Nathan's Pov

It was a basement. Concrete floor. Pipes running across the ceiling. One bulb hanging off a wire. And Jessica, curled up on the floor, hair was a mess, mascara smeared, eyes red.

"Please," she was saying, her voice shaking. "Please help me. My sister locked me in here. She stole the wedding from me. She wanted Nathan for herself. She locked me in the basement. Please. Somebody."

The video was cut off.

I looked up at Olivia. She was watching me, waiting.

I held up the phone. "What is this?"

Her face was drained of color. Her eyes widened. "WHAT?"

"Your sister. Locked in a basement. Crying. Saying you did this to her."

She shook her head, hands starting to shake harder. "That's not true. I didn't do that. I never did that."

"She's on video, Olivia. Right there. Crying. Saying you locked her up…In the basement. What do you have to say to that?"

"That's not true!" Her voice came up for the first time. "I never locked her anywhere. I never would."

"Then why's she saying you did."

"I don't know! She lies! She always lies! She is just trying to sabotage me! She always does this! Please believe me! I had no hand in this!"

I laughed, broken and ugly. "She's lying. Right. Because she's the liar and you're the saint."

Olivia stood up. Her hands had curled into fists at her sides.

"I am the victim," she said. "I've been the victim my whole life. My entire family has treated me like trash since I was a kid and I never did one thing to deserve it."

"Your sister's on video…"

"Jessica has been cruel to me since the day she was born!" Her voice cracked right down the middle. "She's mocked me. Made me feel like nothing. Over and over. And now she's doing it again and you're falling for it. Just like everybody always does."

I opened my mouth. Closed it. She was breathing hard, her chest going up and down fast, and there were tears on her face now too. It didn't look fake.

But Jessica's video. Jessica's face. Jessica's tears.

I genuinely didn't know who to believe.

Before I could figure out what to say, the door opened.

A woman walked in. She was older, had gray hair, and a suit that cost a fortune. My mother. Patricia Hayes.

She stopped in the doorway and her eyes moved across the room. The bed. The sheets everywhere. Me. Olivia.

"What is going on here," she said. Cold and flat. Her disappointed voice.

"Mother," I said. "I can explain…”

"I'm sure you can." She walked in,her heels clicking on the floor, and stopped right in front of Olivia, looking her up and down at her." And who is this?" She was clearly irritated.

"Olivia Morgan," I said. "She's... my wife."

Patricia's eyes went wide for half a second. Her face didn't move but her eyes turned to ice.

"Your what."

"My wife. Apparently. From last night. When I was drunk."

She turned to look at me with her eyes sharp. "You married this woman while you were drunk?"

"It wasn't supposed to be her," I said fast. "It was supposed to be Jessica. The younger one. Something went wrong."

"Something went wrong," she repeated. She turned back to Olivia, eyes crawling over her face, her dress, her hands, her hair. "You look like a servant."

Olivia flinched.

"I cut my business trip short to come home and find my son married to a stranger," Patricia went on. "A stranger who looks like she crawled out of a gutter. What did you do to my son." She looked stunned.

"I didn't do anything," Olivia said. Her voice had gone small. The fight from earlier was gone, replaced with something closer to fear.

"Don't lie to me. I know your type. You saw money and you took your shot."

"That's not what happened." She said softly.

"Then what happened." Patricia's voice cut like glass. "Explain why my son woke up married to a woman he's never met. Explain why his actual fiancée is missing. Explain why I'm looking at a gold-digger who thinks she can marry her way into this family."

"I'm not a gold-digger," Olivia said, voice shaking. "I was forced into this. My father…"

"Your father." Patricia laughed. An ugly sound. "That's your excuse? Daddy made me do it?"

"Yes! He told me if I refused he'd throw me out. I had nothing. No one. No choice."

"There's always a choice," Patricia said flat. "You chose to trap my son into a marriage. You chose to ruin his engagement to a perfectly good woman. And now you want sympathy?"

"Mother." My voice came out sharper than I meant it. "That's enough."

