cracks you can't hide
1117 Words
Chapter Two: Cracks You Can’t Hide
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not even for a second.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard his voice again.
“You’re not leaving this marriage.”
It wasn’t the words that kept me awake.
It was the certainty behind them.
Mathew didn’t make empty threats.
---
Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Like the house itself was pretending nothing had happened.
I sat at the edge of the bed, staring at nothing in particular, my mind running in circles I couldn’t control.
Divorce.
Court.
Freedom.
Fear.
They all felt real… and impossible at the same time.
A soft knock pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Ma’am?”
Morgan’s voice.
I turned slightly. “Come in.”
She stepped inside, careful as always, like she didn’t want to disturb something fragile.
“Good morning, ma,” she said gently.
“Morning.”
Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than usual.
“You didn’t sleep,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
I gave a small, tired smile. “Is it that obvious?”
She hesitated. “You look… exhausted.”
That was one way to put it.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
She didn’t respond to that.
Morgan had been in this house long enough to know when I was lying.
“Should I prepare breakfast?” she asked instead.
I nodded. “For Noah first.”
That mattered more.
Everything else could wait.
---
Noah was already awake when I got to his room.
Sitting on the floor.
Quiet.
Too quiet for a seven-year-old.
He had his toy cars spread out in front of him, but he wasn’t playing.
Just… staring at them.
My chest tightened instantly.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He looked up at me.
And for a second—just a second—I saw something in his eyes that made my heart sink.
Distance.
“Morning, mummy,” he said.
I forced a smile. “Morning, baby.”
I walked over and sat beside him.
“You didn’t come to me last night,” I said gently. “Bad dream?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why were you awake?” I asked.
He hesitated.
Then shrugged.
“I heard voices.”
My stomach dropped.
Of course he did.
Children always hear what you wish they wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”
He didn’t respond immediately.
Just looked down at his hands.
“Are you and daddy fighting again?” he asked.
The question was simple.
But it felt heavy.
Too heavy.
I swallowed.
“We’re just… talking about some things,” I said carefully.
He nodded slowly.
Like he didn’t fully believe me.
And that hurt more than anything.
“I like it when you’re both not shouting,” he added softly.
My chest tightened again.
I reached out and pulled him gently into me.
“I know,” I whispered.
“I’m trying, okay?”
He nodded against me.
But his arms didn’t wrap around me the way they used to.
And I felt it.
That small distance.
That quiet shift.
I told myself it was nothing.
But something about it stayed with me.
---
Breakfast was quiet.
Unnaturally quiet.
The kind of silence that sits at the table with you.
Noah barely spoke.
Morgan tried to fill the space once or twice, but even she gave up eventually.
And Mathew—
He didn’t come down at all.
Not that I expected him to.
Avoidance was one of his favorite weapons.
---
By the time I got to the office, my head was already aching.
But work didn’t stop.
It never did.
If anything, it felt worse here.
Because this was his space too.
His name.
His power.
His presence… even when he wasn’t physically there.
“Good morning, ma,” one of the staff greeted as I walked in.
“Morning.”
I kept walking.
Focused.
Controlled.
Untouchable.
That was the image I had to maintain.
No one here could see cracks.
No one here could know.
Because in this company—
Weakness didn’t survive.
---
My office door closed behind me with a soft click.
And just like that, the mask slipped.
I exhaled deeply, dropping my bag on the desk.
For a moment… I just stood there.
Letting the silence settle.
Then my eyes drifted to the drawer.
The papers were inside.
Divorce papers.
I hadn’t brought them here by accident.
I needed to look at them again.
To remind myself that I wasn’t imagining things.
That this was real.
That I was actually doing this.
I pulled them out slowly.
My name stared back at me from the page.
Elena Hernandez.
The name felt heavier than it should.
Like something I had been carrying for too long.
A soft knock came at the door.
I didn’t answer immediately.
“Ma?”
Melinda.
Of course.
“Come in,” I said, my voice already steady again.
She stepped in with that same confidence she had grown into over the years.
The same confidence I had once helped her build.
Funny how things change.
“I brought the reports you requested,” she said, placing them neatly on my desk.
Her eyes flicked briefly to the papers in my hand.
Then back to my face.
A small smile touched her lips.
Polite.
Professional.
But something about it felt… intentional.
“Anything else, ma?” she asked.
I held her gaze.
For a second longer than necessary.
“No,” I said finally. “That will be all.”
She nodded.
Turned.
And walked out.
Like she belonged here.
Like nothing was out of place.
---
The door closed behind her.
And I was alone again.
But this time—
The silence didn’t feel empty.
It felt like something was building.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Dangerously.
I looked back down at the papers in my hand.
Then set them on the table.
Flat.
Firm.
Final.
“I’m really doing this,” I whispered.
And for the first time since last night—
I believed it.
Even if it destroyed everything.
Even if it cost me more than I was ready to lose.
Even if—
My chest tightened slightly.
My mind drifting back to Noah.
That quiet look in his eyes.
That distance.
That question.
“Are you and daddy fighting again?”
I closed my eyes briefly.
This wasn’t just my fight anymore.
And that scared me more than Mathew ever could.
But it didn’t change anything.
I had started this.
And I was going to finish it.
No matter what it takes.
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