Chapter 3

Charles took a big step forward and grabbed my wrist.

His grip was so hard that it felt like he was trying to break my bones. "No, Emily, you're not," he said. "You were never merely the housekeeper's daughter."

His eyes were red, and he looked like he was losing control. "To me, you never were."

Twenty-four hours ago, his words would have made me incredibly happy.

But now, they only felt like a joke. "To you?" I pulled my wrist free gently.

He was much stronger than me, but when I looked at him without any emotion, he loosened his grip without thinking.

"Charles, does what you think matter?" I said. "When your mother said those words in the living room this afternoon, what were you doing? You gave me one look. One single look. And that look told me she was right."

All the color drained from his face. His lips moved, but he couldn't get a word out.

He couldn't argue with that, because it was the truth. His silence was the sharpest knife of all.

I kept talking, my voice so steady that it felt like I was telling someone else's story. "It's been twenty years, Charles.

"I always thought we were living in the same world. I thought we could stay like we were when we were kids.

"But that was all in my head. Ms. Wynn is beautiful, and she's a perfect match for you. Same background, same world.

"And me? I'm only the housekeeper's daughter. I never should have let myself want things I couldn't have."

"It wasn't in your head," he finally said, and he was almost shouting now. "Emily, it wasn't in your head."

I shook my head and stepped back to put some space between us. That was the distance someone like Charles and someone like me, the housekeeper's daughter, were supposed to keep.

"It doesn't matter whether it was or wasn't," I said flatly. "Charles, let me go. I'm asking you. Leave me with a little bit of dignity."

Tears filled my eyes, but I held them back with everything I had.

I couldn't cry. Crying would make it look like I didn't want to leave. Crying would make me seem like I was throwing a tantrum.

I was simply accepting what was meant to be.

Charles stood there without moving, his eyes fixed on me.

The storm in his eyes slowly calmed down, and what replaced it was a deep hopelessness.

In that moment, he seemed to understand something too.

He understood that what stood between us wasn't a single word or a misunderstanding. It was a gap he had pretended wasn't there since we were kids, a gap that could never be crossed.

He watched me walk past him with my suitcase.

This time, he didn't try to stop me. But as I passed him, I heard him say "I'm sorry" in a voice that was so hoarse that it barely came out.

I paused for a split second.

Then I walked out of that room without looking back. I walked out of the cage I had lived in for twenty years.

*****

My mom couldn't stop me in the end. She ran after me all the way to the front gate, tears running down her face without stopping.

"Emmy, how are you going to make it out there all alone?" she sobbed. "Apologize to Mrs. Goodman. She doesn't really want you gone."

I wiped her tears away. "Mom, she's not forcing me out. I'm leaving on my own. I graduated, so I can support myself and I can support you too. Once I get settled somewhere, I'll take you out of here."

My mom sobbed even harder.

She had spent her whole life in that house, and she was scared of everything and everyone outside of it.

I forced myself to be tough and called a rideshare. After I put my suitcase in the trunk, I turned around to take one last look.

The Goodman residence was all lit up, like some kind of beautiful palace.

Charles was standing at the window on the second floor.

I couldn't see his face clearly from that far away, but I knew he was watching me.

The car pulled away and left that palace far behind.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears finally came.

So long to the twenty years I spent growing up in that house. So long to the man I had loved for nearly a decade.