6
826 Words
Emma's POV
The line went dead and I stared at the phone with shaking hands.
“Emma, what did he say?” Daniel leaned forward, concern written all over his face.
“He has my mom’s things. Her bracelet, photos, the hair clip with shells... they’re all I have left of her.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “That bastard.”
“I have to go back. I can’t let him destroy them.”
“Emma, it’s a trap. You know that, right?”
“I know. But those things... they’re all I have.” I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. “I’m not going back to surrender, Daniel. I’m going to get my stuff and get the hell out of there.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“No. This is something I need to do alone.”
***
When I pulled into the driveway of the mansion. There was smoke rising from the front yard, and I could see several of the household staff gathered around what looked like a bonfire.
My heart sank as I got closer. They were burning my clothes.
“Stop!” I screamed, running toward the fire. “Stop it right now!”
Mrs. Patterson, the head housekeeper, looked at me with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Miss Emma. Mr. Sterling’s orders.”
I watched helplessly as my favorite sweater—the blue one my foster mother had knitted for me—went up in flames. Books were piled nearby, waiting to be thrown in next.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“Inside, miss. In his study.”
I pushed past the servants and stormed into the house. Alex was standing in the foyer, watching through the window as my belongings burned.
“You sick bastard,” I spat. “How could you do this?”
He turned to face me, his expression cold. “You wanted to leave. I’m helping you pack light.”
“Those were my things! My books, my clothes—“
“Nothing in this house belongs to you, Emma. Nothing.” He stepped closer. “Except for those little trinkets upstairs. Your mother’s junk. That’s still safe. For now.”
I pushed past him and ran up the stairs to our bedroom. The safe was still closed, thank God. I quickly entered the combination and pulled out the small velvet pouch that held my mother’s bracelet, the old photos, and the shell hair clip. I also grabbed some important letters and documents I’d kept there.
When I came back downstairs, Alex was waiting for me.
“Got what you came for?”
“I want the rest of my clothes. The ones that aren’t burned yet.”
“Fine. Take whatever’s left. But Emma...” He grabbed my arm as I tried to walk past him.
“This divorce thing? It’s not going to happen. You’re my wife, and you’ll stay my wife.”
“Let go of me.”
“You know what your problem is? You’re broken. Damaged goods. Any normal woman would have given me a child by now, but you... you can’t even do that right.”
The words stabbed right in my heart.
“You’re disgusting,” I whispered.
That’s when I lost it. My hand moved before my brain could stop it right in his left cheek.
He stared at me in shock, his hand going to his face.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Alex’s expression hardened again.
“Get the f**k out of my house!” he barked fiercely.
“And take your mother’s trash with you!"
I ran outside, clutching the small bag of items I’d managed to save. Some of the staff had managed to rescue a few more of my things, a couple of dresses, some books that hadn’t made it to the fire yet. I hugged them to my chest as the tears kept leaking from the corner of my eyes.
Right now, I had nowhere to go. Everything felt so crushed that I couldn’t think straight anymore. I walk down the streets of that elite neighborhood without paying attention to the people who pass me by and stare at me with pity, some with questions in their eyes. I feel like I’m going to become a bum. Since I have no one left and I have nothing left.
That’s when the black sedan pulled up beside me. A man in a crisp uniform got out of the driver’s seat and approached me. “Miss Emma Hayes?”
I looked up, confused. “Yes?”
“I’m here to pick you up, miss.”
“I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake. I didn’t call for a car.”
“No mistake, miss. I was sent by your grandfather.”
My heart stopped. “My what?”
“Your grandfather, miss. He’s been looking for you for quite some time.”
- Writer
