Chapter 6
1443 Words
I was unable to move. My body stiffened. I was currently driving near a high cliff.
I couldn't stop the car. Not only that, but I stepped on the break a few times, but it kept going on its own. Furthermore, I wanted to call for help, but nothing came out of my mouth. In front of me, there was an oncoming truck.
I jolted awake with beads of sweat on my brow. I gasped and shortly caught my breath. Similarly, I turned my head to see Randall's concerned expression.
He had returned.
He reached something to my bedside and gave me a glass of warm water.
"Have you had another nightmare?" Randall inquired with his agitated demeanor unbroken.
I nodded and traveled into a daze. The more dreams like this I have, the more bizarre I become.
As I recalled my dream, I was driving in the dark when my car's brakes suddenly failed. It didn't stop no matter how hard I stepped on the brake. I was reaching for something on my foot and didn't notice the truck coming to hit me.
The left side of my brain ached as I stroked it with my shaking hand. Randall helped me lie down by taking the glass I was holding.
He drew the blanket up to my chest and brushed my hair gently until I fell asleep.
My body felt numb the next morning because the man hugged me. His arm's weight displaced my toned body. I took his arm slowly so as not to wake him up. When I raised my hand, he pulled my body and gave me cause to hug him.
“After all, it's Sunday, and I'd like to cook something for you. Housekeepers have the day off today. I was able to practice because I watched the tutorial on YouTube,” I said while still lying next to him.
He separated from me.
When I was in the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and arranged the ingredients. Coppa, Boston, Pasta with Lamb Ragù It consists of large hollow pasta tubes stuffed with chunks of lamb, tomato ragù, and grated Pecorino. I tossed the pasta first, then mixed in the remaining ingredients one at a time.
“Mmmh. “What exactly is it?” As I set the plating, he hugged me from behind. “It's Pasta with Lamb Ragù: Coppa, Boston.” I saw its tutorial on YouTube. This dish was created by a famous co-chef who was tired of the same old way of cooking pasta. He came up with another way to make it more appealing and delicious.”
We sat at the table as he happily talked about the flowers planted in the garden. Then suddenly the doorbell rang. Because it was the weekend, no one would open the door. He was about to get up when I jumped in my chair. “I'll do it,” I'm walking when the doorbell rings again.
I opened it and saw the classy, elegant woman wearing an emerald pleated dress. Looking good with black hair is a partner with a French summer flat-topped straw hat, brimmed at the top of her head.
“M-Mommy, why are you here?” I stuttered when I asked her.
She just raised an eyebrow and asked, "Where's my son?" Her stilettos echoed on the floor. Randall's mother, Amelia Adams, was my mother-in-law. She was carrying a small black bag and was about to climb the stairs.
“Randall is in the kitchen,” I informed her.
“You're turning my son into a slave for your bloated stomach?” She looked at me from head to toe, as if disgusted.
“N-No, mom. We're eating now, the helpers aren't here because they're off today,” I explained to her. She ignored me and went straight to the kitchen.
Hesitantly, I followed her. Fortunately, I still had a plate leftover that I made. I would have had a snack later but since my mother-in-law came I would just give it.
I went straight to the refrigerator and picked it up. Placed in the microwave to heat.
When it clicked, I put it in front of her. Randall's gaze followed me as if watching my movements. Even I was disappointed in her mother's actions.
The first and last time I saw her was when Randall and I were married.
Mom Amelia took the fork and picked the pasta. Her eyes lit up and faced Randall.
“It's delicious! I didn't know you were good at cooking, Randall!” she said briskly. Randall glanced at me before he replied, “Winter cooked that, mother. Isn't she good at cooking?”
Mom Amelia's expression changed rapidly. Her already glowing eyes were replaced by cold ones. I thought she would praise me, but I didn’t know if there was contempt in her voice.
“I see. You know how to cook. Good for you then.” she turned her back on me and looked back at Randall, “Anyway. Charlotte is coming back here to Europe.” From the tone of his mother, I knew that something bad would be done by that name.
“Charlotte?” I interrupted.
“Oh! Of course. You don't remember even a part of your memory. Well, Charlotte should be the one in your place,” Mommy Amelia's legs crossed as she said that. She wasn’t looking at me but at her long newly made nails.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed as if I was fooling with her. “Charlotte is supposed to be Randall’s bride. If Charlotte hasn’t just pursued her career, she probably will have been here. Not you, who just agreed to arrange marriage—”
She could not continue what she was saying because of the resounding voice. “MOM! I don't let people in here just insult and disrespect my wife. Don't you ever go there!” He roared.
“But son. You've been married to a woman for just a month. Don't tell me you are already captivated by this woman,” Randall's mother said softly.
“Please. Leave. I'll call Mark to pick you up. I prefer not to get to the point where I have to let you out. Even if you turn the world upside down, my wife is Winter and I hope you accept that.”
“This woman is already playing with you in her palms. She will inherit from her abductor mother!” she's furiously marching out.
I approached Randall and held his arm to calm him down, “Hey, I'm okay. I'm sorry you and your mom fought with each other just because of me.”
He hugged, leaned and hugged my head on his chest. “I should be the one to apologize for what my mom did.”
I removed his hand from my head and looked him in the eyes, “Why does she seem mad at me? What did my mother do to her?”
“I don't know, either. I don't talk to my mom about personal matters.”
“Who is Charlotte?”
It was a long silence before he replied, “She's my ex-girlfriend. Mom loves her very much. They arranged a marriage for us to get married, but she ran away to pursue her dream in Paris.”
“Ah. So maybe she's just mad at me because I became your wife. Who will be proud of the woman who hasn't built or made a name for herself yet? I get all things from what my parents left behind,” as I said that, a pain passed through my heart. My chest pangs.
The time passed by quickly. It's already 9 PM.
When Randall was asleep, I got his laptop from the cabinet. It wasn't locked. The screen that popped up was my face asleep. That was his screen wallpaper.
“When did he take this picture?”
I smiled and searched f*******: and saw Randall's account logged in. I didn't look at the messages and went straight to his profile and looked at his friends. Furthermore, I searched for the name Charlotte, but nothing came up. Not only that, but I also saw that his friend on f*******: was all a businessman.
Likewise, I searched for Amelia Adams and went to her profile to see her friends. As soon as I scrolled through her timeline, mom Amelia had a post.
“See you, sweetheart.”
The post was 2 days ago. She also tagged someone. When I looked at the name, I saw the name of the person I was looking for.
Charlotte Grayson.
- Writer
