Chapter 5: A Rumor at the Office

Betty arrived at work on Monday determined to put the weekend behind her.

She had spent too much time thinking about Freddie’s mother, the unknown messages, and the woman from Freddie’s past. She wanted a normal day, one where she could finish her assignments without wondering who was watching her or what trouble might come next.

For the first few hours, she almost managed it.

Then her colleague, Nora, appeared beside her desk with a concerned look.

“Betty, can I ask you something?”

Betty glanced up from her computer. “Of course.”

“Are you and Freddie getting married?”

Betty smiled, though Nora’s tone made her uneasy. “Yes. We’re engaged.”

Nora shifted her weight. “I heard something, and I didn’t want to believe it.”

“What did you hear?”

“That you pressured him into proposing.”

Betty’s smile disappeared. “What?”

Nora lowered her voice. “Someone said Freddie’s family doesn’t approve. They said you’ve been pushing him to get married because he’s wealthy.”

Betty stared at her.

The rumor was so absurd that she almost laughed. She had never asked Freddie for money. She had never even asked him to buy her a gift. The engagement had been his idea, and he had given her the ring because he wanted to spend his life with her.

“Who said that?” Betty asked.

“I don’t know. It came up during lunch on Friday. I thought you should know.”

Betty looked back at her screen, but the words had stopped making sense.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Nora hesitated. “I don’t believe it, by the way.”

Betty managed a small smile. “I appreciate that.”

When Nora left, Betty picked up her phone and called Freddie.

He answered quickly. “Hey, love.”

“Have you heard anything about me from your family?”

There was a pause. “What do you mean?”

“Someone at work said people are claiming I pressured you into proposing because you’re wealthy.”

Freddie’s voice hardened. “Who said that?”

“I don’t know. It’s going around.”

“I’ll speak to my mother.”

“Freddie, please don’t call her before you know anything.”

“Betty, this is exactly what I was worried about. She’s trying to make people think you’re using me.”

“I don’t know that it’s her.”

“Who else would it be?”

Betty didn’t have an answer.

She wanted to believe Moms was not behind it. But the messages, the dinner conversation, and the way Moms watched her all made it difficult.

“Can we just talk tonight?” Betty asked. “I don’t want to fight with anyone over rumors.”

“Of course. I’ll come by after work.”

At the mansion, Moms was having tea with Cynthia when Freddie arrived.

He didn’t sit down.

“Did you tell anyone Betty pressured me into proposing?”

Moms set her cup on the saucer. “Good afternoon to you, too.”

“Mom, I’m serious.”

“So am I. You can’t walk into my home and accuse me of spreading gossip.”

“Then tell me you didn’t.”

Cynthia looked between them. “Freddie, perhaps you should both calm down.”

He ignored her. “People at Betty’s office are saying she’s after my money.”

Moms’s expression remained composed. “People say all kinds of things.”

“Did you say it?”

“I have never spoken to anyone at her office.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Moms’s eyes narrowed. “You seem to have forgotten who you’re speaking to.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m asking you to stop interfering in my relationship.”

She stood. “I am your mother. I have every right to be concerned about the woman you intend to marry.”

“Concern is not the same as spreading lies.”

“I haven’t spread any lies.”

Freddie searched her face, hoping to see something that would settle his doubts. Instead, she looked offended that he had questioned her.

Cynthia rose from her chair. “Moms, if you know anything about this, now is the time to say it.”

Moms turned toward her. “You too?”

“I’m trying to help.”

“No. You’re encouraging him to believe that I’m the enemy.”

Freddie took a breath. “I don’t want you to be my enemy. I want you to respect Betty.”

Moms’s expression softened briefly. “Freddie, I only want what’s best for you.”

“Then stop making things harder for us.”

He turned and left.

Cynthia watched him go, then looked at Moms.

“You’re pushing him away.”

Moms’s jaw tightened. “He’ll come back.”

Cynthia shook her head. “You can’t keep saying that as if it’s guaranteed.”

Freddie arrived at Betty’s apartment carrying dinner.

She opened the door and looked at the bags in his hands.

“You brought food?”

“I thought we could eat before we talk.”

Betty stepped aside. “That sounds good.”

They ate at the small table near her window. Freddie told her about the confrontation with his mother, but he admitted he had no proof that Moms had started the rumor.

“I don’t want to accuse her without knowing,” he said. “But I can’t ignore what’s happening.”

Betty set down her fork. “I don’t want us to spend our engagement fighting your mother.”

“Neither do I.”

“I want to plan our wedding. I want to find a home with you. I want to be excited about our future.”

Freddie reached across the table and took her hand. “We will.”

She studied him. “You keep promising that.”

“I know. And I’m going to prove it.”

Betty wanted to believe him. She squeezed his hand and let the conversation turn to something easier. They talked about apartments, about whether they should have a small wedding or invite everyone, and about the kind of home they hoped to build.

For the first time in days, Betty felt hopeful.

Then her phone rang.

It was Nora.

“Betty,” she said, sounding breathless, “I’m sorry. I think you need to know where the rumor started.”

Betty sat straighter. “What happened?”

“Someone called the office this afternoon. They said they were a family friend of Freddie’s. They told our supervisor you were trying to trap him into marriage.”

Betty’s face went cold.

“Did they give a name?”

“No. But they said Freddie’s mother was worried about him.”

Betty looked at Freddie.

He had heard every word.

“Thank you, Nora,” Betty said, then ended the call.

Freddie stood up. “I’m going to see her.”

Betty caught his hand. “Wait.”

He turned toward her, anger rising in his eyes.

“If it was your mother, we need to know why,” Betty said. “And if it wasn’t, we need to find out who is using her name.”

Freddie looked down at their joined hands. Slowly, he sat again.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t stand the thought of people believing that about you.”

“I know.”

He pulled her close, and she rested her head against his chest. For a moment, they stayed that way, trying to hold on to the peace they had found.

But Betty’s phone vibrated once more.

An email had arrived from an unknown sender.

The subject line read:

You should know what happened to the last woman Freddie loved.

Betty stared at the screen.

Freddie leaned over her shoulder. When he read the subject, all the color left his face.

“Don’t open it,” he said.

Betty looked at him. “Why?”

He swallowed.

“Because I think I know who sent it.”