Chapter 2
Richard's words poured over Helen like a bucket of ice water, making her shiver all over.
A cold shiver crawled up from her feet and wrapped around her heart.
She'd pictured a thousand different ways their reunion might go.
She'd imagined surprise, joy, a warm embrace, maybe even a little grumbling about her not giving him a heads-up.
But what she saw now? That wasn't any of them.
It was like he was interrogating her, like she was the one at fault.
It was as if she was the outsider here, someone who shouldn't have shown up.
Helen clung to the doorframe for support, barely able to keep herself upright.
Her gaze drifted past Richard and landed on Linda Parker.
Linda had already gotten her composure back. She stood up and gave Helen a polite smile.
"You must be Helen. Rich talks about you all the time," Linda said.
Her tone was so casual that Helen might as well have been a guest from out of town.
Helen's heart kept sinking, lower and lower.
Rich.
She said it easily.
Helen ignored Linda completely, her eyes fixed on Richard as if she could see straight through him.
"Who is she?" Helen forced the words out, and the question hung in the air.
Her voice came out so hoarse, she barely recognized it as her own.
Richard's expression turned awkward as he got to his feet, his whole demeanor suddenly defensive.
He said, "This is Linda Parker. I told you about her before. She's a distant relative of Leon's.
"After Leon passed, things were hard for her on her own, so I asked her to come over and lend a hand with the cooking and the cleaning.
"Don't read too much into it."
Helen almost laughed.
Read too much into it.
Would a housekeeper sit down and eat at the same table as the man of the house?
Would a housekeeper wear loungewear that nice and talk to him in that tone?
Would a housekeeper get Richard to take their wedding photo off the wall?
"Is that so?" Helen's voice came out cold and unsteady. "Then where did our wedding photo go?"
Richard glanced away, refusing to meet Helen's eyes.
"That old photo was getting pretty faded, so I just packed it up," he muttered.
"Linda thought a landscape painting would open the room up," he added, as if he needed an excuse.
Linda again.
Helen felt like a joke.
The biggest joke there had ever been.
She'd been out there, busting her back taking care of Keith, her whole body aching from the effort.
Meanwhile he was living like a king at home, with a so-called housekeeper making everything easy for him.
He'd swapped out the sofa, replaced the pictures on the wall.
There was almost nothing left in that apartment with her mark on it.
"Richard," Helen said, her voice steady and cold. "Look at me."
Richard looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
Linda jumped in, trying to break the awkward silence.
She smiled and reached out for Helen's suitcase.
She said, "Helen, you must be worn out from the trip. Come in, sit down, and take a load off.
"You should have let Rich know you were coming. He didn't have a chance to get anything ready for you.
"Seriously, Rich and I are just friends. Don't get the wrong idea, okay?"
The moment Linda's hand touched the suitcase handle, Helen yanked it away.
She pulled back so fast it was like she'd been burned.
"Don't touch my things!" Helen barked.
Her voice rang out, sharp and cold as ice.
Linda flinched, snatching her hand back, her face flushing with awkwardness.
Richard's face went dark.
"Helen, what the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped.
"Linda was only trying to help. What is wrong with you?
"You haven't been home in two years, and she's the one who's been taking care of me. Without her I'd have fallen apart by now!"
Helen felt those words land somewhere deep and open her up.
Taking care of him.
Then who was the man in all those video calls, bragging about how well he ate and slept?
Who was the one telling her not to worry, saying everything was fine?
All of it had been a lie.
She'd been out there, working herself to the bone, while he was at home, living it up with another woman.
And in the end she was the one who looked like the troublemaker, making a fuss over nothing.
Helen was shaking with anger.
She pointed at Linda, staring straight at Richard.
"She's taking care of you? She's a distant relative. What gives her the right to move in here and run the place?" Helen snapped.
"What is going on between you two?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger.
Her question shattered the illusion, tearing down every last bit of pretense and exposing the ugly truth for everyone to see.
Linda's polite smile slipped right off her face.
For a moment, her eyes flashed with resentment, but she quickly switched to looking hurt and vulnerable.
She turned to Richard, her eyes going red with tears.
"Rich, I..." Linda stammered, her voice shaking.
Richard saw her like that and his heart ached for her.
He slammed his hand on the table and pointed right at Helen, yelling.
"That's enough!
"There's nothing going on between us. We're just friends. Why are you acting like I'm on trial here? What's your problem?
"I'm still the one who calls the shots in this house.
"I decide who gets to live here!"
He stepped forward, standing protectively in front of Linda, as if shielding her from Helen.
That gesture was like a knife, stabbing straight into Helen's heart and shattering it completely.
Forty years of marriage.
In the end, he treated her worse than a stranger.
She'd given her whole life to this family.
And now, in this house, she felt like a thief.
She was a thief in the eyes of the one man who should have welcomed her, watched, and resented her in her own house.
Helen looked at the man in front of her, a man she had known so well and no longer knew at all, and suddenly none of it seemed worth the effort.
Every question and every bit of her anger sank into him the way a fist sinks into cotton, with no reaction at all.
No, it was more like slamming into a rock.
A cold, unfeeling rock.
And her own heart was starting to turn just as cold and hard.
All of a sudden, she lost the will to fight.
She felt utterly drained.
Helen fixed her gaze on Richard, her voice cool and even.
"Tell her to leave," she said, her voice calm but unyielding.
Richard was stunned.
Linda's expression shifted, caught off guard.
Helen repeated herself, her voice quiet but crystal clear.
"This is my home. I want her out, and I want her out now," she said, her tone calm but unyielding.
Richard's anger flared up again.
He said, "What right do you have? Linda lives here and she isn't causing you any trouble.
"It's getting dark. Where do you expect a woman her age to go?"
Helen let out a cold, mocking laugh.
"Where she goes is none of my business.
"Tonight, it's either her or me. One of us has to go."
With that, she just stood silently in the entryway, staring at Richard, as if waiting for him to make his choice.
It was like she was waiting for the final verdict.
Richard's chest was heaving, clearly furious.
He glanced at Helen, then at Linda, who looked like she was on the verge of tears.
After a few seconds, he made his choice.
He turned to Helen, his voice cold as ice.
He said, "Alright, you've got some nerve.
"Then you're the one who should leave.
"Go get yourself a hotel room tonight. We both need to cool off. We'll deal with this tomorrow."