Chapter 8: Triple threat triangle

Something dropped inside me.

For the first few minutes, I laughed. It sounded dry and humorless even to me. My fists tightened. My mind went blank, like ink slowly vanishing from a page.

"She died this morning?" I asked, my lips parted. "Do you even hear yourself?"

I wanted to nod and leave, but the thrumming in my ears wouldn't let me.

My body was my only way home. I couldn't accept that it would just die.

That would mean I was locked in this body forever. Stuck here with no chance of becoming me again. Which body would I return to?

That couldn't happen.

"I went upstairs when I heard the dog barking. There was nothing I could do. I took her to the morgue," Mom explained and it landed on me like the weight of the whole world.

"I'm in a morgue? She died this morning and you already took her to the morgue? Not even a hospital?"

The more I tried to breathe, the more my lungs burned. My ribs felt wrapped in barbed wire. My hands flew to my head on their own, and I tried to inhale again without success.

"Mom. It must have been hard for you..." Diana moved to her side to comfort her. Marshall stayed still the entire time, his eyes moving from one person to the next in cold assessment.

I clutched my chest, the ache seeping into my skin.

Elizabeth had less than one month left. If I couldn't stop her death, it meant I would be dead in a month's time.

I can't believe that at the end of the day, I would find my body, but my only objective would be to stay alive in Elizabeth's body.

If I fail, I would die while inside her.

Heavens, no.

I lowered myself onto a seat and heard a dog whine below me. I felt fur against my ankle. I looked down and saw my rottweiler looking up at me.

"Oh, Duke." My heart shattered.

He wagged his tail, whined, and snuggled closer to my legs, but I couldn't lean down to touch him.

Everyone would know. Duke was only ever this close to Charlotte.

"I should go see her. I need the address," I told my mom, standing up to escape before anyone noticed how Duke was behaving.

"That will not be good for you, Lizzie. You just got married. It would bring bad luck. Charlotte was enough trouble while alive. I have no doubt she will try to ruin your day."

Her words cut so deep that my breath faltered.

I couldn't believe my own mother would think I would ruin my sister's happiness, even in death.

"You forget we are triplets, Mother. I will not celebrate this birthday if I don't see her,” I responded just to keep myself from thinking and breaking.

"Lizzie, I think you should listen—" Diana cut in, her velvet voice deliberately coy.

I shot her a glare and turned my attention to Mr. Washington. "It looks like you know the mortuary. Will you give me the address, or should I search every mortuary in this country for her body?"

"I will lead the way—"

"No need," Marshall said flatly. "Give us the address and we will be on our way."

"You don't know her as well as I do, Mr. BronzeBank. Just concentrate on your business empire. I will give her the support she needs..."

"Support? What kind of support would my wife need from a man like you?"

"I mean, you might be the best lawyer in the country, but she's not a criminal, and she doesn't need saving..."

"Not a criminal indeed, but she truly needs saving from you," Gabriel corrected, and every word was laced with venom.

Watching these two men, who had managed to keep their composure, slip out of control told me they had a past. A very damaged one.

Marshall paused and gave a light scoff, like he found it amusing. Gabriel's face hardened, like he was expecting what Marshall would say next.

"I shouldn't blame your bitterness. Getting benched for a better man isn't always easy to deal with," Marshall said, his hands dipped in his pocket.

"You—"

"That's enough, both of you," I snapped before Gabriel could say anything more. I have to get the address and leave before this turned into a scene that would expose me. "I only need the address. After that, you can both leave me alone."

I stormed out of the house toward the car, but heavy footsteps fell behind me. When I turned, it was Gabriel.

"Hey..."

"You do know I left because of you, right?"

"I do," he responded casually, his eyes scanning me in a way that made me uncomfortable.

"Do I need to tell you to leave again?"

He laughed and lowered his eyes. "I didn't come here to pick a fight with you, Liz."

"We agreed to leave the past behind us…" he spoke calmly.

"You have no right to say that to me—"

"Stop. Okay, stop. Being with Charlotte was a mistake I made. She wanted me. I never meant to cheat on you, and if we are being honest, I didn't. I never touched her."

My ears tuned out his voice. His lips were moving, but I wasn't hearing him.

He called being with me a mistake.

I blinked and my mind reviewed every moment I spent with him. Days he left my messages unread, or said goodnight in the middle of a conversation. And then his refusal to meet me at the Bougainvillea. That was the reason I ended up in bed with a stranger I never imagined was Mr. BronzeBank.

All along, he was with my sister.

But it struck me that he was not part of Elizabeth's memories that I had received. He was not in any fragment of her memory. It was like she had deleted him.

"Was it just my sister and me, or was there someone else?" I asked.

"Like... let me think. Penelope?" I blurted in a moment of spite.

His brows knitted. He tilted his head and took one step closer to me. "How did you know that name?"

I paused and swallowed my words. I couldn't possibly tell him that he said it to Charlotte while she was behind bars in another timeline and that I'm Charlotte. That wouldn't make sense.

"Where I heard it is irrelevant. What matters is that you ruined my life and I will not forgive you for that," I said, about to get into the car, but he grabbed my wrist and forced me to face him.

"Did you know she was carrying his child?"

"That's none of your business." I pulled my wrist free.

His eyes narrowed and the corner of his lips twitched slightly. He exhaled and curled his fingers into a fist.

"I also found out that you planned on taking the child from her once it's born and even prepared a legal contract for that purpose."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Even if Charlotte decides to give the baby up when you tell her the father is your current husband, I should warn you, you are not pregnant. And when you bring that child home, Marshall will know what you have done."

I listened in silence because I lived it all. But in the main timeline, Elizabeth planned on pretending to be pregnant as long as my pregnancy lasts.

No one else knew apart from my family.

Whatever this current timeline is, it's not the events of my life as I remembered them. 

I kept a straight face. I was sure he was about to give Elizabeth a sermon about how bringing the baby into her marriage was a bad idea.

I waited, and then his voice dropped.

"For your own sake, I think it's best you kill her off... once and for all."

My lips parted. I stared at him, stunned.

His eyes were even, his lips twitching, his fists unclenched. He looked serious.

"I should kill my own sister who's in a morgue?" I chuckled in disbelief and shook my head. It was inconceivable that my ex would suggest that, especially when Charlotte was already dead in this timeline.

"I never knew a man could be so intelligent and dumb at once—"

"Charlotte has a pulse..."

"What? Really!" I jumped, then froze when I registered the figure standing by our right. I had no idea how he got there so quickly.

"It's in your best interest to nip that flower before it blooms back to life..."

"Gabriel, stop..."

"You either kill her or she will kill you because of what you have taken from her… believe me, Charlotte hasn't forgiven you for stealing her book and sending her to a mental facility. She won't forgive you for taking the father of her child either." 

“You should end this once and for all,” he went on while I tried to shush him.

Because standing feet away from me, in a crisp black shirt with sleeves rolled up to his forearms revealing a crescent moon tattoo, shirt tucked into tactical pants tailored to his fit, hands dipped in his pockets like a man at breaking point, was Marshall BronzeBank.

His gaze was fixed. His jaw was clenched. Watching and waiting.