My heart thumping like a war drum, I walked out of the room before he could answer. I was too tired of crying over individuals who never inquired about my true feelings to want to cry. This, however, was too familiar.
The lack of sufficiency.
The eerie presence of a woman who was more appropriate for his society.
The only room that seemed like mine was the nursery, so I headed there. The small books were lined up on the shelf like silent promises, and the gentle pastels I had painted the previous week were now dry. I sat in the rocker and slowly massaged my stomach.
I muttered to the life developing inside of me, "I won't let you feel invisible." "Not as I did."
Meanwhile, on the other side of town...
With her legs crossed like a queen, Veronica sat in a cream velvet chair. Victoria Blackwood poured tea with robotic ease, her polished nails drumming lightly against the armrest.
Without introducing herself, Victoria stated, "She's unfit." "No class. No roots. A brief diversion.
Slowly, Veronica grinned. "She is merely the rebound." Ethan is someone I know. He always comes full circle.
Victoria's mouth quirked—acceptance? Maybe. Even if Grace is carrying his kid, you know what legacy means. You know what control is.
"Yes," Veronica responded with ease. "And I don't hesitate to fight for what I've lost."
Victoria's diamond bracelets clinked quietly as she handed her the teacup. "Good. Then it's time for someone to remind Ethan of his true self. And who ought to be by his side?
The two women toasted in chilling silence porcelain clinking like the first warning bell of war. Back in the nursery, I felt a strange shiver roll down my spine. And I knew, deep down, peace was slipping through my fingers.