His Silence, Her Freedom

CHAPTER 2

Daniel’s mother criticizes Maya’s breakfast preparation.

"Is this what you mean by breakfast?"

Her voice cuts through the morning like a knife through glass.

The smell of roasted coffee beans curls between us like a worried ghost, and I stop pouring Daniel's coffee. Mrs. Ross sits at the head of the table, just like she has every morning since I moved in. Her lips are tight and her back is straight. Her opinion is more important than anything else.

There are simple foods on the table, like toast, eggs, grilled tomatoes, and orange juice that was just squeezed. Daniel told me he liked it simple and cozy when we got married, and that's what it is.

It seems that was a mistake.

I carefully say, "I did what Daniel asked." "He said he likes a light breakfast in the morning."

The light hits Mrs. Ross's diamond earrings when she tilts her chin. "My son needs to eat well." He puts in a lot of hours at work. He won't need toast and tomatoes to stay up.

She pokes the eggs with her fork like they've done something wrong and says, "Half-cooked." Like always.

The words hurt, but I don't say anything. Daniel is still getting ready in the upstairs room. First, she speaks, then she disapproves, and finally I stay quiet.

She takes one last small bite, chews it, and then sighs and puts her fork down. "Maya, I made sure my husband never went hungry when we were married." That makes a man happy.

That's all for today.

I can smile a little. "I'll make sure to make something more filling tomorrow."

She squints her eyes, as if what I'm saying is rude. "Tomorrow?" "Why not now?"

My heart is racing. I take a quick look at the stairs. Daniel should be down now. She usually lowers her voice or turns her attention to something else when he's there.

But you can't hear his footsteps.

The clock ticking softly is the only sound in the room.

A cabinet door creaks behind me. In the quiet kitchen, it's a loud noise. I act like I don't hear the sighs coming from the dinner table like angry winds as I wash the juicer with my hands.

Then her voice came back, and this time it was clearer. "Do you know how Daniel breaks his eggs?" I don't think so.

I say to her, "I made them the same way I always do," as I look at her.

She laughs quickly, but it's not funny. "And you think that habit keeps a man interested?" He has lost weight for a reason.

I look at the table for a second. Daniel's chair is empty, and the napkin next to the plate that hasn't been touched is neatly folded. My stomach gets tight.

Mrs. Ross pushes her chair back a bit. "Where is he, anyway?"

"I think in his study." Making some calls.

Her eyes go up. "Calls?" Before breakfast? She turns her head. "This house is too comfortable for him to break rules because of you." Order, not chaos, should be the wife's job.

She suddenly gets up and walks over to the counter, where the frying pan is still sitting. I move back as she picks it up, looks at it, and makes a face.

"You don't even warm the oil up right." Look at this—there's no color or taste. "Everything you touch is dead."

The words hurt too much. Not having any motivation.

I used to sing while I made dinner. I would hum little songs to myself, and the kitchen would be full of the sound of my happiness. That was before I started to be afraid of every sound I made and everyone kept telling me what to do.

I say in a low voice, "I can do something else."

"You're not going to do that." The pan crashes to the ground. "I'll make sure the staff cooks breakfast the right way." I can't let your tests put Daniel's health at risk.

Taking tests. She talks to me like I'm not even in my own house.

We both look up when we hear footsteps on the stairs. Daniel finally arrives with his phone in one hand and his cuffs fixed. I feel a flash of relief. Maybe the morning will be better now.

He looks at his mother and then at me and says, "Good morning."

Mrs. Ross looks at him and her voice is now very sweet, which it wasn't before. "Sweetheart, you must be very hungry." I told Maya that she should have had a bigger breakfast. She made something light again.

Daniel looks at me and then at the table. For a little while, his eyes don't look as mean.

He says to her, "It's okay." "Today I don't need much."

She makes a sound. "Not true. I'm going to ask Maria to cook some good food. "You can't work if you're not fed."

He says, "It's fine," in a stronger tone.

Then he looks at me again, and this time his silence tells me what he doesn't want to say. What I see there is shame. He won't stand up to his mother, but he also won't keep me safe.

