Chapter 4
On the third evening, a gentle drizzle began to fall.
The electronic lock on the front door chimed, and Edward pushed it open.
He cradled a woman in his arms, shielding her from the rain, her clothes soaked through.
Stella, dressed in a thin nightgown, huddled against him like a startled quail.
Edward ignored my stunned gaze as I sat on the couch, his voice low and soothing as he comforted Stella.
He gently settled her onto our priciest cashmere rug, right in the center of the living room.
Then he looked up at me, his tone gentle but with a firmness that made it clear he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Laurie, Stella's house caught fire because of faulty wiring. She's terrified," he said.
"It's not safe for her to stay in a hotel. She can't see, and she needs someone to look after her.
"She'll stay in our guest room for a few days until her place is fixed up."
Stella huddled on the edge of the couch, her eyes blank and unfocused, staring into the void.
She reached out, trying to find the glass of water on the coffee table, but her hand 'accidentally' swiped at it in midair.
Next to it, a rare, handcrafted music box was swept to the floor by her motion.
That was the token of our love, the one Edward had painstakingly crafted for me over a month as his proposal gift.
The sharp crash of breaking glass rang out in the living room, crystal shards scattering everywhere across the floor.
I shot to my feet.
But Edward moved even faster than I did.
He rushed over, gently caught Stella's hand still hanging in the air, frantically looking her over for any injuries.
"Are you hurt?" Edward asked Stella.
Once he was sure Stella was okay, he glanced at the broken pieces on the floor, then looked at me.
He said, "It's broken, Laurie. Breaking things means good luck, let's hope for peace.
"Stella can't see, so don't make that face. You'll scare her."
Hearing the commotion, Stella shrank back and started crying.
She sobbed, "I'm sorry, Laurie. I'm so clumsy.
"Not only did I fail to protect my guide dog, now I can't even manage to set down a glass without messing up.
"Edward, let me go. It'd be better for me to leave and die out there than stay here and make Laurie mad."
Edward's eyes turned red with worry as he pulled Stella into his arms, gently patting her back.
He turned to me, his eyes stern as he looked at me.
He said, "Laurie, if you're upset, take it out on me.
"Do you really have to take your anger out on someone with a disability? Where's your kindness?"
I kept my mouth shut, and didn't go off the rails like I used to.
I watched them, holding each other on my rug.
Then Edward headed into the kitchen to make some soothing soup for Stella, who was still shaken up.
To my surprise, he brought out the fish soup I'd spent six hours simmering, for me to help with my recovery and boost my milk supply.
He skillfully poured out half the soup, mixed in some millet, and got ready to turn on the stove.
I walked over and pressed down on the stove's switch.
"That's my medicinal soup," I said.
Edward frowned, but gently moved my hand aside.
He said, "Since you have aten, you can't possibly drink that much right now.
"Stella hasn't eaten all day, she's even weaker. It's some soup.
"I'll have the housekeeper make you a fresh batch tomorrow, something even better."
I stared at the scraps of my medicinal soup swirling in the pot, and suddenly felt a surge of disgust.
I let go of the stove and said quietly.
"No need. Make it for her," I said.
I turned and went upstairs, locked myself in the bedroom.
From the bottom drawer, I pulled out the spare key to my new apartment that Chloe had sent me.
I carefully folded the last few personal garments and tucked them into my suitcase.
This house had become nothing but a stage for their melodramatic performances and self-indulgence.
As for me, I was waiting for tomorrow, when my baby would be released from the hospital.