Ch. 9 - DISOBEYING THE RULES

JENSYN

It's been two days since I married Linden and I wouldn't say my life had been any better.

Sure, I slept on the sleek sheets and drank wine that probably worth two thousand dollars per bottle. I wore dresses I didn't own and sat across from a man most women would kill to be seen with. But it was all for a show. Married life didn't suit me well.

The mansion had been so eerily quiet I could hear my footsteps most of the time I walked. I didn't ask Linden if he found out who leaked my picture. I saw it in his eyes—he knew who did it. But he said nothing. And I didn’t ask. That was the rule in our arrangement: act the part, keep your mouth shut, don’t get too close.

So I played my role. The perfect wife. I ate breakfast before he even came downstairs. I gave polite smiles in the hallway and I minded my business.

But today… Today, I broke the rules.

My phone has been buzzing non-stop since the pictures went viral. River's name flashed on my screen for two days straight, and I’d silenced it every time. I dried my hands that were wet with sweat and picked the call.

“Finally,” River’s voice came through, sharp. “Do you even check your messages anymore? Jesus, Jensyn. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I just answered him.

“You are not fine. Why did you marry him? Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m handling it, River,” I said, trying to keep my voice cool.

“Oh? Is that what the billionaire told you?” His sarcasm was a bit harder than I expected. I knew this would come but not like this. “Because billionaires are known for their emotional support and understanding of poor women’s trauma, right? Common, babe, you know these things better.”

“River—”

“Why did you marry him, babe?”

I inhaled deeply, steadying the rage building behind my ribs. I was angry because I couldn't face him and explain why I married Linden. He knew. I didn't have to tell him. River knew me better than anyone.

“Look, River, I know what I am doing, okay? Just believe me and watch me.

“Babe…” He was saying then he paused and went on. “Okay, when can I see you?”

I should have said I couldn't see him but because I was so broken I needed someone to talk to, I went ahead and told him I would meet him today.

“I'm going to see mum today.”

He sighed. “Okay, babe. You will tell me everything, huh? I will see you.”

“I have to go.”

“Don’t let him eat you alive, babe.”

I hung up before I could answer.

I was pouring tea in the kitchen when I heard movements behind me, I turned to see Andrea. The girl had become a ghost in the house. She wandered into the kitchen barefoot and went straight for the cabinet.

I turned to her, a soft smile on my face. “Good morning.”

She didn’t respond. Just climbed up on the little stool beside the kettle and started arranging mugs like it was her morning ritual.

“You want tea?” I asked.

She gave a tiny nod. Still no words.

I got up from where I sat and went to lean against the counter. I watched her arrange the mugs like a grown woman. Something about her made my chest ache. Maybe because she reminded me of myself. Small, watchful, always waiting for the rage in the house to erupt.

“I am visiting my mum today at the hospital.” I said casually. “She has been really sick and I want to visit her. Would you like to come with me?”

Andrea’s spoon paused in the cup. “My dad wouldn't like that.”

“Why?” I tilted my head. “It’s just a visit.”

“He doesn't want me outside.”

“Well, you wouldn't be out for long. What do you say?”

Andrea shook her head in dismissal and came down the stool. She took one of the toast I made and began walking out of the kitchen.

“Common, Andrea. Will you walk out on me now? I really need company.”

She stopped and looked at me. Her eyes were too sharp for an eight-year-old kid. What had Linden done to this young girl? What fear had he instilled in her?

“Andrea…”

“I will go with you.” She said and went out in a rush.

***

The hospital smelled like antiseptic as usual, but this time it had a mix of microwaved food and drugs in it. All in all, my mum looked brighter than she had in weeks. Her chemo had continued and she was awake.

She was laid on the bed with a vibrant blanket covering her legs. Her skin, though pale and thinner, had much of its colour back. Her eyes weren't full but they lit up when she saw Andrea standing beside me.