I took the pot of coffee out. "Daniel, do you want your cup?"

He nods, even though he doesn't want to.

Mrs. Ross sits back down with a big smile on her face. "Look, Maya? It's not hard to look after him. "Just pay attention."

I can feel the cup of coffee shaking in my hand, and a drop falls on the saucer. She can see it, even though it's small.

"Oops, careless."

The air is heavy, so it seems like the house is listening. My throat gets tight as I slowly put the cup down in front of Daniel.

He makes a lot of noise. "Mom, you might want to let her—"

"Let her," she says, cutting him off. "What should I let her do, Daniel?" Don't pretend to be her wife during her time. You don't deserve this kind of care.

He stops talking again.

The words just sit there, mean and planned.

I don't move, and I hold my hands together so that you can't see that they are shaking.

I want to be able to hide for a while.

Then Mrs. Ross stands up and walks toward the door. "I'll tell Maria to make something good." You both keep going.

As she leaves the dining room, her perfume follows her like a warning.

As soon as the door closes, I let out the breath I've been holding.

Daniel rubs the back of his neck as he exhales. "Don't take it personally," he says in a soft voice. "She has good intentions."

The words hurt more than the insults she said.

"She has good intentions."

I hear the words over and over until they sound like something is wrong.

I look at him. "Daniel, she told me I wasn't careful.""She said bad things about the food before you even tried it." What does that mean?

He sighs and puts his coffee cup down carefully, as if the table might punish him for making a scene. You already know that "Maya, she's just the way she is."

I say in a low voice, "That's the issue." "You say that all the time." But you can't stop her.

He gives me that tired look that I've come to know as a mix of guilt, discomfort, and avoiding.She is my mother."What do you want me to do?" Every morning, you fight with her?

I tell you, "I want you to see me." "Only once, Daniel." Pay attention to how she talks to me. I've tried my best to make you both happy by getting smaller.

He gets up quickly, and the chair falls to the floor. "You're overreacting."

The last words are heavy.

It hurts my heart. For a moment, the sound of the ocean coming in through the open window makes the room feel calm and steady. I wonder if it's making fun of me for expecting something else.

As he takes his phone from the table, he looks at it while half-turned toward the door. "I have a meeting." We'll talk again later.

Of course. Soon.

Never comes later.

I stand there with the sharp, sour smell of burnt toast in the air as he walks away.

I take a quick look at the food, which is still warm but not done. I put my hands together in fists. "Enough," says a quiet voice inside.

I go to the bar to clean the plates, but something shiny catches my eye. It's Daniel's phone, not mine. He must have been in a hurry and lost it.

The screen lights up when I touch it. A new message. The name of the person who sent it makes me shiver.

Claire.

I haven't moved for a long time. I can't hear anything else because my heart is beating so fast.

I feel both interested and scared as I read the sample line:

"She will never be to you what I was to you."

My hand is shaking. Even though I don't want to, my body moves.

The message continues:

"She'll never be like I was to you, Daniel." You already know that. You can't act like you care about someone who doesn't make you feel good. That will become clear very soon.

Eating hurts. My breath stops when I'm sick or don't believe it.

Claire.

Yes, it was the same Claire who called last night. I couldn't stop thinking about her name.

Footsteps fill the hall.

Daniel. Going back.

I panicked. I hang up the phone as soon as the door opens.

He stops when he sees me at the bar. He looks at my face, then back at the phone.

He says "Maya" slowly. "What do you have in mind?"

My voice shakes as I swallow. "Who is Claire, Daniel?"

He doesn't say anything for a second. His silence says it all.

Finally, one of the muscles in his jaw starts to tighten. "Not now is the time to do this."

But I already know. That flash of guilt and fear can be seen in his eyes.

Before I can say anything else, the table buzzes with another phone call. This time it's not his.

A weak voice calls out from the hallway that it's Mrs. Ross. "Hey Daniel, Claire just called the house." "Should I let her know you'll call her back?"

It feels like everything inside me stops.

Daniel's eyes got big as he felt scared and shocked.

For a moment, everything around me gets fuzzy when I look at him.