Chapter 3

Kyrell paced the hospital’s waiting room while Eden fought for her life in the ER. He still couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed in Jace’s house. For a moment he wondered what had happened to his friend to make him so evil, but then it occurred to him that it was in Jace’s nature to have no empathy.

“Kyrell?” The nurse’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“The doctor would like to see you in his office."

“After you.” Kyrell said as he followed behind the nurse.

As he walked to the doctor’s office, he prayed fervently that nothing life-threatening was going on with Eden or the child.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Kyrell. Are you the patient’s husband?” the doctor asked when Kyrell was settled.

“Her husband’s friend, actually. Is Eden okay?” Kyrell said, even though he would have preferred to be her husband.

“Of course, and the baby as well. But we noticed a lot of exhaustion and malnourishment. Where’s her husband, if I may ask?”

“He’s away—he’s, uhm, on a work trip.” Kyrell lied even though Jace didn’t deserve it.

“That’s okay, just do inform him that she needs absolute rest and a healthy diet. The nurse will get her prescription and a diet plan; for the sake of the child, please stick to it.”

“I’ll ensure she’s well taken care of before her husband returns. One more thing, will she be here long, or are you sending her home soon?”

“We’ll observe her tonight, but she should be fit to leave by morning.” The doctor assured.

“Thanks, doctor.” Kyrell said and left the doctor’s office. The moment he was out, he put a call across to Jace’s mother and relayed all that he had witnessed to her. Gretchen, Jace’s mother, was furious when she heard all that Jace had been up to, and she simply couldn’t believe what her son was doing to that innocent girl, and she blamed herself for it.

***

It was the eve of Jace’s twenty-seventh birthday, and she had gone to the supermarket to do some last-minute shopping for the birthday dinner she had planned for him. She was already done with her shopping and was headed for her car when she heard some commotion up ahead. It looked like a group of unruly young men harassing a lady.

“Excuse me, what’s the matter?” She called from where she stood. When the boys saw her, they panicked and fled, leaving Eden alone.

“Hello. Are you okay, dear?” Gretchen asked in concern.

“I’m alright now, thank you.” Eden smiled. When Gretchen got closer and got a good look at her face, she saw that Eden looked like her old friend, and from then on, she took a liking to her.

Jace’s mom waited impatiently for morning to come; she needed to talk some sense into Jace and find out what was actually happening. Eden couldn’t keep suffering because of her; she needed to put a stop to it.

***

The next morning, Eden stirred awake to find herself in a hospital bed. A dull ache sat at the base of her skull, and as her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent light above, the memories of the previous day came crashing back, filling her with heaviness. She wished she’d died and gone to be with her parents.

“Eden, sweetheart?” Jace’s mother called softly when she saw that she was awake. She hurried to her bedside, her face lined with worry. “Thank goodness. You’re awake at last. How do you feel? Do you need water? Should I get you something warm?” She fussed.

“Good morning, Mum.” Eden whispered, pushing herself up slowly with the older woman’s help.

“Morning, dear.” Mrs. Bellamy replied, gently arranging the pillows behind her back. “Tell me honestly, are you still in pain?”

“I’ll be alright. Thank you for looking after me.” Eden gave her a faint, weary smile.

The older woman studied her face and felt her chest tighten. Eden’s cheeks were sunken, her frame too delicate, and the spark she had first admired in the young woman seemed dimmed.

“I brought you a proper meal,” Mrs. Bellamy said, resting a hand over Eden’s. “Something warm. You should eat a little now; it’ll help.”

“Thank you, Mum,” Eden replied, her voice trembling with gratitude.

Mrs. Bellamy carefully unpacked a tray of rice porridge with spiced vegetables and a cup of herbal tea. Eden ate hungrily, each spoonful vanishing too quickly, as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Watching her, the older woman’s heart clenched with both pity and outrage. Her son would answer her today. She would not remain silent any longer.

