Chapter 4

I woke up this morning to Lisa's voice.

"Oh! You're here. I was wondering where you were" she said with smile on her lips. I sat up and pulled my duvet down to my waist.

"What are you doing here? You never come to visit." I said

"Oh well! I had a good time last night, I don't know about you" she said with a sly smile. What does she mean by that?

"I don't know what you mean by that" I said, narrowing my eye a litlle bit.

"Maverick or should I say my meant-to-be-husband who is now yours, is really good with his tongue. Has he used it on you before?"

No.

He. didn't.

I felt the colour drain from my face. Her smile grew sly.

"And his fingers? Girl! you have to experience it. I mean you have had sex with him right?"

What did I ever do to desrve this sort of treatment from him?

"I wasn't aware you were interested in him" I managed to squeeze out, my voice tight.

"Who wouldn't be? I just wanted a night with him, not to be married and be locked away in more than...I don't know, the number of rooms separating you two."

A tear slipped from my eyes and trailed its way down my cheek.

"Awwwn, poor baby! What were you expecting? That I'll let you get away with stealing my man?" she sneered at me.

"Get out" I said. She scoffed.

"I. said. get. out." I managed with a little sniffle.

"You can't talk to me that way. I'll leave when I want to" she said rolling her eyes and folding her arms.

I calmly cleaned my tears and got off my bed.

"Mother and Father always favoured you over me" I said walking towards her slowly "You knew you could have done whatever you wanted to do with Maverick before him and I got married but no, you decided to shove me into marrying him and you come here, do your usual slutty business and parade yourself in front of me. Now Lisa, if you do not take your shit and leave here this instant, I won't be so pleasant not to put my hands on you" I said looking up to her. She has a good five inches on me but I didn't care.

"Oh please. You make it sound as though you guys are in love. He doesn't love you, get over it. I slept with him and-"

"Leave." I said once more "or I'll throw you out".

"Ugh! Sore loser" she said and left.

I shut the door behind her and cried my eyes out.

In my free time, I went to the garden to cater to the plants there. Surprisingly they weren't dead or surrounded by weed. It was almost as if Maverick had a gardener but dismissed him the day I began to live here. On second thought, the house was also sparkling too. Meh...he could have ordered cleaning services.

Since today also turned out to be as useless as the other days I spent here, I decided to visit my grandma. I don't really know the details but Mother and Father forbade is from going to visit her after the demise of grandpa. I never stopped visiting though. My parents are certainly no the type of people to take advice from. Their lives are shitty as is, what sort of advice could they possibly give that's worth adhering to?

I freshened up and headed out. The security gave me questioning gazes but I just ignored them and walked out of the estate. I took a cab to Grandma's house at the outskirts of town.

Atleast I know I'm accepted there.

The moment I stepped inside, the scent of rosewater and cardamom tea wrapped around me, comforting and familiar. I loved to visit grandma because that was the only real time I felt...at home. I may not be loved at home by my parents and sister, but I know for a fact that I am loved here.

“Camilla, darling.” Her frail hands trembled as she pulled me into a hug. Her smile was soft, though her eyes searched mine with worry.

I tried to hold myself together, but the moment I sank onto her worn sofa, the dam broke. My throat tightened, my eyes burned. Words tumbled out in fragments.

“The house… it’s so empty,” I whispered, staring down at my clasped hands. “Like I don’t exist there. He… he doesn’t even see me. And when he does…” My voice cracked. “It’s only to remind me I’m not enough.”

Grandma didn’t interrupt. She poured tea into delicate cups, her movements slow but steady. The steam curled upward, carrying warmth I hadn’t felt in days.

“He brings them there,” I choked out, blinking hard. “Other women. Like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing. I clean up after them, Grandma. Lipstick on glasses, cum granny-" I cried "I have to clean their cum from the sheets! And I tell myself I won’t cry, that I’ll be stronger next time, but I…" i took in a deep breath and whispered "he brought Lisa, Ma... Lisa who refused to the marriage in the first place. Lisa who ran away and put me in this situation in the first place.” My voice faltered. Tears spilled over despite my will. "She slept with him and walked proudly into my room the next day to tell me how good his hands were and how skilled he is in using tongue."

I was full on dirty crying now, hiccups interrupting my cries.

Grandma stood, walked to my side and hugged me, he wrinkled hand taking hold of my clenched fist. Her touch, light and comforting.

“Take heart, Camilla,” she said softly, her voice a sweet melody. “Your sister has been heavily spoiled by your parents and has no manners and regard for anyone but as for Maverick, he may think he has you bond, but a woman’s spirit is not so easily broken. Endure this season. And when the moment comes… you will know how to rise.”

Her words lodged deep inside me, small embers glowing against the cold weight in my chest.

When I returned to the manor that evening, the silence still pressed in, but it no longer suffocated me completely. Somewhere in the dark corners of my heart, I carried that ember.

Something like hope.

The garden became my sanctuary.The marble and glass of the house, cold and indifferent, made me always want to be perfect, just the way my parents wanted me but me there kneeling in the soil with dirt under my fingernails, it made me feel normal again. I pressed my thumb against a new sprout, the fragile green stem bowing under my touch.

“You’re stronger than you look,” I whispered. Maybe I was talking to the plant. Maybe to myself.

My phone rang in my pocket. Wiping my hands on my apron, I frowned at the unknown number. Hardly anyone ever called me.

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Camilla Santos?” The voice was brisk, clipped with urgency.

“Yes—” My stomach dropped.

“This is Saint Agnes Hospital. Your grandmother was admitted with a severe heart attack. You are listed as her only emergency contact. We advise you to come immediately.”

The air punched out of me. The watering can slipped from my hands, spilling into the soil like scattered tears.

“I’ll come now,” I managed, my voice cracking. I didn’t even wait for a reply.

The ride to the hospital was suffocating. My pulse thudded in my ears as the driver cut through traffic, but every red light felt like an eternity stolen from me. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

“Please,” I whispered into the silence, to God, to the universe, to anyone who would listen. “Please let her hold on.”

When I burst into the hospital lobby, breathless and desperate, the antiseptic sting of the air nearly made me gag. I ran to the front desk, gripping the counter like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

The nurse looked up at me, her eyes soft with something that wasn’t reassurance.

“Mrs. Shelby…” she began gently, too gently for my liking. “I’m so sorry.”

What happened to grandma?!