Chapter 5

Emily stayed the night.

She crashed on the couch, and Alex set up a spot on the floor next to her.

Once the lights were off, the room was dark.

I couldn't sleep at all, staring at the ceiling.

The anger and resentment I'd felt when I first woke up and learned the truth gradually faded away. My mind was totally blank.

Not long after, Emily started complaining that it was too dark to sleep and told Alex to turn the lights back on.

Once the lights were on, she whined that the couch was uncomfortable and insisted on sleeping on the floor too.

Alex reached out, ready to help her move.

But then he paused, as if something occurred to him, got up and said, "I'll sleep in the next room. You're pregnant, so you should sleep early."

Emily huffed in disappointment. After a while, the room finally grew quiet.

I felt nauseous being here, so I tried to move my arms and legs, hoping to get out of bed and escape this disgusting place as soon as possible.

But after lying here for so long, my arms and legs felt totally numb, like they belonged to someone else.

Day after day, I could only lie there, watching Alex and Emily come and go, constantly flirting, bickering, and laughing.

On the second night Emily stayed over, she complained that the scent from the gardenia diffuser in the bedroom was way too strong and not good for her and the baby.

But the gardenia scent was very mild, and it was supposed to help people sleep.

Back when Alex was all about living on the edge, he'd race cars, drink like crazy, and pull all-nighters.

He barely got any real sleep, and his health took a serious hit.

After we got together, I tried to get him to stop living like that.

I searched everywhere before picking out this diffuser for him, hoping it would help him sleep better and calm down.

For the past two years, he probably kept using it out of habit.

When Emily wanted to throw out the gardenia diffuser, Alex hesitated for quite a while. He stood by the window, smoked a cigarette, and finally, with a reluctant frown, nodded his agreement.

On the fourth day, Emily said she wanted to hang the clothes she brought here in the closet.

This time, Alex didn't hesitate as long.

He glanced at me, still lying in bed, unmoving. After a moment, he called the housekeeper in to move my clothes out.

On the seventh day, Emily complained that the portrait I'd painted and hung on the wall was strange. It made her uncomfortable and freaked her out.

This time, Alex didn't hesitate.

He was on the phone, chatting with someone from his racing crew. When Emily brought it up, he waved his hand carelessly, silently telling her to take the painting out.

On the seventeenth day, not a shred of my presence remained in this bedroom. Except for me, still lying there out of place, like an intruder who had rudely overstayed his welcome.

The flowers on the windowsill had been swapped out for roses, Emily's favorite.

All the toiletries in the bathroom had been replaced with his-and-hers sets for Alex and Emily.

The only blemish on their perfect world was that I was still here.

Emily clung to Alex's arm, shaking it back and forth again. "Weren't you supposed to send Charlotte away in a few days? It's been forever. Why hasn't that hag come to get her yet?" she whined.

Alex was typing on his laptop. Maybe Emily's nagging made him end up making a typo, a flicker of irritation crossed his face as he pulled his hand back.

His explanation sounded impatient. "I told you, the fact that Charlotte hasn't woken up really hit Grace hard. That night, after Grace went home, she had a health episode, and she's still in the hospital."

Emily pouted. "If Grace can't come get her, why don't you call a car and send Charlotte over? Shipping a vegetable off is like shipping a package. It's not complicated, and you don't have to ask her."

Alex had been letting her get away with everything these past few days. Even when Emily said I was no different from a corpse, he didn't get mad.

But now, something she said must've finally gotten to him. He pushed her away and stood up.

He looked like he was at his limit. "Does Charlotte being here really bother you that much? You've gotten your kicks messing with her, moved all her stuff out, and now you can't wait to get rid of her?"

I was surprised that Alex seemed to be defending me.

They'd rather cram themselves onto the couch or crash on the floor to stay in the same room as me. I thought messing with me was their idea of fun.

Emily's eyes went red, as if she was about to cry. She looked shocked, pissed, and desperate all at once. "Alex, what's that supposed to mean? Are you blaming me?"

Alex slammed his laptop shut, grabbed his phone, and walked out without another word.

He only tossed over his shoulder, cold as ice, "I've got something to do. I'm heading out."

The bedroom fell into dead silence.

After a while, I could hear Emily's frantic and pitiful sobbing.