My Husband Murdered My Parents to Please His Mistress

Chapter 2

Now, he said he was sick of it.

I did not know whether he was tired of scrambled eggs, or tired of me after five years of living side by side.

Perhaps he noticed how unusually quiet I was that day, because Elijah took the initiative to speak.

“Stace, I doubled my rehab today. I’ll definitely be on my feet before the wedding. I’ll give you the most perfect wedding.”

Only then did I realize that whenever he lied, he never dared to look me in the eye.

I had almost wanted to ask him, ‘Was it fun, lying to me? Did treating me like a fool make you feel good?’

Just then, a frantic knock came from outside the door.

“Lijah, Lijah.”

It was Yvette.

“Lijah, my child and I really have nowhere to go. The landlord kicked us out. Could you let us stay here for a few days?”

Elijah coldly told Yvette to get lost, but the speed at which he pushed his wheelchair toward the door was anything but slow. If anything, it was faster than usual.

A man who was always calm and self-controlled suddenly started cursing.

“Have you no shame at all? Do you really think this place is a shelter? Yvette, you disgust me!”

He practically hurled every cruel word he could at her.

But the moment he saw the child soaked to the skin and shivering from the cold, a flicker of softness still passed through his eyes.

Then, almost instinctively, he looked at me.

Elijah had always been clever, so he tossed the decision to me.

But I knew perfectly well that if this mother and daughter moved in tonight, they would never leave again.

So I said, word by word, “I don’t agree.”

Elijah was visibly stunned, as though he had not expected me to refuse.

The little girl was called Isabelle Latham.

She suddenly threw her arms around Elijah’s leg and pleaded through tears, “Sir, please let us stay. Please?”

The moment Elijah’s hand touched Isabelle’s burning forehead, his expression changed at once.

He immediately lifted the child onto his wheelchair and sharply called for the family doctor.

Then he turned and blamed Yvette.

“What kind of mother are you? Isabelle has a fever, and you still let her get caught in the rain?”

His words sounded harsh, but the concern in his voice could not be hidden at all.

Yvette hurried after him and explained in a flustered voice, “I didn’t know...”

At that moment, Elijah forgot all about me.

I stood there like an irrelevant outsider.

In the end, the doctor said Isabelle had only caught a slight chill.

When Elijah saw my reddened eyes, he walked over, took my hand tightly in his, and comforted me in a low voice.

“I’m sorry. I’ll find them a place as soon as possible and have them move out. Stace, it’ll only be for a few days.”

But I knew that deep down, he had already made his choice.

I had only gone to the bathroom. Just a few minutes later, when I came back, I saw that Yvette was already sitting in my seat at the table, eating.

And Elijah was feeding the child, wearing a kind of tenderness on his face that I had never seen before.

It was as though the man who had just lost control and hurled abuse at her had never been him at all.

Yvette turned back, looked at me, and smiled with open provocation.

Then she picked up a piece of okra and placed it in Elijah’s bowl.

It was the vegetable Elijah hated most.

Over the past five years, I had begged him many times to eat at least a little of it.

I had asked him, “Can’t you make an exception just once for me?”

But he had always said that what he disliked, he disliked.

And yet the very next second, right in front of me, Elijah calmly ate the piece of okra.

In that instant, it felt like a silent humiliation landing hard across my face.

Then he turned back to me and said lightly, “Stace, remember to clean the wheelchair tonight. And disinfect the rehab equipment in the study while you’re at it.”

His tone was so casual, as though he were giving instructions to the housemaid.

At that moment, I suddenly understood.

It had only been five years.

But ahead of me, there were still so many more five-year stretches in life.

When I pulled out my suitcase, an unfamiliar number suddenly sent me a flood of videos.

Every clip showed Elijah late at night, gently coaxing Isabelle to sleep.

My fingers trembled as I rushed to check the security footage at home.

Only then did I find out that every single night, he would first coax me into taking sleeping pills, then quietly slip out of the house.