She turned on me. "Don't tell me what's enough, Nathan! You're the one who got drunk and married a stranger! You made this mess! Now, I have to clean it up! Like always! I thought you were going to be responsible just this once!" She looked sternly at my face.

"I didn't know what I was doing…"

"Exactly. You never do. You drink, you wreck something, and I fix it. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME."

I started to respond. Then more footsteps came up the stairs. Two sets this time.

Richard Morgan came through the door first. Then, Diane followed him. His face was completely blank.

"Nathan," Richard said, as he stretched his hand out. "My sincerest apologies."

I looked at his hand and didn't take it.

"Apologies for what. Giving me your other daughter? Getting me drunk and shoving a marriage certificate in front of me? Wrecking my engagement?"

His face didn't shift. He lowered his hand. "I understand you're upset. This must be confusing."

"Confusing." I laughed. "It's insane. Completely insane."

"I agree," Richard said. "My daughter has a habit of causing problems." His face gave a quiet melancholy expression–downturned, heavy-lidded eyes, a small downward curved mouth with furrowed eyebrows.

I looked at him, then at Olivia, who'd backed into the corner of the room, arms wrapped around herself, crying profusely. Something in me wanted to believe her but the evidence said otherwise.

"What's that supposed to mean," I said.

Richard sighed. The boardroom sigh. "Olivia has always been difficult. Jealous of Jessica. She has been her whole life. When she found out Jessica was marrying you, she got desperate and locked Jessica in the basement. That was when she stole the wedding for herself."

"That's not true," Olivia said, shaking. "That's not what happened."

"Quiet!" Richard didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes on me. "You should know. My daughter isn't well. Always been unstable. We tried therapy. She wouldn't go. This is just who she is."

"I'm not unstable," Olivia said, louder. "You're all lying!"

Diane stepped forward, face soft and worried. The picture of a concerned mother.

"Olivia," she said softly. "Please don't make this worse."

"Worse?" Olivia's voice cracked. "You sold me! And now you're standing here acting like I'm the crazy one?"

"We didn't sell you," Diane said gently. "We tried to help you. We've always tried."

"You locked me in my room when I was ten!" Olivia was breaking apart now. "Three days! With a bucket! Nobody checked on me. Not even once!"

Diane's face stayed exactly the same. "You broke a vase. You needed to learn something."

"I was ten years old!"

"Enough!" Richard's voice cut through, sharp, and he stepped between the two of them. The mask had slipped off his face now. Just cold underneath. "This is embarrassing. You're embarrassing yourself. Embarrassing this whole family."

"Embarrassing," Olivia repeated and laughed, hollow and broken. "Right. That's what this is about."

"This is about you ruining everything," Richard said. "Being selfish. Taking something that was never yours."

"It was never going to be mine anyway," she said. "You made sure of that a long time ago."

I looked at her wet face, her whole body shaking, like she might just fold up right there on the floor.

Then I looked at Richard. Cold and controlled. 

But the video. Jessica's face. Jessica's tears.

I still didn't know who to believe.

"This is a mess," I said quietly. "A complete mess."

"That's exactly what I was thinking." Patricia had been quiet, watching, and now she stepped in. "We annul this marriage. Right now."

"You can't," Richard said. "The merger's already moving. Contracts are signed. We pull out now, we lose everything."

"So? I'm just supposed to stay married to a stranger," I said. "Who may or may not have done any of what you're claiming?"

"For now," Richard said. "A year. One year. After that you quietly divorce. Nobody has to know anything. The merger goes through. Everyone gets what they came for."

"Everyone except me," Olivia said.

Richard didn't even glance at her. "Best solution on the table. Temporary. One year and we all move forward."

I looked at Olivia. She was staring at the floor now, not at her father, not at anyone. Her eyes were empty, like she'd already given up somewhere in the middle of all this.

"One year," I said, flat. "You want me married to her for a year."

"Yes."

"And what happens to her during that year."

"Not my concern," Richard said. "She married you. She's your problem now."

