Ella's POV
"Dee, what if Ellie walks in, like right now?"
"Cat, relax. She's out for the day. Besides, if she did walk in, nothing is going to happen. Last I checked, she's still blind."
My hand stops on the door handle.
They both laugh.
The sound makes me sick.
My chest feels so tight as I turn the handle slowly and push the door open slightly.
They're on the bed…our bed.
Catherine. The friend I love and treat like the sister I never had. She's wearing the lingerie I saw her buy last week, for a "special someone," she said.
And my husband.
My heart is beating fast. I hold onto the doorframe and take deep breaths to steady myself.
This can't be happening.
Not Devon. No.
I should leave. Walk away. Pretend I never came home early.
But I can't move.
"I feel bad for her though," Catherine murmurs, playing with Devon's hair.
"Don't." he says. "She's got money. Lots of it in a trust fund. I've been managing it since the accident."
"Really?" Catherine's voice drops. "She just seems so... helpless."
"That's obvious? You don't know half of it." Devon sighs. "I'm basically her slave. I feed her, dress her, read to her… I'm tired, Cat. I can't continue like this. Three years of my life.. gone."
"Then… divorce her. Or you want to tell me that you love her?"
I hold my breath, already knowing what he'll say but hoping… maybe… just maybe I'm wrong.
"Love?" Devon lets out a strange sound. "How can anyone love a thing like that?"
I raise the hand with my cane to my chest, gripping the doorframe so tightly my fingers begin to hurt.
His voice is cold. "You know, I've thought about this a lot. And… I just need to be smart so I don't lose out completely."
No. This isn't the same man I married. It can't be.
"Her trust fund is really the only good thing that came out of this… nonsense of a marriage," he sighs. "And if I divorce her now, I get nothing. Her family made sure of that."
"However…" He rubs his palms together, smiling. "If she's too sick to take care of herself… declared unstable… like she needs, you know, professional help..."
Catherine sits up. "Wait. What do you mean? Like in a hospital?"
"More like a facility. Long-term care. Her family already thinks she's a burden. I'll just need to convince them she needs professional care. Then I'll get power of attorney, and control all her money."
"Wow, you're going to have her committed? That's actually genius."
My cane slips and falls against the doorframe.
They both turn.
Devon is first to speak. "Ellie, what are you doing home early?" He sounds like I did something wrong.
I stand there. Don't speak. That's the role.
"Dee… she's just standing there and staring," Catherine whispers. "It's so …creepy. Does she know what's happening?"
Devon grabs the remote and turns on music before he draws Catherine close and whispers in her ear.
Suddenly I feel sick with disgust. I've heard and seen enough. How did I ever think this man loved me?
I force myself to play blind one last time.
I crouch, easily finding the cane, and rise. My hand curls tight around it and I turn.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Down the hall, away from the music, Catherine's giggles and my husband's plan to lock me away and take my money.
I reach the guest room, and lock the door.
Leaning against it, I take a deep breath, then toss the cane aside.
Walking to the mirror, I take off my dark glasses, and look at myself.
How did I get here?
Was I wrong? In loving him? In testing him?
It didn't matter anymore.
I grab my phone.
Message:
I'm done. Come get me.
Reply:
About time. I'll send the car. Thirty minutes.
I set the phone down and take another deep breath.
Three years.
I look around the guest room, his idea of me having peace and quiet.
Three years of playing blind and helpless.
And I really hoped he was the one. That he'd prove my family wrong.
But he failed.
Sighing, I get up and begin to pack.
I'm zipping the last box when my phone buzzes.
Message:
Car is outside. Lucas is driving.
Lucas. My family's head of security. The man who's been checking on me every week for three years, pretending to be a home health aide. The only person apart from my brother and father who knows the truth.
I head out but first, I stop by the master bedroom.
My husband and Catherine are still in bed, watching something on his phone.
"I'm going for a walk," I say.
They look up at the same and freeze.
Before any of them can speak, I'm off.
Down the hallway, out the front door, down the steps, into the cool night air.
Lucas is leaning against a black SUV. When he sees me, he smiles. "Welcome back, Miss Hartwell."
The name sounds strange. I haven't used it in three years.
"Let's go," I say.
I get in and Lucas starts the car.
Behind us, a door slams. Shouting.
I turn. Devon is on the front lawn, shirtless, running after the car. "Ellie! ELLA!"
I watch him shrink in the rearview mirror.
Lucas glances back. "Want me to stop?"
"No."
"Want me to run him over?"
I almost smile. "No."
"Shame."
We drive in silence for a minute. My heart is beating so fast and my hands are shaking.
I join them together, trying to stop the shaking.
Three years. Over in one night.
"You okay?" Lucas asks.
"Maybe ask me tomorrow."
"That's fair."
My phone rings. Devon. I decline.
It rings again. Decline.
Text messages flood in.
Devon: What is going on, Ellie?
Devon: Where are you?
Devon: Ellie, answer me.
Devon: You can READ THESE???
Devon: When did you get your sight back or have you been faking?
Devon: ANSWER ME
I turn off the phone.
"How mad is Alex?" I ask Lucas.
"About the plan? He's over it."
"About me staying three years?"
"That... he's furious about."
Great.
We pull up to a building. Not my old apartment. Somewhere new.
"Where are we?"
"The new headquarters. Alexander's waiting."
Right. The family business. The fifty-billion-dollar empire I walked away from to play house with a man who I was convinced loved me but didn't.
What was I thinking?
We ride the elevator to the top floor, and the doors open.
Alex is standing by the window. When he hears us, he turns and starts walking towards us.
He stops in front of me and looks me straight in the eye.
"If you ever do something this stupid again," he says, "I'm going to kill you myself."
"I know."
"Three years, Ella. I have missed you."
He pulls me into a hug and it's so tight, I can't breathe.
My throat tightens. "I've missed you too, brother."
He pulls back to study my face. His eyes are wet.
"Now." He lets me go, his face hardening. "Time to teach that low-life husband of yours a lesson."