Forced to love

Cruelty continues

Forced to Love (Episode 2)

The doorknob turned.

Grace held her breath, bracing for Mr. Harrison. Instead, a woman in a crisp gray uniform pushed the door open with her hip, carrying a tray.

“Dinner,” the woman said, not unkindly. “Mr. Harrison said you won’t be eating with him.” Her eyes flicked over Grace’s worn dress, then softened. “I’m Martha. I run the kitchen. Eat. You look like you haven’t in days.”

She was right. Grace hadn’t eaten since the “wedding” — not that anyone offered. She took the tray. Chicken, rice, vegetables. Real food, not the burnt leftovers Linda used to scrape onto her plate.

“Thank you,” Grace whispered. It was the first gentle thing anyone had said to her in years.

Martha lingered. “My advice? Stay out of the east wing. And lock your door at night. Not because of him.” She nodded toward the main house. “Because of her.”

“Her?”

But Martha was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her. Grace locked it anyway, sliding a chair under the knob like she used to do back in the garage room.

One Week Later

Grace learned the rhythm of the house fast. Mr. Harrison left at 6am and returned at 8pm. He never spoke to her. She cleaned what Martha told her to clean, cooked when asked, and spent the rest of her time in her room, staring at the books on the shelf she was too afraid to touch.

Then the silence broke.

Tires on gravel. Car doors. Voices.

Grace went to the window. A black SUV. A man stepped out — tall, broad shoulders, maybe late twenties. He had Mr. Harrison’s jaw but none of his coldness. He was laughing at something on his phone, running a hand through dark hair.

Behind him, a woman emerged. Blonde, designer dress, heels that clicked like gunshots on the driveway. She looped her arm through his.

“Welcome home, Daniel,” the woman said, loud enough for Grace to hear. “I can’t wait to finally be Mrs. Harrison.”

Daniel. The son. And that was… his fiancée?

Grace’s stomach dropped. So that was it. She was married to the father, but the son was about to marry someone else. She was just the live-in ghost.

That night, dinner was different. The dining room was set for four. Mr. Harrison at the head, Daniel to his right, the blonde — Vanessa — to his left. And an empty place at the foot.

Martha shoved Grace toward the stairs. “He wants you down there.”

“I’m not eating with them,” Grace panicked. “He said—”

“Not to eat. To serve.”

Her legs shook as she carried the soup tureen in. Three pairs of eyes lifted. Mr. Harrison’s were indifferent. Vanessa’s narrowed, raking over Grace’s plain dress and bare face.

Daniel’s were confused. “Dad, who is—”

“My wife,” Mr. Harrison cut in, without looking up from his phone. “Grace. She handles things around the house.”

The spoon in Vanessa’s hand clattered to her plate.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice sharp. “Your what?”

Daniel went still. His eyes found Grace, and for the first time since she arrived, someone actually saw her. Not the trash, not the maid, not the price tag. Just a nineteen-year-old girl with soup in her hands and fear in her throat.

“Vanessa,” Mr. Harrison said calmly, “you knew I had arrangements to make. This doesn’t concern you or my son.”

“It doesn’t concern me?” Vanessa stood, her chair scraping. “You married a child while Daniel and I were planning our wedding?”

“I’m not a child,” Grace said before she could stop herself. Her voice was small, but it was hers.

Every head turned.

Daniel set his napkin down slowly. “How old are you?” he asked Grace. Not unkind. Just… careful.

“Nineteen,” she whispered.

Vanessa laughed, but it wasn’t amused. “Oh, this is perfect. You buy yourself a new wife and don’t even tell your son? What, was Emily too expensive?”

Grace flinched. How did she know Emily’s name?

Mr. Harrison finally looked up. “Enough. Grace, go to your room. Daniel, my office. Now.”

Grace didn’t wait. She set the tureen down and fled, but not before she heard Vanessa’s hissed words to Daniel: “If you think I’m marrying into this, you’re insane.”

Midnight

Another knock. Softer this time.

Grace didn’t answer.

“Grace?” A man’s voice. Not Mr. Harrison. Younger. “It’s Daniel. I just… I want to talk. Please.”

She stared at the door. The son of the man who bought her. The man who was supposed to marry someone else.

Locking the door had kept people out her whole life. It had never kept the hurt out.

Her hand hovered over the chair blocking the knob.

End of Episode 2