I looked at her again. Small and wrecked. Defeated in a way that made something in my chest twist even through all the anger.

"Fine," I said. The word tasted like nothing good. "One year. Then she's gone. Quietly. Nobody talks about this again."

"Agreed," Richard said.

"And she stays out of sight," Patricia added. "I don't want to see her. I don't want to hear her voice. She can live here, but she's invisible."

"Mother…"

"I mean it, Nathan. If she's staying she follows my rules. She doesn't leave her room. She doesn't talk to anyone. Doesn't go anywhere. She doesn't exist."

I looked at Olivia. Her eyes had closed. One tear slid down and she didn't bother wiping it away.

"I'll stay out of sight," she said, barely audible. "I'll do whatever's asked. Just don't throw me out."

"Nobody's throwing you out," Richard said, cold. "You're staying exactly where you belong."

"Out of the way," Patricia said.

"Out of the way," Richard agreed.

They turned to leave. Patricia first. Richard right behind. Diane lingered at the door for a second, looked back at Olivia with that same soft, worried-mother face.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," she said.

Then she left too.

The door shut.

I stood in the middle of the room with my head still pounding. Married. To a stranger. A stranger who might have just destroyed my entire life, or might not have done anything at all.

I looked at her. Still in the corner. Still crying. Still shaking.

"Olivia," I said.

Nothing.

"Olivia. Look at me."

She lifted her head. Eyes red and swollen and wrecked.

"One year," I said. "That's what you get. One year. Then you're gone."

"I understand," she said.

I walked to the door and stopped with my hand on the handle. Didn't turn around.

"Stay out of my way," I said.

"Out of my sight. Don't expect anything from me. Not kindness. Not warmth. Nothing at all. If you break this rule, you will feel my wrath."

"I don't expect anything," she said. "I stopped expecting things a long time ago.”

Olivia's POV

He pressed his lips against mine and held my waist. I stood there frozen. “Say my name,” he said. I murmured, “Nathan.”

“Say it again.”

I moaned his name, “Nathan.”

I opened my eyes and it was morning. I was breathing hard. I was sweating profusely. “My goodness. It's a dream.” I whispered. I took a deep breath and touched my lips. It felt so real. “But wait a damn minute. Why am I even dreaming about Nathan? I blinked severally searching for an answer. One month. Thirty days. I counted every one. That's how long I have been here. To be honest, he hasn't been so cruel to me. Not to the level that I was expecting. I shook the feeling off. It's just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.

I still wasn't used to the quiet. The type was the depressing type. It makes it hard to get a full breath in. Barely no footsteps. No voices. No TV somewhere down the hall. Nothing. Some days I thought maybe I'd gone deaf. Other days I thought maybe I was dead and this was what came next.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my knees to my chest and arms around them. I'd been like that for hours. 

Days blurred. I wake up. Stare at the ceiling. Wait for Mia. Maybe eat. Stare at the wall. Wait for dark. Sleep. Again. Jessica had gotten what she wanted. Also making me the villain while she plays victim. She knew my parents didn't want her to marry Nathan because they were afraid she won't be happy here. Pathetic liars.

I heard footsteps in the hall. Soft. Careful. I knew who it was before the door opened. Mia. The only one who came. The only one who remembered I was still in here.

She came in with the tray, hip against the door to push it open. Same tray. Same food. Toast. Eggs. Orange juice. Every morning for a month. I didn't know how she kept bringing food she already knew I barely touched.

She set it on the table by the window. Wood table, scratch on the left corner. 

She looked at me. Her eyes went over my face — the hollows under my cheeks, my collarbones sticking out more than they used to, the circles under my eyes that sleep wasn't fixing. I knew I looked bad. I could feel my bones pressing against my skin like they wanted out.

I tried to smile. It felt wrong. Like I'd forgotten how to do it right.

"You need to eat, Olivia, my daughter.” she said with her soft voice. Like she was talking to something that might bolt. "You've lost so much weight. You look terrible. Do you plan to lose your life before you get out of here?"

