Chapter 5: You can lie, but!

Zea

My heart pounds in my chest as I frantically search every nook and cranny of our home, desperately hoping to find the document I carelessly left on the table. The weight of its contents and its secrets threaten to consume me. I can't bear the thought of Aron discovering what I've been involved in.

Anxiety gnaws at my insides as I rummage through drawers and shuffle through papers. I can't help but feel the weight of guilt pressing down on me, suffocating my thoughts. How could I have been so careless? How could I let something so important slip through my fingers?

Just as panic threatens to overwhelm me, Aron walks through the door, catching me in the midst of my desperate search. His gaze is filled with concern, but I can see a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. I attempt to compose myself, putting on a calm facade as he questions my frantic behaviour.

"Oh, it's just a working document," I lie, my voice wavering slightly. "I must have misplaced it, but I can always print a new one. Don't worry; it's nothing important."

Aron's gaze lingers on me, his eyes searching for the truth I desperately try to hide. I can sense his hesitation and intuition telling him something isn't right. But he decided to let it go, to pretend that he didn't see the fear etched across my face.

As we resume our evening routine, cooking dinner side by side, I try to push aside the thoughts of betrayal and deception that threaten to consume me. Aron tells me about his day at work, sharing stories of a new colleague, Enni, who has impressed him with her skills. I listen, my mind torn between the guilt of what I've done and the charade I'm maintaining.

Our conversation is abruptly interrupted by our son's voice, filled with concern as he recounts how his friend had fallen and hurt his leg. The moment's urgency pushes aside my inner turmoil momentarily as Aron and I rush to comfort our child and tend to his friend's injury.

At that moment, surrounded by the innocence of our child's concern, I am reminded of the fragile balance I must maintain. The lies, the secrets, and the constant fear of discovery threaten to tear us apart. Yet, I must continue to navigate this treacherous path, keeping my true intentions hidden from the ones I love the most.

As the sound of our son's laughter fills the air, I am abruptly pulled from the sanctuary of our family moment by the insistent ring of my phone. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach as I glance at the caller ID. It's Mark.

I excuse myself from the dinner preparations, hastily making my way outside to the solitude of our garden. The night air feels cool against my skin, mirroring the chill that runs down my spine. I answer the call with trembling hands, my voice tight with apprehension.

"Mark, what's going on?" I ask, my tone betraying a mix of urgency and caution.

Mark's voice comes through the phone, laced with a sense of cold detachment. He informs me that they have successfully obtained the papers they had instructed Enni to acquire. But then he poses a chilling question that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Should we take care of her?" he asks, his words dripping with dangerous intent.

My mind races, torn between the need to protect our secrets and the guilt that tugs at my conscience. I quickly weigh the risks and the consequences. No, killing Enni would draw unwanted attention, jeopardising our carefully constructed plans.

"No," I respond firmly, my voice barely above a whisper. "We still need her. We can't afford any more loose ends."

Mark acknowledges my decision, his voice devoid of emotion. He informs me of our meet-up point tomorrow morning, where I will retrieve the documents. I assure him I will be there after dropping our son off at school.

Closing the call, I take a deep breath, attempting to steady my nerves. With a heavy heart, I go back into the house, my mind consumed by the dangerous game we're playing. Aron looks up at me; concern etched across his face.

"Everything alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

I force a smile, my eyes betraying the turmoil within. "Just work," I reply, my voice strained. "Nothing to worry about."

Aron's brow furrows slightly, but he chooses not to press further. We resume our evening routine, but my mind is already consumed by the weight of my actions and the deceit that hangs over our lives. How long can I continue to juggle the truth and the lies? How much longer until it all comes crashing down?