SO IT'S YOU

I couldn't sleep.

I lay in the guest bedroom for hours, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the house. At some point around 2am, I gave up pretending and went downstairs to the living room. I curled up on one of the couches with a blanket, my mind racing with everything I had heard at the club.

Silver.

Melissa.

The two names kept colliding in my head, creating a picture I wasn't ready to see. I couldn't help but let the tears that I had been holding back since the hearing those things Damon said about me in the club. 

I cried for the three years I wasted. For the girl who was nineteen and stupidly in love. For every meal I cooked that he ignored. For every gift he threw away. For hearing him call me pathetic in front of his friends. For realizing he could love someone… he just didn’t want it to be me.

I didn’t hear the soft footsteps until a warm hand touched my shoulder.

“Miss Hazel?”

I looked up through my blurry eyes. Miss Mia stood there in her simple uniform, her face full of concern. She had been working in this house for over ten years. She was the only person here who treated me like a real human being instead of just “the contract wife.”

“Miss Mia…” My voice broke.

She sat down beside me without asking and pulled me into her arms. I buried my face in her shoulder and cried even harder. She smelled like fresh laundry and the lavender soap she always used. It was the closest thing I had to comfort in this house.

“Shh, child. Breathe,” she whispered, rubbing my back gently. “What happened this time? Did he hurt you again?”

It took me a minute before I could speak properly. When I finally pulled back, I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

“I went to the club tonight,” I said. “The Velvet Room. I overheard him talking with his friends. They were talking about this new woman, 'Silver.’ He said… he said he’s wanted her for a long time. That she’s everything I’m not. He bought her a diamond necklace. He was smiling, Miss Mia. Really smiling. He never smiles at me like that.”

Miss Mia’s eyes softened with sadness but she stayed quiet, letting me get it all out.

“He told them I’m pathetic. That I’ve been clinging to him for three years even though he treats me like trash. He said he’s bringing her here soon. Into this house. Into our… into his bed.” My voice cracked again. “I’ve tried so hard. I really have. I stayed even when he brought other women home. I took care of him when he was drunk or angry. I defended him to my family. And for what? So he can fall in love with someone else right in front of me?”

Miss Mia took my hands in hers. Her palms were warm and rough from years of hard work.

“Miss Hazel… you are a good girl, too good for this house. I’ve watched you for the past three years. You light up every room you walk into, even when your heart is breaking. You make sure everyone is happy. You remember the little things. But that man…” She shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve even one tear from you.”

“I thought if I loved him enough, he would change,” I whispered. “I thought marrying him would make him see me. I thought he didn't know how to love Miss Mia. But he can, he’s choosing to be romantic and sweet for her. Just not for me.”

Miss Mia squeezed my hands tighter. “That’s not love, sweetheart. That’s convenient. He knows you will stay no matter what. But this new woman? She probably doesn’t take his nonsense. And instead of growing up, he’s running after her. You cannot force a man to value you no matter how much you give. No matter how long you wait.”

Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks and my voice broke through sobs. “I feel…so stupid. My own stepsister Melissa… She knows how much I’ve loved him since we were young. If it turns out to be her, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Miss Mia wiped my tears with her thumb. “Then you walk away, Hazel dear. With your head high. You are still young, beautiful and very smart. There is a whole life waiting for you outside these walls. A life where someone will love you the way you deserve to be loved. Not as a contract. Not as a backup. But as the woman you are.”

Her words wrapped around my broken heart like a warm blanket. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone got me. Someone really knew what I was going through.

“Thank you, Miss Mia,” I said quietly. “You’re the only one in this house who actually cares about me.”

She smiled sadly. “I’ve always cared. And I will tell you this–you deserve better. Way better than Damon Moretti. Don’t let him break you completely, sign those papers if your heart is telling you it’s time.”

I nodded slowly and I knew something inside me was shifting. The pain was still there, heavy and sharp, but underneath it was a tiny spark of anger. And maybe… strength.

Miss Mia stood up and gently touched my hair. “Go wash your face and try to rest. I’ll make you some tea.”

She was about to staand up from th couch when we heard the front door open.

Damon's footsteps in the hallway.

And then another set of footsteps. A woman's footsteps.

I stood up slowly, my body moving on instinct even though my mind wasn't ready for what was about to happen.

They appeared in the living room doorway.

Damon looked surprised to see me, like he had expected me to be asleep. Like he had expected to be able to sneak her in without me knowing.

And beside him was Melissa.

She was carrying a suitcase. Two suitcases actually. Her clothes. Her things. All the things a person needed if they were planning to move into a house. To move into MY house.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was her.

It had been her all along.

The shock of it was so complete, so total, that for a moment I couldn't process what my eyes were seeing. My brain kept trying to reject the information. Melissa wouldn't do this. Melissa was my sister. Melissa had held me while I cried about this man.

But she was standing in the doorway with her hand on his arm, looking at me with an expression that was somewhere between defiance and guilt.

"So it's you," I whispered. The words came out before I could stop them. "It's been you all this while. I thought you were supposed to be my sister."

Melissa's expression hardened.

"Oh come on, Hazel," she said, and her voice had an edge to it that I had never heard before. "You know that Damon never liked you. You know that you were never going to be enough for him. It's not my fault that he chose me. It's not my fault that I'm the one he actually wants."

The words were cruel and they were true and I couldn't decide which was worse.

"How long?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "How long have you been doing this? How long have you been sleeping with my husband?"

"Long enough," she said. "Long enough to know that he was never going to change for you. Long enough to know that this was inevitable."

Damon pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist in a gesture that was so possessive, so deliberately cruel, that it took my breath away.

"Stop," he said to both of us. "Hazel, go to bed. Melissa and I have things to do."

He said it like I was a child. Like I was nothing. Like my presence in this moment didn't matter at all.

"You're bringing her here?" I asked. "You're bringing her into this house? Into our bedroom?"

"Our bedroom?" Damon laughed. "Hazel, you haven't slept in that bedroom in years. You sleep in the guest room like a maid. At least Melissa knows how to be a wife."

The words landed like physical blows, but what hurt more was the way Melissa smiled when he said it. The way she looked at me with something that wasn't quite pity but was close enough to it.

"Is it my fault I sleep in the guest room?" My voice broke. "You asked me to move my things there since our first year of marriage. It's not..."

"Enough," Damon said, and his tone was final. "Leave us alone."

He took Melissa's hand and they walked past me toward the stairs, toward the bedroom that was supposed to be ours. I could hear them laughing as they climbed the steps.

I stood frozen in the living room, unable to move, unable to process what had just happened.

Miss Mia was still sitting on the couch, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on a point on the wall that wasn't really a point at all. She had witnessed the entire thing. She had heard every word.

We looked at each other, and in that moment, neither of us knew what to say. This was my family drama. This wasn't her business. She was just a housemaid trying to make a living in a house that was falling apart.

But I could see it in her eyes. The sadness. The anger on my behalf. The helplessness of someone who wanted to help but couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Miss Hazel," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not your fault," I said, forcing a smile. "It's not anyone's fault but mine. I should have seen this coming. I should have known."

But I hadn't known.

Or maybe I had known and I just hadn't wanted to believe it.