I laughed, “Hahahahahaha!” It came out really loud. "I'll eat later."

She opened her mouth like she was going to push it. Her hands gripped the tray. I watched her decide whether to fight me on it. She didn't.

Then the phone rang.

I jumped. My whole body flinched. The phone on the nightstand — white, sleek, I'd never touched it once. Didn't even know it worked. Who would call me here? Who knew I was here?

Mia looked at it, then at me. "You want me to get it?"

I shook my head. My throat felt tight. "No. I'll get it.” I looked firmly at it.

She stood there a second, like she wanted to stay, like she wanted to get between me and whatever was coming through that line. Then she nodded and left, shutting the door soft behind her.

I stared at the phone. It rang again. My hand shook when I picked it up. I don't know why I answered. Everything in me said don't. Say nothing. Disappear, like you're supposed to.

I answered anyway. Stupid me.

"Hello?" A soft voice. "Olivia."

That voice hit me like a slap. I knew it right away. Sweet, sing-song, the kind that flips to poison fast. It was Jessica.

My fingers went numb on the phone. I wanted to hang up. I wanted to throw it at the wall and watch it break. Instead I just sat there. Frozen.

"I was hoping you'd pick up. You know." I could feel her smile in her voice. "How's married life treating you?"

"What do you want?" My voice came out small. I hated that. Hated that she could still do this to me.

She laughed. That light little laugh. The one that made everyone think she was sweet. I'd heard it a thousand times, right before the knife went in.

"Just checking on my sister. Heard you're locked up in there like a prisoner. Is that true?"

I said nothing. 

"It must be so hard." Fake sympathy all over it. "You love being around people so much. Oh wait. No one wants to be around you. Right. Forgot."

I shut my eyes. My hand shook so bad the phone rattled against my ear.

"Why are you calling me?" I whispered.

"Can't a sister check on her sister?"

"We're not sisters. Not really."

Quiet on the line. I could hear her breathing. I could picture the smile — that satisfied one, like she already won.

"You're right," she said. "We're not. You're a spare part, Olivia. Trash. That's all you've ever been."

She said it swiftly. Like she hadn't just reached in and ripped something out of me.

"You know what? Nathan calls me every night. He tells me about his day. Says he misses me. Says he can't wait till the year's up so he can get rid of you."

I clapped a hand over my mouth. My eyes burned. I wasn't going to cry. Not for her.

"He's never going to want you. You're a placeholder. That's it. Stay invisible. It's the only thing you're good at."

Click. Line dead.

I sat there holding the phone. Dial tone buzzing loud in my ear, filling up the whole room. I put it back slowly.

I wrapped my arms around myself. I tried to hold it together. I tried not to come apart.

But I was coming apart. I could feel it. Cracks running through me like ice on a pond.

Jessica was right. I was the spare. Always had been. The daughter my parents didn't want. The sister my sister hated. The wife my husband never chose.

I was nothing.

Don't know how long I sat there. Rocking. Minutes. Hours. Time didn't mean anything here anymore. 

The phone rang again.

I didn't pick up. I just listened to it ring. I knew what was happening on the other end. Jessica. Leaving a voicemail. Crying on cue. Telling Nathan or Patricia I threatened her. That I was cruel. That I broke her heart.

I knew this script by heart. Been living it my whole life.

The ringing stopped. Then a muffled voice came through the receiver. Jessica's voice. Thick with fake tears.

"She was so mean to me, Nathan. I don't know what I did. She told me to stay away from you. Said she'd destroy me if I came near you again."

I chuckled. “Some things don't change,” I whispered.

Then I heard footsteps.

It was fast and heavy. I knew exactly who from the look of things. Nathan’s.

He barged in as expected.

"Olivia!”

His voice cut like a blade. I looked up. He filled the doorway. Jaw tight. Green eyes on fire. Phone in his fist, knuckles pale.

"What did you say to Jessica?" His voice came out commanding.

