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CHAPTER 114: THE STATEMENT CONT’D

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For more than a year of our relationship, Daniel Carr had known that the man in the accident was my father and had stayed in my life and had looked me in the face and had said nothing.

The sustained deception.

Not only the cheating.

The other thing.

The larger, older, more devastating thing.

I kept my face even.

The statement room had taken forty-seven minutes and I had used the voice that did not waver and I was going to continue using it.

“When did he tell you that he knew who I was?” I said.
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Sophia Goddett
wam man let Bella get some romantic time with Dominic ... nah this book stressing me out gosh ... this story is being told different to the name of the book it need some romance please if not it just weird
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  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 118: THE HEARING CONT’D

    My mother was in the entrance hall when we came through the door.She had been waiting — not the pacing kind, not the anxious kind, the deliberate waiting of a woman who had decided that being present when we came back was the thing she could give.She looked at my face.She read it.“It held?” she said.“It held,” I said.She exhaled.The real exhale, the full release of something she had been holding since October fourteenth two years ago, since the phone call, since the we’ll talk tonight that hadn’t had a tonight.She put her hand over her mouth.One second.Then she took it away.She looked at the ceiling.“Thomas,” she said.To him. To wherever he was. The specific private address of a woman speaking to a person who was not in the room and was always in the room.I watched her.Dominic watched her.She lowered her eyes.She looked at us both.She straightened.“Dinner,” she said. “I’ve been cooking since eleven. Come in.”The specific weapon of her hospitality deployed in the di

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 117: THE HEARING

    BELLA’S POVI didn’t tell him.Wednesday passed with the thought running underneath everything like a second frequency — the ordinary surface of the day and beneath it the four days, now five, the quiet arithmetic of something that was probably nothing and had taken up residence in the back of my mind with the specific tenacity of things you couldn’t unknow once you’d thought them.I went to the pharmacy on Wednesday afternoon.I didn’t tell anyone.I drove my mother’s car to the village with the specific purposeful quality of someone running an errand and I bought a test with the flat efficiency of a person managing a practical problem and I brought it home and I put it in the back of the wardrobe behind the things I had brought from before the house.I didn’t take it yet.Not before the hearing.One thing at a time.Thursday arrived grey.The October grey of a day that had decided against sunlight without being hostile about it, the flat even light of a sky doing its quiet work. The

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 116: TWO WEEKS CONT’D

    “My name is going to be in things,” I said. “His stepdaughter. The girl. Thomas Morgan’s daughter at the estate with the investigation.”“Yes,” he said.“And now this,” I said. “If someone publishes the photo.”“It may not be published,” he said. “It may be nothing.”“But if it is,” I said.He was quiet.“If it is,” he said, “then we handle it.”We.The specific word.I held his hand on the embankment and I thought about handling things and what that meant and whether I was ready for the lot of it.I looked at him.“We,” I said.“Yes,” he said.I looked at the river.“All right,” I said.We walked back along the embankment.We drove home.The estate received us with its usual quality — the gate, the drive, the house, the fountain — and I thought about the embankment and the photograph and the we and I thought about eleven weeks of the house and the concentrated atmosphere and the tested feeling.Not the house.Still not the house.The second week had a different texture.My mother had

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 115: TWO WEEKS

    BELLA’S POVThe two weeks before the hearing moved differently from every other two weeks I had spent in the house.Not slowly. Not the suspended quality of the thirty-six hours or the charged quality of the birthday week. These two weeks had momentum — the sense of something moving toward its conclusion, the legal machinery grinding forward with the specific patience of a process that had been set in motion and was not going to stop.Reeves called every other day.The updates were technical and precise — the challenge to the evidence was being heard, the procedural arguments made, Raines’s legal team doing what Raines’s legal team did. Reeves countered each move with the flat professional certainty of a man who had been building this case for two years and was not going to watch it dismantled by expensive lawyers on a technicality.My statement stood.Harry’s testimony was admitted.The witness from Prentiss Road gave her account in a formal deposition that Reeves described as flawle

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 114: THE STATEMENT CONT’D

    For more than a year of our relationship, Daniel Carr had known that the man in the accident was my father and had stayed in my life and had looked me in the face and had said nothing.The sustained deception.Not only the cheating.The other thing.The larger, older, more devastating thing.I kept my face even.The statement room had taken forty-seven minutes and I had used the voice that did not waver and I was going to continue using it.“When did he tell you that he knew who I was?” I said.Harry looked at his coffee.“About eight months in,” he said. “To your relationship. He came home one night and he’d been drinking and he told me.” Harry paused. “I told him he needed to end it. I told him he couldn’t keep—” He stopped. “He said he couldn’t end it.”“Why?” I said.Harry looked at me.“Because he’d convinced himself it wasn’t what it was,” Harry said. “That it was an accident, that his uncle was driving, that he hadn’t done anything wrong. That staying with you was—” He stopped.

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 113: THE STATEMENT

    BELLA’S POVI dressed carefully on Tuesday morning.Not the silk blouse. Not the performance of a wardrobe choice weighted with meaning. The dark navy shirt I had brought from before this house, the one that fit the way things fit when they knew you, the one that said: this is a person who knows what she’s doing here.I looked in the mirror.Twenty years old.Thomas Morgan’s daughter.I went downstairs.Dominic was at the kitchen counter with coffee and the contained energy of a man who had somewhere to be and was ready for it. He looked at me when I came through and the look had the quality I was still adjusting to — the open version, the one without the managed architecture around it.“Ready?” he said.“Yes,” I said.My mother came through from the corridor in the good coat, the interview coat.I looked at her.“I’m coming,” she said.I stared at her.“To Reeves,” she said. “I’m coming.”“Mum—”“Thomas was my husband,” she said. The flat certain delivery. “I am coming.”I looked at

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 5: THE MOVIE

    BELLA'S POVI should have walked away the moment I heard the sound.That was the smart thing to do. The right thing. The thing any normal person would have done, turned around, gone back to their room, closed the door, pretended they'd heard nothing.But I have never, apparently, been particularly

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 4 : MY MUM HUSBAND IS DRIVING ME CRAZY

    I looked at my phone. It was Jennifer, my friend. But Jennifer wasn't hearing me, in fact, the call kept cutting out. Neither of us could hear each other properly.The call ended.I dropped the phone in frustration and headed to the bathroom to take a bath.The bathroom was absolutely gorgeous. Mar

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 3 : THE FORBIDDEN FEELING

    BELLA’S POV For a second, neither of us moved. He just stood there, holding my underwear, his dark eyes locked on mine.I snatched it from his hand and shoved it behind my back. "I, I'm sorry. My bad.""I'm just going to take this and leave," he said, his voice tight. He grabbed whatever he'd been

  • HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND   CHAPTER 2 : THE MOST TEMPTING MOMENT

    BELLA’S POVHis hands were still on my waist. His breath was warm against my neck.And for one insane, terrifying second, I wondered what it would feel like if he didn't let go.I forced myself to sit up straighter, pulling away from him."Sorry," I mumbled.He didn't respond.The car kept moving.

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