Chapter four

Chapter Four- 

Kingston

The house was dark when I got in, except for one light still on down the hallway. Hannah's room.

Old habit pulled me toward it before I could think. She used to wait up for me like this, no matter how late I got home. Some part of me still expected her to be sitting there, pretending she hadn't been listening for the car.

I opened the door quietly.

She was asleep, curled on her side, one arm under the pillow. For a second she looked like she used to — soft, unguarded, nothing like the woman who'd been slamming doors at me for days.

I crossed the room and touched her cheek.

She woke up fast and pushed my hand off. "Get out of my room."

"It's my room too." It came out sharper than I meant it to.

"You're the one who left." She sat up, pulling the blanket around herself.

"What's gotten into you? If this is about the shop, I'll pay the rent once I have the money. I told you—"

"Don't bother about the shop." Her voice was flat. "Don't bother about anything. Just leave."

"You've changed." Some old irritation rose up before I could stop it. "You didn't used to be this unreasonable."

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Unreasonable?" She stood, arms wrapped around herself. "You disgust me Kingston. You are a coward who can't stand up to his family and you're a lustful pig who can't keep his dick to himself!"

My hand flew before I could stop it, it almost crossed her face but I restrained myself before I made a grave mistake.

She glared at me, her eyes glassy. “Go on, hit me. Hit me Kingston!" I had never seen her break like this before.

Remorse settled in my chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—.”

“Don't touch me!" She snapped, hitting my hand off like my touch was an infection she didn't want to contaminate.

She pointed her finger at me, her eyes red with fury. “Don't you ever lay your filthy hands on me, Kingston. Go be with my sister for all I care." 

If only she knew it wasn't what it looked like.

I never meant for that night to happen. I didn't even remember it, not really — just waking up with a splitting headache and Emma beside me, crying, telling me what I'd done. I didn't have my own version of that night to defend myself with. Just her tears, and the promise I made after, because it was the only thing that felt like it might fix some part of what I didn't understand breaking.

I opened my mouth to explain when my phone rang.

Emma's name lit up the screen.

Hannah's eyes dropped to it, then came back to my face. Something in her closed over completely. "Of course." she scoffed. "Close the door on your way out." 

The lump in my throat grew bigger, I created a monster without even knowing. 

She turned and laid back on her bed, wrapped the sheets around her and closed her eyes, disregarding my presence. 

Defeatedly, I left the room and closed the door as she wanted.

"Kingston?" Emma's voice was soft, worried. "I hope everything's okay. I know you got home late because of me."

"She won't think anything," I said. "Everything's fine.

My chest tightened as I hung up and stood there staring at the closed door.

My own house felt like a stranger's home. My wife wouldn't let me touch her. My alleged mistress was on the phone apologizing for a lateness that wasn't hers to apologize for. And somewhere under all of it was a marriage I no longer knew how to save.

****************

Morning came grey through the curtains.

Downstairs, the table looked wrong before I could place why — no tea, no plate set the way Hannah always had it ready by the time I came down. Seven years of routine, and its absence sat there louder than any argument.

"Where's my tea?" I asked.

The maid came out of the kitchen, wringing her hands. "Madam didn't make tea this morning, sir."

"What's gotten into her," I muttered, dropping into my chair.

Footsteps came down the stairs.

Hannah walked in looking nothing like the woman from a few nights ago. No red eyes. No shaking hands. Her face was calm, sharp, like she'd settled something overnight.

She walked past me without sparing a glance, her steps carried confidence—one I had never seen in her since our wedding night.

The maid rushed back out of the kitchen with breakfast ready, she began to arrange the plates while Hannah watched her do it with her face straight. 

She was the one who stopped the maid from serving because she saw it as her duty to serve her family and not that of a maid, what changed?

I sat back, confused. 

Mother and Samantha walked in moments later, surprise clearly written on their faces. 

Hannah didn't even look up at them. She kept eating her food, the sound of her cutlery clicking on the plate softly.

Mother's face twisted in annoyance. " What nonsense is this Hannah? Have you lost your manners overnight?”

Hannah dropped her fork slowly, she looked up and met my gaze, finally. “I have something important to say and you all need to hear it.” 

Mother exchanged looks with Samantha, then to me.

Samantha crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. " What drama does she want to unfold now?" 

“What?" I asked, dropping my fork as well.

Hannah straightened, her gaze sharp yet it carried calmness. She didn't blink once as she looked right at me, the look in her eyes was cold. 

"I want a divorce.”