 I said slowly. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me!" He stepped in. The room felt smaller with him in it. "I heard the voicemail. She was crying. Said you threatened her."

A laugh got out of me before I could stop it. Bitter. Hollow. "She called me. Mocked me. Told me you go to her every night. That you want her. That you'll never want me."

His eyes narrowed. "That's not true."

"Then why do you always believe her?"

"She was terrified, Olivia. She really was scared. Even if she said all those things, that's not enough to threaten her."

"She's always terrified. It's how she gets what she wants. Been doing it her whole life."

He shook his head. "You stole her wedding. Locked her in a basement. And now you want to play the victim?"

I got up off the bed and I looked straight into his eyes 

"I didn't steal anything," I said. "I was forced into this. Your family forced me. Her family forced me. I never, ever, wanted any of it."

"You could've said no."

"I didn't have a choice!" My voice cracked. I didn't care anymore. "My father said if I didn't marry you he'd throw me out. No money. No friends. Nobody. I was trapped. I didn't want to be on the streets. I've always been trapped."

He started to say something. I cut him off.

"You want the truth?" Tears were running now. I didn't fight them. "I didn't want to marry you. I didn't want any of this. Nobody ever gave me a choice. And the worst part — you don't even care. You never have."

He just looked at me. Something crossed his face. There, then gone. Surprise, maybe. Or guilt. Couldn't tell.

"I didn't come here to fight with you." His voice dropped. Went flat. "I came to tell you — you threaten Jessica again, you'll regret it. Understand?"

I looked at him with his cold eyes and hard face. He'd already decided I was guilty. Nothing I said was going to change that.

"Get out," I whispered.

"What?"

"Get out! Leave me alone!"

He opened his mouth. I thought something ugly was coming. But he shut it, turned, and walked out. He slammed the door.

Mia stepped in immediately with a envelope in her hand.

"This came for you." Quiet voice. "Didn't want to bring it earlier. Not after everything. But…"

I cut her off. “It's okay.”

She set it on the table and left.

I got off the bed quickly and tore it open. It was a letter.

*How does it feel to be nothing, Olivia? Nathan will never want you. He'll never want you. You're just a placeholder. Nobody has ever wanted you and they never will. Keep dreaming while I enjoy him. A reject. Stay invisible. That's the only thing you're good at. Bitch*

I read it three times. Cuts deeper each time.

My hands trembled.

I wanted to burn it. Tear it up. Scream. Throw myself on the floor.

But I didn't do any of that.

I took out the notebook Mia had given me and wrote on a blank page. One sentence. 

“I am still here.”

I tore the page out. I folded it and walked out of my room slowly.

I went down the stairs. My heart was beating fast. Palms sweating. I went to Nathan's study. The door was slightly opened.

I pushed it open just enough to slip my arm through. Set the paper on his desk. Right in the middle, where he'd see it first.

Then I went back to my room. No one saw me. Thank goodness.

I don't know why I did it. I don't know what I thought would happen. Ma

ybe I just wanted someone to know I existed. Maybe I wanted him to know.

I shut my door. Sat back down on the edge of the bed. 

OLIVIA!!!

I looked up immediately. Someone was screaming my name.

Nathan's Pov

I was in my study when I heard someone screaming. I gasped in shock.

I placed my glass on the table and rushed toward the stairs

Then I heard my mother's voice. Sharp and cold. "How dare you. You little scumbug. You think you can talk about me? In my own house?"

I started moving faster. 

"How dare you call me cruel? I'll show you how cruel I can be then!" Her voice was firm.

I reached the top of the stairs. The hallway was empty but Olivia's door was wide open. That door was always closed. I ran.

When I got there, Olivia was backed against the wall. Her hands were up. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide. You looked terrified.

My mother was in front of her. Her hand was raised.

"Mother, stop!" I said quicklMy mother's hand came down on her face. The sound was sharp. That slap echoed off the walls.

Olivia's head snapped to the side. Her hand went to her cheek. She didn't make a sound.

"Get away from her!" I grabbed my mother's arm and pulled her back. "What the hell are you doing mother?"