By late morning, the doctor signed Eden’s discharge papers. Mr. Bellamy arrived with the car, helped them out of the hospital, and drove them back to Jace’s house.

The ride was silent, though the silence said more than words ever could. Eden pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the window, dread twisting in her stomach. Returning to that house felt like walking back into a cage. Her mind drifted to the day she first met Jace’s mother.

She was being harassed by a group of young men, and Gretchen had come to her rescue. After that, she took Eden by the hand to a small café nearby, where she insisted Eden eat a full meal before asking about her life.

By the end of the conversation, Mrs. Bellamy had offered her a job in her household, and Eden had accepted without hesitation, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude.

If she had known then how that decision would reshape her fate, she might have walked away.

***

When the car stopped, Jace’s parents led the way up to the front door.

Eden wished the sight of the house would spark some sense of safety, but her heart pounded as they stepped inside. There he was, sitting like a king in his living room, legs sprawled lazily, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette smoldering in the other. He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge them, and just watched the smoke curl toward the ceiling.

“Jace.” Mr. Bellamy called, his voice firm.

With a single raised brow, Jace conveyed both irritation and indifference.

“What is it, Dad?” His voice dripped with contempt. “Hello, Mum.” He said it like it was an afterthought.

His parents flinched at the coldness in his tone. But for Eden, there was no surprise. This was her life every day.

“What has gotten into you, Jace?” Mrs. Bellamy burst out, her voice cracking with anger. “You’re not the son I raised!”

“I don’t have the patience for one of your lectures this morning,” he shot back, lounging deeper into his seat.

“Don’t you dare speak to your mother that way!” Mr. Bellamy barked, his face flushed.

A smirk twisted Jace’s lips. It was cruel and foreign, so unlike the boy his mother remembered. She stormed across the room, lifted her hand, and struck him across the face with a sharp slap that echoed through the room.

Everyone froze. Jace most of all. In all his life, his mother had never once raised a hand to him.

“What happened to you?” she demanded, tears welling in her eyes. “Where did the son I raised go? You’ve turned into something I don’t recognize; you’re cold and heartless. Look at your wife! Look at Eden! The doctor says she’s malnourished, and yet she lives under your roof.” Her voice broke as she gestured toward the girl trembling near the door. “When did you become this… this monster?”

“Gretchen, enough.” Mr. Bellamy said firmly but not harshly, pulling her into his arms before she broke completely.

“Oh, Kennedy,” she sobbed into his chest. “What happened to my boy?”

But Mr. Bellamy had no answer, only the heavy weight of silence.

Without a word, Jace stubbed out his cigarette, drained the last of his whiskey, and strode out of the room.

His mother collapsed into fresh tears. Eden sat stiffly on the edge of a couch, pale and trembling. She couldn’t help but think of their wedding night, of all the shadows that clung to her since then.

When his parents finally left, promising to return the next day, the house grew too quiet. Eden stayed downstairs, too afraid to climb the stairs and face him. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but she dared not look for food.

Tessa was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Jace had extended her day off or even fired her.

“What kind of shit have I gotten myself into?” she whispered to herself, pressing her temples with her fingers.

The sound of footsteps descending the staircase made her snap upright. She scrubbed her face quickly, trying to erase the traces of tears.

Then he appeared, dressed in dark denim and a fitted black shirt; his presence filled the room. Even with his sunglasses shielding his eyes, he was impossibly striking, and it angered her that her body still responded to him with a hitch of breath. How could someone so cruel look so breathtaking?

He caught her staring, and she immediately dropped her gaze, silently praying she wouldn’t get into more trouble.

He didn’t blink. His expression was unreadable, cold even. Slowly, he approached her; each step he took made her heart hammer faster.

When he stopped in front of her, his voice was low and merciless.

“I don’t care if you’re dying. By the time I return, dinner had better be on the table. You know what happens if it isn’t.”

He brushed past her roughly, yanked open the door, and left without another word.