Chapter 6
The next day, an unexpected visitor arrived.
It was Warren, the Grant family's old butler.
Warren had been working for the Grant family for thirty years, serving them since Andrew's grandfather was still around.
Before Andrew ended up in prison, Warren was almost like a father to him.
When Warren arrived, he was carrying a box of pastries. "Mrs. Anna Grant, Mrs. Lucine Grant sent me to see how you're doing."
Lucine was Andrew's grandmother.
Back when Andrew was in trouble, the whole family cut him off, but Lucine was the only one who hired a lawyer and managed to get his death sentence reduced to a prison term.
We'd always gotten along well.
She was the only one from the Grant family who came to the hospital to stay with me when I was pregnant.
"Mrs. Lucine Grant said she caught wind of something," Warren said, setting the pastries on the table and pausing for a moment. "Mrs. Anna Grant, Mrs. Lucine Grant wanted me to pass on a message."
"Sure, what is it?" I replied.
"She said, 'Anna, things are more complicated than you think. That girl's not some ordinary girl. But don't be scared. I got your back.'
"She also said that when the time comes, she'll tell you herself."
I looked at Warren. "Warren, does Lucine know who Annie really is?"
Warren didn't answer my question.
He set the pastries down, gave a slight nod, and turned to leave.
When he reached the door, he paused. "Mrs. Anna Grant, Mrs. Lucine Grant also said, 'Tell Anna to take care of herself and not to overdo it.'"
The door closed behind him.
Lucine knew Annie's true identity. Andrew knew it, too.
Ethan had only gotten halfway through his investigation before someone shut him down.
Everyone else knew, except me.
That sense of being excluded twisted my stomach into knots.
*****
That afternoon, Andrew came back.
He was in a much better mood than he'd been the past few days.
He brought me my favorite bread from that shop I love, and a bouquet of lilies.
He'd given me lilies on our wedding day, too.
He arranged the lilies in the vase in the living room, placed the bread on the table, and then sat down beside me.
"Anna," Andrew said softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have messed with your people yesterday.
"I've already made sure the equipment was returned to Ethan."
I didn't look at him. "Did you have them return the information Ethan was investigating, too?"
He didn't answer that question. "I got you a present."
He pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was a diamond ring.
He said, "Back when we got married, we couldn't afford a ring. This is to make up for it."
He held the ring out to me.
I stared at the ring. It had to be worth at least over one million dollars.
"Andrew," I said.
"Yeah?" he replied.
"You think a ring is enough to shut me up?"
His hand froze in midair.
"Who is Annie?"
"Anna..."
"If you won't tell me, I'll find out myself. You can block me once, but you can't keep me from the truth forever.
"Or you can sign the divorce agreement right now, and I'll drop it. Who you spend your life with after that is your problem, not mine."
Andrew pulled the ring box back and stood up. The tenderness in his expression slowly disappeared.
He said, "Why can't you just accept how things are?
"I provide for you, keep you safe, and give you whatever you ask for.
"Why do you have to keep digging?"
"Because the secrets you're keeping from me must be way worse than just cheating on me," I said.
Andrew stormed upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.
Grace took the bread away.
I told her to throw out the lilies.
*****
Things took a sudden turn.
Three days later, Annie was hospitalized because of a threatened miscarriage.
I had nothing to do with it.
I hadn't even seen her.
Rumor had it that her emotions were all over the place, and she'd always been frail, so her pregnancy was never stable.
Andrew didn't get a wink of sleep for three days and nights, never leaving her side at the hospital.
Michael was the one who told me about it.
"Mrs. Grant, I'm really not messing with you this time. Andrew's out of his mind with worry," Michael said on the phone, sounding extra cautious. "The doctors say the baby might not make it."
I sat at home, listening to him, and then hung up.
Why should I care if the baby survived or not?
But after I hung up, I realized my hands were shaking.
Three years ago, the same hospital, the same threatened miscarriage.
Back then, Andrew stayed with me for three days and nights as well, watching over me the whole time.
But in the end, I lost the baby.
I had massive bleeding on the operating table, and the doctors told Andrew twice that I might not make it.
He stood in the hallway for six hours straight.
When I finally came out, the back of his shirt was soaked with sweat.
He took my hand, pressed it against his chest, and kept saying, "Close your eyes and don't look. I'll protect you."
Honestly, that was the line he'd said to me more than anything else, all the way from when we were kids.
Whether it was when my stepfather came at me with a bottle, or when I passed out from pain in the delivery room, Andrew was always there—putting himself between me and the world, covering my eyes with his hand.
He always said, "Close your eyes and don't look. I'll protect you."
Who was he protecting now?
I shook my head and told myself to forget it.
*****
I grabbed my coat and walked out the door.
I didn't go to the hospital. Instead, I headed straight for Annie's apartment.
Andrew wasn't around, and even the bodyguards had followed him to the hospital.
Ethan had managed to dig up the door lock code before he was stopped.
I entered the code, and the door opened.
The apartment was way cozier than I'd pictured.
Everywhere I looked, there were little signs of the two of them living together.
There were sticky notes on the fridge, in Andrew's handwriting.
They read: [Milk's on the second shelf. Drink two glasses a day.]
[I'll be home late tonight. Eat first. The food's in the pot.]
[Annie, don't wander around. It's cold outside.]
Our names were actually quite similar.
How ironic was that?