Chapter 3
I could hear a woman's laughter in the background, faint but unmistakable. It was Olivia Lane.
I walked to the window, phone in hand, and stared at the traffic below. "Okay," I said, and hung up.
At ten o'clock that night, I heard the front door open, followed by my mother-in-law's shrill voice.
"Michael, you're finally home. Look at what you brought home," she shouted.
"She comes back acting moody, won't cook, and locks herself in the bedroom like a lady of the house," Emily chimed in.
"Michael, you really need to put her in her place. She actually talked back to Mom today," Emily added.
"We feed her, we clothe her, and she can't even give us a grandchild. What right does she have to be so arrogant?" my mother-in-law spat.
Michael lowered his voice and said, "Mom, Em, don't get worked up. I'll go see what's going on."
His footsteps stopped outside the bedroom door. He tried the doorknob a couple of times, but it wouldn't budge.
"Honey, open up. It's me," Michael called out, knocking on the door.
I lay there on the bed, silent and still. I didn't even bother to respond.
There was a brief silence, then the sound of a key sliding into the lock. Click. The door swung open.
He had the key to the bedroom. He could come in whenever he wanted. In this house, I had no privacy.
He came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, making the mattress sink. He reached out to wrap his arms around me from behind.
"What's wrong? Did someone upset you today?" Michael asked, concern in his voice.
As he leaned in, a scent hit my nose: cedarwood cologne mixed with orange blossom, the same scent Olivia had worn earlier that afternoon.
My stomach churned with nausea, so I threw off the covers and sat up, dodging his hand.
Michael's hand froze in midair. "Honey?" he asked.
"Olivia came by today," I said. Michael pulled his arm back, his expression unchanged.
"Oh, I left an urgent document in the study, so I had her pick it up. What's wrong? Did she upset you?" he asked.
He sure knows how to put on a show, and he's got the excuses down, too.
"You never added my fingerprint to the front door lock. Olivia pressed her thumb, and the door opened," I said.
Michael paused for a moment. "How did she get our door's fingerprint? Did Mom set it up for her to grab packages?" he asked.
He's still putting on an act. "You never told me your study password, but Olivia punched in a few numbers and walked right in," I said.
Michael frowned. "Don't let your imagination run wild. I only gave her the password this afternoon to avoid delays. I'll change it tomorrow, alright?" he said.
He reached out to pull me closer, but I dodged again. "Michael, what am I to you?" I asked.
"I'm your wife, but I have to wait outside to get into our own home, and I can't even step into your study. Meanwhile, your assistant comes and goes as she pleases," I said.
Michael sighed. "Babe, you're really making a fuss today. Olivia's my assistant. There's nothing between us. Even this makes you jealous?" he said.
The way he acted all high and mighty was honestly hilarious.
His phone rang, cutting him off, buzzing from his suit pocket. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifted, and he answered right away.
Olivia's shaky voice came through, on the verge of tears. "Mr. Reed, my stomach hurts so bad. I think I ate something bad. There's no medicine and I'm all alone. I'm scared," she said.
Michael's impatience vanished. "What's wrong? Is it that bad? Don't move, and don't take any medicine yet," he said.
His voice dropped, all gentle and worried. "Okay, stay home and don't be scared. I'll bring you medicine right away," he added.