Collateral Bride

Chapter 2: The Summon

“Hello?” My fingers tightened around the steering wheel as I picked up the call, my eyes still fixed on the road even though my thoughts were no longer there. The voice that answered carried a familiar weight I hadn’t heard in years, careful and uncertain at the same time.

“Darcy… it’s Leonard.”

I didn’t respond immediately. My throat felt tight, like my body already knew this conversation would pull me somewhere I wasn’t ready to go. Cars moved around me, horns sounding distant, like I was hearing them from under water.

“What do you want?” I finally asked, keeping my voice steady even though my chest didn’t feel steady at all.

Leonard sighed before speaking again. “I wish I was calling for something else. Your father….. he's …he is very sick. It’s serious this time. He keeps asking for you.”

My grip on the phone loosened a little, then tightened again. I didn't like how those words still had the power to shake something inside me. I told myself I didn’t care anymore, that chapter had ended years ago.

“He made his choices,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “I wasn’t part of those choices.”

There was a pause on the line before Leonard spoke again, quieter now. “I know. But he’s asking for you, Darcy. That’s all I can say.”

The call ended without another word from him. I stared at the screen long after it went dark, my fingers still hovering as if the conversation might restart itself. My chest felt heavy, not from sadness alone, but from memories I had tried hard to bury.

My father wasn’t just sick in a hospital somewhere. In my mind, he was still the man who decided my future without asking me once. The man who handed me over to Frank like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I pulled the car to the side of the road without really thinking about it. My head rested against the steering wheel as I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. The silence inside the car felt louder than the traffic outside.

Frank’s voice came back to me without permission, the way he used to talk when he wanted control disguised as care. My father had called it “a good match,” like my life was something to be arranged instead of lived. That thought alone made my stomach twist.

My phone buzzed again, breaking through the memory. It was Stacy. I hesitated before answering, unsure of what version of myself would speak if I picked up. Eventually, I swiped the screen and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hey babe, you home?,” Stacy asked before I could even greet her. Her tone was light, but I knew her well enough to hear the concern hiding underneath it.

I let out a short breath, trying to find the right words. “Leonard called,” I said. “My father is sick. He wants me to come.”

Silence followed. Not the kind that meant confusion, but the kind that meant she was choosing her words carefully. When she finally spoke, her voice had softened. “And what do you want?”

That question caught me a little off guard. I stared out through the windshield, watching people move past my car like nothing had shifted in their world. I wished my answer was simple, but it wasn’t.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Part of me wants to ignore it. Another part feels like if I don’t go, I’ll regret it later.”

Stacy exhaled on the other end. “Then don’t decide out of guilt. Decide for you. If you go, go because you want answers, not because they’re calling you back into old chains.”

Her words settled inside me in a way I didn’t quite expect. I closed my eyes again, this time not fighting the memories but letting them pass through me. My father’s silence when I cried. The way he dismissed my fears about Frank. The way he always believed control meant protection.

“I’ll go,” I said finally, before I could talk myself out of it.

“Okay,” Stacy replied after a short pause. “But stay aware, Darcy. People like that don’t suddenly change just because they’re sick.”

“I know,” I said, even though I wasn’t fully sure I did. We ended the call with her promise to check on me later, and I stayed in the parked car for a few minutes longer, just sitting with my decision.

By the time I started driving again, the sky had shifted into a dull orange, the kind that meant evening was close. The road toward my father’s mansion wasn’t one I had taken in years, yet my hands remembered it like muscle memory. Every turn felt heavier than the last.

As I drove, I caught myself thinking about Frank again. Not missing him, not even forgiving him, just remembering how easily my life had once been controlled by other people’s decisions. My father had started it, Frank had continued it, and I had lived inside it for too long.

The mansion came into view long before I reached it. High gates, long driveway, walls that looked unchanged by time. It still had that same cold presence, like it wasn’t built for warmth but for distance. My foot pressed lightly on the brake as I slowed down.

I parked outside the main gate instead of driving straight in. For a moment, I just sat there staring at it, my hand resting on the door handle without opening it. This place held too many versions of me I didn’t recognize anymore.

Finally, I stepped out of the car. The air outside felt heavier than I remembered, pressing against my skin as I walked toward the gate. Before I could reach it, I noticed movement near the entrance, shadows shifting where there should have been none.

Two men stepped forward before I could even touch the gate. They weren’t guards I remembered from before, but their presence was enough to make my steps slow. One of them crossed his arms while the other looked at me with a blank expression.

“This is a private property,” the first man said, blocking the path completely. My breath caught slightly, not from fear, but from the realization that something about this visit was already wrong.

“I know where I am,” I replied, my voice steady as I met his gaze. “I’m here to see my father.”

The second guard exchanged a quick look with the first before shaking his head. “No visitors are allowed inside,” he said. “Orders from above.”

I frowned, stepping a little closer despite the warning in their posture. “From above? I’m his daughter.”

The first guard didn’t move. His voice stayed firm, almost rehearsed. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not allowed in.”

I stood there for a moment, staring at both of them, feeling something shift inside me that I couldn’t name yet. The mansion behind them looked the same, but the rules around it no longer did. Then the second guard reached for his radio, speaking a single sentence that made both of them straighten instantly.

“Alert the house,” he said, eyes locked on me. “She’s here.”