The Scorned wife's revenge

Chapter 5

A Quiet Determination.

The next morning, I woke up alone. Damien's side of the bed was cold and his watch, tie and his scent were all gone before the sun even touched the curtains.

I sat up slowly, pressing my hand to my forehead. My eyes felt heavy, and my chest was even heavier. The part from the clinic still sat on the nightstand. The proof said I was fine and another proof that something else was wrong or someone.

But I couldn't sit around and wait for him to talk. So, I got up, freshened up and prepared to leave for the clinic.

At the clinic, the director smiled when she saw me walk in again. "Mrs. Moreau. You're back so soon?"

I gave a weak smile. "I had a few more questions."

"Of course." She gestured for me to sit. "So, what's on your mind?"

I hesitated for a moment, while twisting the edge of my sleeve. "You said earlier that sometimes, the husband also needs to be tested."

She nodded. "Yes. It helps us understand both sides."

"What if... he doesn't want to come?"The doctor leaned back slightly, studying me. "It happens. Some men are sensitive about it."

"Sensitive," I repeated softly with a small sad smile.

She smiled back gently and understandingly. "But there are other ways."

I looked up. "Other ways?"

"Yes," she said, lowering her voice. "We can test his fertility without him being present if there's a sample."

I blinked. "A sample?"

She nodded. "Sometimes, wives bring it in themselves discreetly. But it's not common."

My heart began to race. "And if I do that... would he know?"

"Not unless you tell him." She gave a small shrug. "We just run the test, compare the results,and call you back privately. It's completely confidential."

I sat there in silence, the thought spinning in my head. I shouldn't have felt relief, but I did. It was something to know the truth without another fight."

Thank you," I said finally. "I'll think about it."

The doctor nodded. "Take your time, Mrs. Moreau but remember that the truth is better than silence, even when it hurts."

Outside, I stood on the hospital steps, staring at the city traffic. And her words replayed in my mind: truth is better than silence.

I thought about Damien, about the way his voice rose when I mentioned the test, the way his eyes had darkened like I'd hit a word he was hiding.

But I wondered if it was pride or guilt? I might not know yet but I was going to find out.

So, when I got home, as usual, I cleaned the house just to keep myself busy. I wiped the counters, folded his shirts, and cooked dinner even though I wasn't hungry. But still, I couldn't get over the whispers in my head.

By evening, I called his phone and he picked the first ring. "Hey," I said. "You'll be home for dinner?"

"Yeah," his rough and distracted voice came through. "I've got a meeting first."

"Another late one?"

He sighed. "It's work, Elara. You know how it is."

"I know," I said softly. "Just come home safe, okay?"

He hummed. "Yeah, I will."

I wanted to say more and I wanted to ask who he was really when he said he was working late. But the words stuck in my throat.

"Love you," I said instead.

"Love you too." He hung up before I could reply.

Hours passed and the food on the table went cold again. It was almost midnight when I heard the car outside. The sound of the gate opening, then closing and the soft slam of the door. I stood still in the kitchen, pretending I hadn't been waiting.

The front door opened and dance walked in, with his tie loose, and his hair a little messy.

"Hey," he said in a low voice. "You're still up again?"

"I couldn't sleep again."

He nodded with tired eyes. "You shouldn't wait for me, Elara. I told you I'd be late."

"I made fibber," I said quietly."

He smiled faintly. "I'll go to war later, I'm exhausted."

He started walking past me, but then I caught a whiff of something that froze me where I stood. It was a soft, sweet floral perfume that wasn't mine, neither his and my stomach twisted.

I stared at him, and my throat went tight. "You smell like... someone else's perfume."

He froze for a split second, then turned to me with a blank expression. "What?"

"Your shirt," I said, and my voice shook, but I kept it steady enough. "It smells like perfume."

He looked down at his shirt, then shrugged. "Probably from work. The secretary hugged me after the meeting. She was so happy she got a promotion."

I laughed under my breath. "She hugged you?"

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. "It's just... funny how every time you're late, and you come home smelling like another woman's perfume."

"Don't start," he muttered, walking toward the stairs.

"I'm not starting," I said, following him. "I'm asking."

He stopped halfway up the stairs and turned. His face was tired and cold. "You think I'm cheating on you now?"

I opened my mouth but no words came out.

He shook his head. "You don't really trust me, do you?"

"Damien–"

He stepped closer. "You went behind my back about the doctor and you want me tested like I'm some lab rat. And now you think I'm sleeping around."

My hands clenched. "I didn't go behind your back. I just asked–"

He cut me off. "You asked because you think I'm the problem."

I blinked back tears. "I didn't say that."

He stared at me. "You didn't have to."

The silence stretched between us and finally I whispered, "I just want us to be honest with each other."

He laughed quietly. "Honest? Elara, honesty doesn't fix everything."I stared at him. "Then what does?"

He didn't answer and after a long moment, he walked past me, unbuttoning his cufflinks. "I'm going to shower, don't wait up."

I just stood there at the foot of the stairs, listening to his footsteps fade. The scent of the perfume still hung in the air and I sat down later on the couch. My eyes burned and my hands started shaking and part of me wanted to believe him. To believe that he was just tired, that it was really from work. But another part whispered that maybe the truth was already in front of me.

I looked at the folded clinic paper again, still sitting on the nightstand. The one that said I was fine. And if I was fine, then someone had to be lying. And the next time I went to the clinic, I would make sure I had more than just my own sample. I would find out what he was hiding and even if it broke me to know.

That night, Damien came out of the shower, with his hair damp, and his shirt changed. He kissed the top of my head like nothing had happened.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

"Goodnight," I said softly. But after he turned away, I caught it again, the faint perfume still lingering on his skin. I closed my eyes and whispered to myself. "I'll find out the truth, someday."