Andrea hesitated before she came in, gripping the hem of her jacket with one hand. She was always careful about being touched. I had noticed that in just the few days I saw her—which was only thrice.

“Oh… who's the pretty miss?” Mum asked gently, her voice raspy. Her hand, fragile and trembling, reached toward Andrea, but stopped midair, as if sensing the girl’s hesitation. Andrea looked at me, her lips pressing into a frown, then back at Mum. Slowly, carefully, she offered a shy smile.

“Hello, ma.”

Mum's face softened. “Welcome, my dear.”

Andrea gave a little nod and stepped slightly behind me again. Mom turned her attention to me. Her smile lingered, almost playful. I missed her too much. “Is she yours?”

I shook my head quickly, hiding a laugh under my breath. “She… she's my husband's daughter.”

Mom’s brows lifted. “Oh.”

She said nothing more. She knew, she didn't need to hear anymore. She knew I had been overwhelmed by the chemo bills and that I would do almost anything to get it paid.

We talked about everything but nothing to why Andrea was here or why I became her step mother when I had been single last week. Mum said a lot of things to Andrea and the latter just nodded or shook her head.

After a while, her voice faded a little. She was tired. I could see it in her posture, the way her eyelids fluttered. It told me she needed rest.

“We should go now, ma.”

Mum smiled and waved at us, she didn't object, she didn't reach out to Andrea again, she just closed her eyes and before we left the room, she said, “come visit me again,” turning her eyes back to Andrea.

Andrea nodded once, serious as ever.

And just like that, Mum slept. I stayed by her side for a while, her fingers still loosely curled around mine. Andrea sat in the chair across from us, legs swinging gently, watching us with quietly.

I waited a while before calling River but he didn't pick. When I checked the time and it was past five, I knew we had to leave. I made my way to the parking lot with Andrea and we both entered the car Linden gave me on our wedding day. It was then I remembered I saw some missed calls on my phone when I had dialed River's number.

Fifteen missed calls from Linden.

My stomach dropped.

“Is that daddy?”

My head snapped up to look at Andrea. I had no idea the phone was ringing. I ignored her and instructed the driver to drive home. When we got home, Linden was standing at the door, visibly angry. Andrea froze beside me, I felt she wished the ground would swallow her up.

“Where the hell have you been, Jensyn?” he asked, voice low but dangerous.

“I—”

“I called you.” He stepped forward. “I called you fifteen fucking times!”

“I went to see my mother,” I said, holding his gaze. “I am sorry I didn't tell you.” I wanted to add, “since you've kept your distance away from me”, but I kept quiet. It was better we didn't get too attached.

Linden turned sharply towards Andrea. “Come here.”

She stepped forward immediately as if she was controlled by a remote. “Daddy—”

“Face the wall.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Andrea!”

Andre's face crumbled but she moved slowly and walked to a corner, pressing her small frame against the wall like she was a criminal. It was too much to take in.

“What are you doing, Linden? She didn't do anything wrong?” I snapped.

“She disobeyed me.”

“She’s a child!”

“She knew the rule.”

“What?”

Linden went over to Andrea and made her go on her knees then he turned to look at me. “She broke the rules. I live by my rules in this house, Jensyn. You break it, I punish you.”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, or what I was hearing. This was cruel.

“You,” he said, his voice now a whisper, “broke two rules."

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Do not make me angry and stay out of Andrea's way. She is not your concern!”

“Linden, she is your daughter!”

“Yes, she is my daughter, not yours.” He charged. “You took her to the hospital. There are people there, cameras, nurses, people with their bloody phones. Do you realise what you've done?”

“Andrea is not a devil to be kept indoors!”

He laughed. It was a bitter sound. “No one must ask me about my daughter, the media shouldn't know she exists. And you, you just took her out today.”

I stepped back, my chest heaving. “She is not your puppet.”

“No,” he said, walking even closer, “you are my wife. And you will be punished too, Jensyn. I will make sure I punish you.”