• eight •
1539 Words
Atticus
It's midnight.
Dark and quiet and peaceful.
I'm sitting on the floor of the kitchen. Wearing my pajamas.
Scribbling little words on the piece of paper.
The switch is flipped on, swathing light into every corner of the kitchen. I look up, squinting my eyes.
Disappointment. That's what I feel when I look up, hoping it was my brother. Disgust. That's what I feel when I stare at the cheater.
Adaline is shocked and confused to see me sitting on the kitchen floor. She wants to say something but chooses not to. She drags her feet to the fridge and grabs a jar of water. She pours the cold water into a glass and returns the jar. She drinks it down and walks away. Without saying a word.
A few seconds later, she's back again. And for some reason, this time I notice how sèxy she looks in that little silk dress and how smooth her long legs are and OH MY GOD! I SHOULD HATE HER! I SHOULD HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT HER!
She crosses her hands on her chest, looking down at me. Scowling at me.
“I won't divorce him.” She says. “Ace is not just my husband. He's my best friend. And my soulmate. Nothing will ever come between us. Not even your money.”
“Is that why you're cheating on him?” I scoff. “Because you love him too much and that's what best friends do to each other? The only one coming between the two of you is you.”
“Our marriage is complicated.”
“Clearly.” I smirk. “That's why you go around clubs begging for one night stands from strangers and lying that you went to a conference.”
“That was a mistake!” She snaps. “And you don't have to keep beating me up for it! Been doing enough of that myself! That's why I can't sleep!”
She takes a deep breath and walks toward me. She sits across from me and fixes her eyes on me. And I'm reminded how much I hate the colour brown now. Because that's the colour of her eyes. And I hate how beautiful her eyes are. And how irresistible they are to look at.
“Ace told me that we're going to be roommates.”
Silence follows. As if she's still trying to get her head around it. She's clearly not happy about it. And I'm happy that she's not happy.
“Welcome home.” She says to my shock. “I hope you enjoy your short time here. And the only way you can achieve that is if you give me an easy time. And I'll give you an easy time. Keep my secret. And I'll keep your secret.”
“What secret?”
“That you fùcked your brother's wife.” She smirks. “That you did it despite knowing that she was your brother's wife. That you trapped her. And tricked her. That you did it to hurt your brother.”
“Hey!” I'm shocked. “That's not what happened.”
“Who will Ace believe?” She smirks. “The brother that abandoned him or the wife that has always been by his side?”
She stands and walks away, that smirk still on her face.
She's evil.
••••
The bed is big.
And so comfortable.
The bedroom is huge. You wouldn't think it's a guest room. It looks like a master bedroom.
The best part about waking up in a glasshouse is the floor-to-ceiling windows that provide a picturesque view of the morning, splashed over the forest of trees. This house is a dream.
I yawn and stretch and do some yoga and shower and slip into a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt.
I'm still feeling a little sleepy when I walk down the stairs. I barely slept last night. I stayed up most of the night, writing and writing and writing.
Writing has always been my form of expression and my little outlet. When I'm happy, I write. When I'm sad, I write. When I'm inlove, I write. When I'm inloathe, I write. And last night, I was in so much loathe. I loathe the woman my brother married.
I loathe Adaline.
When I walk into the kitchen, she's the first face I see. Her face just spoiled my day. Now I'm going to have a bad day. She doesn't look too happy to see me.
“Good morning.”
She manages to say but her words are dry and dead.
“Good morning.” I say flatly. “Where's Ace?”
“Went for a run.” She says. “He does it every morning.”
She's making breakfast in an apron. Her hands are masked with flour. She's mixing eggs and milk and flour, a recipe for pancakes.
“Can I help with that?”
She's surprised but she nods, relieved. She takes off her apron and hands it to me. She walks to the fridge and grabs a jar of water. She pours it in the glass and drinks it down, her brow sweating.
“Are you okay?”
I ask, whisking the mixture in the bowl.
“Yes.” She huffs. “Just a little nervous.”
“Why?”
“Your mom is coming.” She replies. “She's a few minutes away.”
My heart stops.
“I'll go get ready.” She continues. “Please don't tell your mother that you made the pancakes. Just let her think it was me.”
••••
The doorbell rings.
I swing the door open.
My mother stands there, dressed in a blue suit, her ebony hair pushed back in a tiny ponytail. She's beautiful. A little older with little wrinkles on her face. But still beautiful.
She drops her expensive bag on the floor and wraps her arms around me. She bursts into tears, soaking my t-shirt. She pulls back and slaps me hard across the face. Then she hugs me tight again.
“Never abandon your mother again!” She demands. “Okay!”
“I'm not planning to.” I smile. “I missed you.”
She stares at me in amusement and takes my hand as we walk to the breakfast table.
“Look at you!” She gushes. “All grown up. Looking like a man. You were a baby when you left.”
“I was twenty.”
“A big baby.”
The table is set with trays of pancakes and pots of coffee and bowls of boiled eggs and jars of sugar and teabags.
Ace and Adaline are sitting at the breakfast table, watching us.
My mother exchanges greetings with Ace and Adaline. For some strange reason, they feel a bit flat to me. And suddenly, there's tension at the table.
“Atticus.” Mother says. “It's so kind of you to come and clean up the mess your little brother has made of the company. We will never forget it. Your father would be so proud.”
Ace clenches his jaw, sipping the coffee.
“Mom.” I say. “Don't say that. I'm sure Ace has done a good job with the company.”
“So, why is it sinking?” She scoffs. “I know that hearing the truth can be harsh. But it's a fact that you would've made a better boss at the company. You were born for the job. Some people are meant to be bosses. Others are meant to stay staff.”
Ace drops the cup of coffee on the table and runs upstairs. Adaline follows him quickly.
“Birds of a feather.”
Mother sneers when they disappear upstairs.
“What do you mean?”
“They are both shìt at everything.” She grumbles. “Ace is shìt at the company. Adaline is shìt at being a wife. It's been a whole year now and still no grandkids! Plus, these pancakes are pathetic.”
I want to let Adaline carry the cross of my sins but the guilt claws at me. I can't let her take the blame. Even if she asked me not to tell my mother that I made them.
“I made the pancakes.”
“Oh.” She beams. “Suddenly, they are sweet. I can't believe she let you make the pancakes! You are a guest of honor in this house, not some peasant! That woman is shameless! She can't even do what she's supposed to do as a wife! What does Ace see in her! Seriously!”
“Mom.” I sigh. “I'm the one that offered to make the pancakes. She put in a lot of work to make every other thing on this table. And she set the table herself. Enough of that.”
“You're right.” She sighs. “Let's talk about you.”
A big grin spreads on her face as she rubs her hands in glee.
“I have some good news!” She shrieks. “I'm throwing you a party!”
I hate parties.
“A homecoming party!”
••••
- Writer
