today.
My thumb moved before I could stop it, tapping into her profile, scrolling fast now with a racing pulse.
And then I saw another post from a few days ago, it was a mirror selfie, and right behind her I could see my husband in the mirror.
They were in his office. Who lets their secretary take selfies at work? And in their office too?
My heart slammed against my ribs as something even worse settled in.
This wasn’t new.
This had been happening right under my nose.
While I’d been counting days, tracking cycles, injecting hope into my body….
He’d been building something else with someone I could never have imagined.
My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t get enough air in no matter how hard I tried. I stared at the screen, at those pictures, at the life that had been unfolding right under me without a single c***k showing.
Then something else caught my eye.
A highlight.
I don’t know why I tapped it. Maybe I needed to hurt myself a little more. Maybe I needed proof that this wasn’t just in my head.
The screen filled with short clips, laughing, glasses clinking, soft music in the background. Nothing too obvious. Nothing that screamed affair. But it was the details.
A familiar couch.
A corner lamp I had picked out myself.
My throat went dry.
And then, the last clip.
It was quick. Careless. The camera angled low as she adjusted it, probably not realizing what it caught in the mirror behind her.
A reflection.
Lucas.
Shirt unbuttoned, tie hanging loose around his neck… walking past.
Like he belonged there.
It was at the hotel.
Valencia hotel. My sweat and blood.
I built it in honor of my mom. Her lifelong dream was to own a hotel, but she sadly passed away before she could.
I worked my ass out to build that hotel and give it the reputation it has now. A five star hotel worthy of the likes of Adrea Bocelli.
I was very precise with everything I had wanted for it. Every detail counted. I handpicked all the curtains and furniture myself. I made perfection. It was named after my mother. Valencia.
My hand dropped to my stomach instinctively, pressing over the spot where I’d taken the shot earlier. It still hurt. Everything did.
But then..
A soft, distant sound.
The front door opened.
My head snapped up, with my heart slamming violently against my ribs.
No.
He said he’d be late.
Keys clinked. The door shut. And slow footsteps ascended the stairs.
My pulse roared in my ears as I looked back down at the screen, then toward the bedroom door, my mind racing too fast to keep up.
The door creaked open and Lucas stepped in, loosening his tie, already halfway into a sigh like he’d had a long day. Like this was normal, like we were normal.
“Hey,” he said softly, glancing at me. “You’re awake.”
I swallowed, my grip tightening around my phone. My voice didn’t come out the first time I tried. When it finally did, it was low.
“Yeah.” I said . “ I couldn’t sleep.”
He paused for a second. “Are you feeling okay ?” he asked, stepping further into the room.
I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together. I could see the worry in his eyes, the way he instinctively reached for me, like he wanted to pull me into his arms.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket instead.
“I’m fine,” I said, and I meant it. It wasn’t exactly a lie. I was okay for now. Mostly.
I didn’t want to show him that my hands were shaking, that my chest felt hollow, that my mind was screaming. Not yet, I needed more proof.
He hesitated, lingering a step away, his eyes searching mine. “Really… you seem tense. Do you want to talk?”
I offered a small, brittle smile, forcing warmth into it. “Just tired. Long day. That’s all. The shots are taking a toll on me.”
He sat beside me and kissed my forehead. “El I’m sorry you’re going through this. If only I could make it lighter for you.” He took my left hand into his.
“I love you and I hope you never forget that. You’re my entire world Elena Turner.”
I cracked a little “Even if I didn’t make your baked salmon?”
He laughed. “Even if you didn’t make it.” He kissed me on my lips.
“I’ll make something for us right now.” I nodded and watched him disappear behind the door.
- Writer
