Chapter 4 Uninvited Guest

Clarissa

I stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the door Aaron had just disappeared behind. My mind raced, trying to process what I'd overheard. His voice, muffled but clear enough, rang in my ears-discussions about business and secrets, things I wasn't supposed to hear. For a moment, I wondered if I had misunderstood. What was it that I shouldn't know about?

Could Aaron still be hiding things from me?

I wanted to barge in, to confront him right there, but I wasn't ready yet. Timing was everything, and I couldn't afford to slip. Not when I was so close to setting everything in motion. I had to bide my time, be patient, like a snake waiting to strike. So, I turned on my heel, heading back toward the kitchen, but my legs felt weak.

Just then, my phone rang, cutting through the tension like a blade. I cursed under my breath, scrambling to silence it before Aaron heard. But it was too late. The door creaked open, and there he was, his eyes locking onto mine. His gaze was heavy, questioning.

"Who was that?" he asked, his tone casual, but I knew better than to trust it.

"No one important," I lied smoothly, sliding my phone into my pocket. I could feel the weight of his stare lingering on me, like he didn't believe me but wasn't going to press further. Not now, at least.

He sighed and stepped out of the room, his presence suddenly oppressive in the narrow hallway. "You alright?" he asked, his voice softer, like he was genuinely concerned.

For a fleeting second, I almost let myself believe he cared. That somewhere underneath the lies, the betrayals, and the endless charades, the Aaron I once loved still existed. But then I remembered. I remembered the wreckage he left in his wake-the devastation my family suffered, my father's death, the humiliation.

I forced a tight smile, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just coming to tell you the maid has prepared something to eat. Thought you might want to join me."

Aaron hesitated, his brows knitting together as if he was weighing whether to agree or not. For a moment, I thought he'd refuse, but then he nodded. "Sure. Let's go."

We walked down the stairs in silence, the tension between us strong, thick enough to cut. I kept my eyes ahead, refusing to look at him, refusing to let him see the storm brewing behind my composed exterior. The dining room felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just me. I couldn't tell anymore. Every corner of this house felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in, threatening to crush me beneath the weight of everything I was holding in.

We sat across from each other at the table, the clatter of cutlery the only sound breaking the silence. My mind raced, replaying his phone conversation over and over. What else was he hiding? What was that thing I shouldn't find out? Did I really know Aaron like I claimed or was there another mask he was wearing that I didn't know about? What secrets was he keeping buried? My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the fork, but I steadied myself. I couldn't afford to show any weakness.

Aaron glanced up at me, his gaze unreadable. "Is everything alright? You seem... distracted."

I looked up, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, the weight of his stare almost made me falter. Almost. "Just thinking about some things," I replied vaguely, stabbing a piece of food with more force than necessary.

Aaron's lips pressed into a thin line, and I could tell he wanted to ask more, but he didn't. He never did. He'd always been good at playing the part, pretending everything was fine when it wasn't. Just like me.

We ate in silence for a few more minutes before there was a knock at the door. I frowned, pushing back my chair and standing up. "I'll get it," I said quickly, eager for any excuse to leave the table, to put some distance between us.

As I approached the front door, a familiar unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't expecting anyone. Who could it be?

I opened the door, and there she was-my mother, standing on the porch with a look that was equal parts concern and disappointment. Her presence hit me like a wave, the cold wind from outside rushing in, making the air even more unbearable.

"Mom," I breathed, my heart sinking. I hadn't told her about the state of things with Aaron, and the last thing I needed was her probing questions.

"Clarissa," she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. She scanned the hallway, her eyes landing on the dining room where Aaron sat, his back to us.

I felt the familiar pang of shame twist in my gut. Of all people, my mother was the last one I wanted to see me in this sham of a marriage. She had high hopes for me once, and looked where I'd ended up-trapped in a marriage with the man who destroyed everything, pretending everything was fine.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.