The Unwanted Son-in-law

chapter 2

Chloe threw open the car door, her heels clattering sharply against the driveway. Her voice cut through the stillness of the Hale estate like a blade.

“Do you want me dead or something? This… i***t almost ran me over!”

Adrian stumbled out after her, hands trembling as he closed the door. His mind spun, memories colliding—the old man’s voice booming inside him like distant thunder. His vision wavered. The walkway stretched beneath his bare feet, shadows twisting with every step. He felt it rising again, that strange, icy edge that came whenever he remembered that night. But today, it was sharper. Closer. Terrifying.

Is this it? he thought. The day he said I’d be remembered. The day I’d become something more.

If only he could get back inside. If only he could reach the safety of his room. If only he could check the calendar.

But Chloe’s fury had already erupted into the house. She stormed into the living room, arms flailing in perfect theatrical outrage.

“I told you not to let me go with him, but no! Mother, you insisted! He nearly drove us into a wall! If I hadn’t screamed, I’d be—dead! Do you hear me? DEAD!”

Margaret Hale stepped in quickly, wrapping her arms around Chloe in a protective hold, her eyes flicking to Adrian with a look that cut sharper than any words.

“How dare you, Adrian? How dare you nearly hurt her?” Margaret’s voice snapped like a whip, shaking the air. “Look at her face! Do you see that bump?”

Chloe tilted her head, pressing a reddening spot on her forehead for maximum effect, her sarcasm dripping like acid. “I need a new driver. This one? Completely useless.”

Adrian’s knees buckled. He leaned against the doorframe, the room tilting around him. Through blurred vision, he could see the Hale family gathered for lunch. Victoria stood near the table with her mother, directing the staff as plates were arranged. Her dark hair fell forward, and she absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear, her gaze flicking toward him with quiet calculation.

Adrian wanted to speak. He hadn’t meant it—just a moment, a lapse between thought and action. Forgive me, he wanted to say. But the words caught in his throat. His silence felt like chains tightening around him.

Margaret’s voice cracked like fire. “You fool! Do you realize what you’ve done? You could have seriously hurt her! Don’t just stand there like a ghost—look at the mess you’ve caused!”

Victoria’s head lifted, her tone measured, calm, but her eyes fixed on him, unreadable. “Mother, stop. Don’t call him a fool.”

Margaret spun toward her daughter, disbelief sharpening her features. “What? You’re defending him? He could have injured Chloe!”

Victoria’s voice sharpened, cutting through the tension. “And he could have been hurt too. Can’t you see? He’s not well.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, tossing her hair in exasperation. “Don’t make excuses for him, Victoria. He was completely out of it the whole way here. Red-faced, trembling… and now? He’s barely standing. Classic episode.”

“Chloe,” Victoria warned, her calm voice a knife-edge.

But Chloe smirked, relentless. “He almost ran me over! He’s an i***t, and I—”

“Enough!” Victoria’s voice snapped like a thunderclap, echoing through the room. She shoved a chair back and faced her sister, fury coiled beneath her composed exterior. “No one calls my husband an i***t… but me.”

The room froze. Margaret’s jaw dropped, and Chloe’s expression faltered, shocked into silence.

Victoria turned her piercing gaze on Adrian. “Come here. Now. Tell us… why?”

Adrian tried. One step. Then another. But halfway across the room, something inside him shattered. Pain lanced through his ribs, hot and suffocating. He lifted a trembling hand to his side, feeling his insides churn like a boiling cauldron. His breaths came jagged and ragged. He swerved, driven by one desperate thought: room. Now.

Chloe scoffed, arms folded, watching him retreat. “Look at him! He doesn’t even have the decency to answer us. Victoria, just get rid of him. He’s a liability.”

But Victoria’s gaze followed him, sharp and steady. “He doesn’t look well,” she said firmly. “Chloe, tell us what happened outside.”

Chloe flopped into her chair, rolling her eyes. “What do you want me to say? He was completely gone the whole way here. Red face, weird breathing… I thought he’d pass out at any second. He’s probably still dying in that room right now, and honestly? Let him. Who cares. Let’s eat.”

The family began their meal—the scrape of silverware, Chloe’s sighs, Margaret’s quiet muttering—but none of it reached Adrian once he shut his bedroom door.

He tried to block it all out, but his senses betrayed him. Every sound was sharper, every word closer. Even the dust motes in the sunlit room seemed alive, etched in unbearable detail.

He staggered to the wall, eyes locking on the calendar. Fingers shaking, he flipped the page.

May 30.

Adrian’s breath caught. The date burned itself into his mind. The same day he had met the old man—the day the episodes always returned. But this year… this year was different. The last year. The end of the bargain.

He collapsed to the floor, curling in on himself. “Aaah!” The scream tore out, raw, animalistic, echoing through the small room. Cold surged through him, crushing his lungs, freezing his bones from the inside out.

His ear pressed to the floorboards, straining to hear them below. Chloe’s sharp scoff. Margaret’s reprimands. Victoria’s calm but firm voice cutting through the din.

“I’m going to check on Adrian,” Victoria said softly. “He looked… off.”

“What? You’re actually worrying about him now?” Margaret snapped.

“Stay out of it, Mother. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Footsteps climbed the stairs. Adrian’s body shook as a darkness stirred within, coiling tighter with every heartbeat. Something ancient and hungry twisted through his nerves, clawing into his mind. Thoughts, visions, knowledge he had never known flooded through him, crashing into his skull like lightning.

The door burst open.

Victoria stood there, frozen. Her eyes locked on his.

Adrian couldn’t move. His body trembled, seized by whatever storm was clawing its way out. He caught the look in her eyes—the blood draining, pupils widening, her breath caught in raw fear.

Her voice trembled, barely a whisper.

“Oh my God…”