Chapter 0007: The weight of secrets

My chest felt like it had been crushed, my heart splintered into a thousand jagged pieces. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over, each one carrying a shard of the truth I had long feared. The receptionist’s words replayed relentlessly in my mind “She really missed her son. The last time he visited was on New Year’s Day. He only called from time to time.”

Every confident word Noah had spoken ‘I’ve been coming here for a while now. She’s not doing well, so I come here almost every day’ clanged against the echo of reality, a cruel, mocking melody. My right hand trembled as I pressed it to my face, trying to staunch the tears, trying to reconcile the version of reality he had shown me with the one I had just been told.

Before I knew it, a single tear escaped. Then another. A burning trail ran down my cheek, marking my crumbling heart. Panic surged, threatening to swallow me whole. I couldn’t let anyone see this side of me, the fragile, broken part clawing its way out of my chest since doubt first crept in.

I bolted from the receptionist’s side, clutching the bouquet so tightly my knuckles turned white, and slipped into the wide lobby. Pressing myself against a cold column, I tried to disappear into the shadows, shielding my anguish from the world. My breaths came shallow, uneven, each one echoing like a warning in the cavernous space.

Time stretched. I remained unmoving, a ghost among the bustling hospital visitors, until the soft click of shoes reached me, the familiar rhythm of Noah approaching. The tilt of his head, the subtle tension in his shoulders, made me shrink further into the shadows.

Some distance from home, I stopped at Mia’s place to pick up William, watching as Noah’s car passed by. My stomach knotted with a mix of dread and curiosity.

Once home, Noah had disappeared into the bedroom, the sound of hangers clicking faintly through the house. I was about to leave William’s room when his little, innocent voice pierced my thoughts.

“Mom,” he called, making me freeze mid-step. “Juliet told me that her mom has a boyfriend.”

My skin stiffened at the word boyfriend, and a rush of questions surged.

“Juliet? Who’s that?” I asked, keeping my voice calm but quivering with hidden pain.

He rolled onto the bed to face me. “You saw her last time. Her mom works as Dad’s secretary.”

I paused, closing the door behind me, trying to steady the trembling fit rising in my chest. “And her mom has a boyfriend?” My eyes searched his for more, for some clue I feared existed. “What kind of person is he?”

“I don’t know that much,” he admitted, pausing before adding, “I just heard that she started seeing him after she got a divorce.”

Confusion tightened around my mind. My heart began hunting for signs I hoped didn’t exist. “But Juliet is apparently okay with it. If I were in her shoes… I’d feel angry and betrayed. She’s just pretending to be fine. Don’t you think?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, unable to answer myself. “You should go to bed,” I murmured, pressing the switch as his small figure shuffled away.

I lingered at the entrance of his room for a few seconds, curiosity gnawing at me, until the click of shoes from the bedroom snapped me back. Nala, our cat, brushed against my leg as I made my way to the sitting room.

Noah emerged, now in a sharp, new fabric suit, adjusting a tie with effortless precision.

“Is he… heading out?” I asked myself, confusion coiling tight in my chest. Late hour, sharp suit. Where could he possibly be going? Could it be that he went with someone whom I saw the notification on his phone?

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked, masking my worries behind a small smirk.

“Yes,” he said, closing the space between us. “It’s about one of the billionaires in town. I want to invest in or pitch my project. I heard his wife is holding an exhibition, and I thought it’d be nice to say hello—protect the project’s interests.”

My hands instinctively went to my chest as a name surfaced in my mind. Mrs. Walton. She had invited me to her exhibition not long ago.

“By any chance… Mrs. Charlotte Walton?” I asked cautiously.

The smile that had been playing across his face vanished instantly. His eyes darkened, unreadable. “Do you know her?” he asked, confusion lacing his tone.

I nodded. “Yes. I got invited as well.”

“How?” His brows knitted, eyes narrowing briefly before forcing a polite smile. He motioned toward the door as if already leaving.

“She used to be my patient. I just need to wash up and change. I won’t take long.”