"She was talking about me." My mother's voice was shaking. Not with fear. With rage. "Jessica called. She told me everything. This…this creature has been badmouthing me. Calling me cruel! Calling me a monster!"

"That's…that's not true," Olivia said. Her voice was calm but trembling. Her hand was still on her cheek. "I never said that."

"You're a liar!" My mother stepped forward. I blocked her. "Jessica told me. She heard you. She heard everything."

"Jessica is lying." Olivia's voice cracked. "Why can't you just believe me?”

"Don't you dare…"

"Mother, stop!" I put myself between them. My back to Olivia. My hands on my mother's shoulders. "You can't just come in here and hit her. This is abuse."

"She's my daughter-in-law. I can do whatever I want."

"She's my wife." The words came out before I could stop them. They felt strange in my mouth. Absolutely wrong. "You can't hit her. Not in my house."

My mother's face twisted. She looked at me like I had betrayed her. "She's a gold-digger. A liar. A manipulator. And you're defending her?"

"I'm not defending anyone. I'm stopping you from doing the wrong thing. You are being mean.."

"She slapped me!" Olivia's voice came from behind me. "I never said anything about her. I don't even talk to anyone. I don't leave this room."

"Liar!" My mother's voice was shrill. "Jessica never lies. She's the sweetest girl. She wouldn't make this up."

"Jessica would make anything up if it meant hurting me." Olivia's voice quivered. "She's been doing it to me my whole life."

"That's enough!" I held up my hands. "Both of you. Stop."

My mother was breathing hard. Her chest was heaving. Her eyes were wild. She had never looked like this in a long time. So out of control. So angry. The last time she did was when she was beating up a girl I had brought home for fun. She stole her diamond necklace. 

"Get out of my way! Nathan."

"No."

"I am warning you. Get out of my way."

"I said no."

We stared at each other. Her eyes. My eyes. We looked like the same person. Same cold eyes. Same stubborn chin. Same refusal to back down.

"Fine," she said finally. She stepped back. Her hands dropped to her sides. "But this isn't over! I know what she is! I knew it the moment I saw her! And I will prove it!"

She turned and walked out. Her heels clicked on the floor. The sound faded down the hallway. Then the stairs. Then the front door.

I stood in the middle of the room. My heart was pounding. 

Behind me, I heard a soft sound. A breath. A sob. Quiet. Like she was trying to hide it.

I turned around.

Olivia was still against the wall. Her hand was still on her cheek. Her eyes were wet. Tears were falling. Silent tears.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

 "No. I'm not okay."

I stepped closer. She flinched. Just a little. Just enough for me to see it.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said.

"I know." She wiped her face with the back of her hand. "It's just... I'm not used to people being nice to me."

"I'm not being nice."

She looked at me. Her blue eyes were red now. Puffy. "You're being less cruel. There's a difference."

I didn't know what to say to that.

She moved away from the wall slowly. Like she was testing her legs. She sat on the edge of the bed. The springs creaked. She looked at her hands. Her fingers were trembling.

"Did you really say something about my mother?" I asked.

She looked up. Her eyes met mine. "No. I didn't. I don't talk to anyone. I don't leave this room. I don't even know anyone in this house."

"Mia," I said. "You talk to Mia."

"Mia doesn't count. Mia is kind to me. She brings me food. She doesn't judge me. That's it. We have never had any conversation about anyone. Not even about me."

"She lied to me," I said. "About the bruise. She said you fell."

Olivia's face went pale. "The bruise?"

"On your arm. Three days ago. I asked her what happened. She said you fell."

She looked away. Her hands twisted in her lap. "I did fall."

"Don't lie to me."

She looked up. Her eyes were hard now. "What do you want me to say? That your mother gave it to me? That she grabbed my arm so hard she left marks? That I've been hit so many times in my life I don't even feel bad anymore?"

I stopped breathing.

"My mother," I said. "My mother did that?"

