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Chapter 12: The Fragile Routine
publish date:
2026-04-25 22:16:25
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The 100-Day Goodbye Chapter 12: The Fragile Routine
Day Eight arrived with a soft, persistent drizzle that blurred the edges of the garden. Inside the Garrison house, a new kind of rhythm was forming. Claire had taken over the kitchen, much to Martha’s amusement, insisting on making a "healing broth" she had learned about in London. Arthur, true to his word, had not left for the office. He spent his morning in the library, though the door remained open so he could hear any movement from the sunroom. Evelyn was back at her easel. She had started to block out the colors of the oak trees—deep greens and charcoal grays. Her hand felt a little steadier today, perhaps because of the new medication Julian had started her on, or perhaps because the house didn’t feel like a battlefield anymore. "You're holding the brush too tight," a voice said from the doorway. Evelyn didn't turn around. She knew it was Arthur by the weight of his footsteps. "I'm trying to make sure it doesn't fall. My fingers feel a bit numb today." Arthur walked into the
The 100-Day Goodbye Chapter 11: The Uninvited Guest
The sunroom was filled with the smell of fresh oil paint the next morning. True to his word, Arthur had seen to it that a new set of professional-grade supplies arrived before breakfast. Evelyn sat at her easel, a palette of blues and grays resting in her lap. She wasn’t painting yet; she was just looking at the tubes, her fingers brushing over the labels. The quiet was broken by the sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway. Evelyn stiffened. Arthur had gone to the kitchen to take a business call, but he was back in the room before the doorbell even rang. He looked toward the front of the house, his jaw tightening. "I thought I told the gate to stay closed," he muttered. "Maybe it’s Julian," Evelyn suggested, though she knew it wasn't. Julian didn't drive a car that sounded like a growling beast. Arthur walked to the window and peered out. "It’s not Julian." He headed for the foyer, and Evelyn followed slowly, her curiosity outweighing her fatigue. Through the glass panels
The 100-Day Goodbye Chapter 10: The Color of Memory
The sunroom was the warmest part of the house, a glass-walled sanctuary that overlooked the sprawling backyard. Arthur had spent the morning moving furniture, clearing a wide space in the center of the room. The old wooden easel stood there now, looking a bit scarred and dusty against the pristine white floorboards. Evelyn stood in the doorway, her hand resting on the frame. She watched Arthur as he struggled with a heavy box of oil paints. He looked out of place in this room—too large, too restless—but he was moving with a carefulness she hadn't seen before. "I think most of these might be dried up," Arthur said, popping open a plastic bin. He held up a tube of cobalt blue that was twisted and shriveled. "I can order new ones. Just tell me the brand." Evelyn walked into the room, her footsteps light. She reached out and took the tube from him. She unscrewed the cap, the dried paint cracking under the pressure. "It’s fine, Arthur. You don't need to buy anything yet. I don't even kn
The 100-Day Goodbye Chapter 9: The Ghost of the Past
The following morning—Day Six—was the quietest the Garrison household had been in years. Arthur was already downstairs in the kitchen when Evelyn slowly made her way to the breakfast nook. Instead of his usual sharp business suit, he was wearing a simple dark sweater and jeans. It made him look less like the formidable CEO of Garrison Enterprises and more like a man who hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours. Arthur was staring at a bowl of fruit as if it were a complex financial report. He looked up the moment he heard the soft shuffle of Evelyn’s slippers. "You're up," he said, pulling out a chair for her. "I was just about to bring a tray up to you. Martha said you were still sleeping when she checked at seven." Evelyn sat down, her movements stiff. "I was. The medicine makes me groggy. I feel like I’m moving through water." Arthur pushed a glass of water and a small plate of toast toward her. "Julian said that would happen. He's coming by at noon to do another blood draw. He wants
The 100-Day Goodbye CHAPTER 8: The Price of Presence
The boardroom of Garrison Enterprises was usually the one place where Arthur felt in total control. The glass walls offered a panoramic view of the city, and the silent, expectant faces of his executives were a testament to his power. But today, the hum of the air conditioning felt like a roar, and the graphs on the screen were just a blur of red and blue lines. "Mr. Garrison?" his CFO, Marcus, prompted, tapping a pen against the mahogany table. "Regarding the acquisition of the textile plants... do we have your approval for the adjusted bid?" Arthur looked at Marcus, then at the phone resting by his hand. It hadn't lit up once in the two hours he’d been sitting there. No calls from the house. No emergency alerts from the security team. "Mr. Garrison?" Marcus repeated, a slight frown touching his brow. "Stick to the original bid," Arthur said, his voice sounding distant even to himself. "If they don't take it by Friday, we walk away. Meeting adjourned." A wave of confused whi
The 100-Day Goodbye Chapter 7: The Morning After
The rain had stopped by dawn, leaving the city draped in a heavy, gray mist. Inside the Garrison mansion, the air was unnervingly still. Arthur hadn’t slept. He had spent the entire night sitting in the armchair in the hallway, positioned exactly between his bedroom and the guest room where Evelyn was resting.Dr. Aris had stayed for two hours. He had managed to stabilize Evelyn’s breathing and provided a backup supply of her medication, but he hadn't left without a final, scathing warning to Arthur about the fragility of her state.Arthur stood up, his joints stiff, and walked toward the kitchen. He saw the maid, Martha, starting the coffee. She looked at him with wide, nervous eyes. She had clearly seen the doctor’s arrival last night."Is... is Mrs. Garrison alright, sir?" Martha asked, her voice trembling slightly as she reached for the mugs.Arthur rubbed his face with his palms. "She’s resting, Martha. Just make something light for breakfast. Something easy to swallow. Maybe som
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