The mixed feelings
1049 Words
Elena was already dressed when her mother’s voice called from downstairs. "Elena, we need to take your father to the hospital. He’s not been himself since morning."
She hurried down the steps, her heart racing. Mr. Carter sat hunched on the couch, clutching his chest faintly. Sweat beaded along his forehead.
"Dad?" she rushed to his side. "What’s wrong?"
He gave her a weak smile. "Just a little pressure. It’ll pass."
"We’re not taking chances," Mrs. Rosie Carter said firmly, already grabbing her bag. "You’re getting checked. Now."
At the hospital, tests confirmed the worst: early signs of heart complications. The doctor, a calm woman in her mid-fifties, adjusted her glasses before addressing the family in the hallway.
"His vitals are stable now, but we detected a mild heart attack. We’ve started him on medication and he’ll need rest, a strict diet, and no emotional stress whatsoever. Avoid any shocking or upsetting news."
Elena nodded slowly, eyes wide. "So we can’t tell him anything that might elevate his blood pressure?"
"Exactly. Not now."
She sighed. That meant more hiding. More pretending. Especially about Noah, the engagement, and everything else falling apart.
Meanwhile, in Noah’s office, Brielle sat across from him, her eyes glassy.
"He used to slam the door so hard, the baby would cry even before he shouted. One night, he... he pushed me. I fell, and the baby hit his head. I rushed him to the hospital, but it was too late. He died that same night."
Noah’s expression hardened. "Brielle... I’m so sorry."
She looked away, blinking back tears. "It’s why I can’t let him walk away. He took everything from me. Now he brags about a new girlfriend. Like nothing ever happened."
Noah leaned forward, voice quiet but strong. "We’ll make him answer. I promise."
She nodded, then said in a softer tone, "You’re the only person who’s believed me. You’ve made me feel safe. That’s rare."
Their eyes met for a lingering moment. But Noah looked away first.
Elena stood at the fresh produce aisle of the supermarket, selecting lemons and ginger for her father’s new heart-healthy diet, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Still obsessed with ginger, huh?"
She turned. Derek.
His boyish smile was the same. That confidence that had once charmed her to bits. He looked older now, more defined — and a little desperate.
"Derek," she said, blinking. "Wow. What a coincidence."
"Or fate. Who knows?" he replied. "Listen, I’ve been meaning to reach out. I was... stupid before. I messed things up. But I’ve never stopped thinking about you."
She gave a short laugh. "That’s bold. And a bit late."
He looked wounded. "Maybe. But I saw the tabloids. You and Noah... it doesn’t feel real. I know you. That’s not you."
Her smile dropped. "You don’t know anything about my life now."
"Then tell me," he said. "Let me make it up to you. Just dinner. One evening. No pressure."
She looked at him carefully. Part of her wanted to shut it down immediately. But another part — the hurt part — wondered if maybe Derek’s regret could offer a momentary escape.
"We’ll see," she said, picking up her bag. "I don’t make decisions on impulse anymore."
Later that evening, Isabel Blake knocked on the Carter home, arms full of chocolate, wine, and a bouquet.
"I come bearing peace offerings!" she said, grinning.
Elena’s mother welcomed her warmly. Isabel was the only Blake the Carter had connected with personally.
"I hope it’s okay I came unannounced," Isabel said, hugging Elena. "I just wanted to meet your siblings. The ones you’re always posting about."
Elena managed a smile. Isabel’s presence was a reminder of everything they were trying to keep intact — a false engagement, shaky emotions, and secrets hovering like storm clouds.
Meanwhile, Brielle sat alone in her small apartment, staring at an old photo — her and her baby boy, his toothless smile forever frozen in time. She wiped a tear as her phone lit up.
From: Noah "Court hearing scheduled for next Thursday. I’ll be there with you."
She typed back slowly: "Thank you. I don’t say that enough. I’m not sure where I’d be without you."
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then she added: "Sometimes I think if I’d met you first, life would’ve been different."
Then deleted it
The next morning, Elena checked her phone. Another message had come in.
“You think Derek showing up is random? Think again. Noah isn’t the only one playing you.”
Her breath caught.
Another text followed: “Check his call log. Ask him who he’s really been meeting after hours.”
Her hands shook. She was tired. Tired of being watched. Of being torn between two realities — one where she faked love, and one where she may have fallen into it.
Downstairs, she heard laughter. Isabel and her siblings. She put on a brave face and joined them.
Noah called later. She didn’t pick.
A flower delivery came that evening. No note. But she didn’t need one.
Derek.
Her world was spinning. Her father’s health was on edge. Brielle’s presence was growing. Derek was circling back.
And the anonymous texts?
Still coming.
"How do you tell what’s real," Elena whispered to herself, "when everything feels staged?"
That night, Noah knocked on her door.
She opened slowly. "Now’s not a good time."
He stepped inside anyway. "Then make time."
She crossed her arms. "What do you want me to say, Noah? That I’m fine? I’m not. My dad’s in the hospital. My ex is suddenly sending me flowers. Your... friend keeps popping up in the press. And I can’t sleep because someone is stalking me."
He softened. "I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve stepped in sooner."
She raised a brow. "Why didn’t you?"
He stepped closer. "Because I didn’t want to face what I was feeling. About you. About us. It stopped being pretend a long time ago, Elena. I just didn’t know how to admit it."
Her eyes welled up. "Then prove it. Be here. Mean it. Choose me."
He reached for her hand.
And for the first time, Elena didn’t pull away.
But deep in her inbox, another email came in — subject line:
"You’re not safe. And neither is he."
- Writer