I walked to the window. The brick wall. I stared at it. The red brick. The mortar. The cracks.

"I didn't know," I said.

"Of course you didn't. You don't see anything. You don't want to see anything."

I turned around. She was still sitting on the bed. Still twisting her hands.

"I'm sorry," I said. The words felt foreign. I didn't say them often. "I should have... I should have done something."

"What could you have done?" She laughed again. That hollow laugh. "You don't even believe me. You think I locked my sister in a basement. You think I tricked you into marrying me. You think I'm a gold-digger who only wants your money."

"I don't know what to think."

"Exactly." She stood up and walked toward me. She stopped a foot away. "You don't know anything. You don't know me. You don't know my family. You don't know what I've been through. And you don't care to know. You just want me to disappear."

"That's not true."

"Then what is true?" She looked up at me. Her eyes were searching. "Why did you stop your mother? Why did you come in here in the first place? Why did you even care?"

I didn't have an answer.

"I don't know," I said.

She stared at me for a long time. Then she shook her head. "That's the problem. You don't know anything. And you're too scared to find out."

She walked past me. Out of the room. Into the hallway. Around the corner.

I watched her go.

I swallowed hard and walked back to my study. The whiskey was still there. The ice had melted. I poured another glass and drank.

I thought about her face. Her voice. Her eyes. The way she said "you don't know anything." The way she said "you're too scared to find out."

She was right. I was scared. Maybe of the truth or what my mother would think.

I was scared of what I might find if I looked too close. Scared that Jessica was lying. Scared that Olivia was telling the truth. Scared that I had made a terrible mistake.

I drank even more.

Three days ago, I had seen the bruise. I had asked Mia. Mia had lied. I had let it go.

Why did I let it go? Because it was easier.

I hated myself for that.

I poured another glass. The decanter was getting low. I didn't care. All my life, I have always had to let my mother get her way in every area of my life. I have become used to being weak. I don't even know how to change that.

My phone buzzed on the desk. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And again.

I picked it up. Unknown number.

"Nathan Hayes," I said.

"Mr. Hayes, this is Marcus Chen from Chen Industries." His voice was quick. Professional. "I'm calling about the banquet in three weeks time. We need to confirm your attendance."

I rubbed my temples. "I'll be there." I nodded.

"Excellent. And your plus one? You have the option to bring someone."

I paused. Plus one?I was supposed to bring someone. A date. A partner. A wife.

I thought about Olivia.

But I also thought about Jessica. Her perfect tears. Her perfect voice. The way she always called at just the right moment.

"For sure. I will bring my plus one," I said.

"Very well. I'll send the details to your assistant." A pause. "There's been some talk about the new partnership with Morgan Tech. People are curious about how the merger is going."

"It's going fine."

"Is it?" His voice was careful. "There's been some speculation. Rumors. Nothing serious. Just... people talking."

"What kind of rumors?"

"You know how it is. The wedding was quiet. No announcement. No press. People are wondering."

I closed my eyes. "Uhm.The wedding was private."

"Of course. Of course." He paused. "The banquet is a good opportunity. Show a united front. Shut down the talk."

"Yea. Right."

"I'll put you down for two guests, then."

“Alright. That will be fine.”

The pause was longer this time. "Understood."

The call ended. I stared at the phone. “My plus one,” I thought. “I could bring anyone I wanted. But I couldn't bring the woman I was married to at the moment. Because I was ashamed of her. Ashamed of what people would think. Ashamed of what they would say. Hmmm. Most importantly what my mother would do.”

I was a coward. I already knew that.

I set the phone down and poured another glass of whiskey.

Then, the phone buzzed again. It was a message from Jessica.

"Are you okay? I heard my mother went to see Olivia. I'm so worried about you. Call me when you can. "

I stared at the message. The heart emoji. The sweet words. The concern. I didn't know if I should say it's pathetic. I took a deep breath and held the ridge of my nose. I closed my eyes to think. I didn't know what to think anymore. A part of me wants to bring Olivia. But the possibilities are slim. I will have to find out.