IN THE early hours of the following morning, Evelyn slid off the deserted bed. She felt better but a little sour and weak. Naturally, her slender feet carried her to the kitchen. She'd literally eaten nothing throughout the previous day, besides the occasional sips of lemonades and energetic drinks. The smell of bacon and scrambled eggs filled her nostrils as she got to the kitchen's doorway. They were her favorite and on a normal occasion, her appetite and palate would jump for joy at such aromatic deliciousness, but for some bizarre reasons, she felt disgusted looking at the meal. Evelyn wrinkled her nose and shifted her gaze to Jason and Diane. She noticed the awkward tension between them and the sense that the air temperature had slipped several degrees towards arctic. What is wrong with the both of them? "Good morning," Evelyn said as she emerged into the kitchen. When Jason's eyes met hers, there was some emotion in them she couldn't identify. Her heart
EVELYN WOKE the next morning with a not-so-nice feeling of queasiness. She moaned and swallowed quavering as the sensation grew acute when she tried to sit up. She fell back on the bed, but that didn't help. Neither did Jason's big arm landing over her belly. "Ugh... get off me, Jason." Jason sat up in bed, giving her a look of intense scrutiny. "Huh? What's the matter?" He frowned. Evelyn scowled at him. She felt terrible and he was adding to it. As she readied to unleash the beast of frustration right on him, nausea caught up with her at the same time. She almost didn't make it to the bathroom in time as she threw up. Jason's expression cleared immediately and he leaped out of the bed with entirely too much vigor when she lurched back. "Are you okay? You look pale. What exactly is wrong with you?" Evelyn glared at him and snapped, "If I knew would I..." She breathed in and said more calmly. "I'll use the shower first." She shuffled to the closet— which was l
EVELYN LOOKED up into the branches of the trees that lined the streets and focused on the pitch of the birdsong rather than the incessant voice of uncertainty that laced her mind. The house numbers at Rowan streets were mostly hidden behind elaborated railings but as Evelyn's gaze browsed the houses she spotted a luminous gold and white hand-painted sign attached to a stone gate pillar. ‘Rodriguez House’ That was definitely it! Evelyn inhaled sharply and turned towards the narrow terraced house. It didn't quite look different from the others from the outside. Two stories. Oxblood red brick with tall sash windows and stone window edges. In two strides she pushed open the black wrought metal gate and crunched her way up a brick and gravel path to a covered porch. The front door was painted in the same creamy white as the window frames and a pair of trees in bright painted pots delivered a splash of welcome green against the dark wood. Evelyn could hear the rhythm of
THE DAY sped by as Evelyn tried to catch up with her work, taking her mind off the events of that morning. When it was a few minutes past four she gulped down a can of cold lemonade— which seemed to be the only thing that could stay put in her stomach these days— and fixed her gaze at the black-velvet box on her table for the hundredth time that day. She was dying of curiosity. Although there was no doubt about what was within it, she wanted to open it so badly and bombard into Locker 20 to retrieve her sister's belongings. But she waited patiently until the rest of the trio arrived. Before she knew it, Julia and Doris were already at her front door and Doris, as expected, kept fussing over her. "Are you okay?" Doris cupped Evelyn's face with both hands, searching every angle of it. "Nothing happened, right? He didn't hurt you, right?" Julia chuckled behind them. "I think we should be more worried if she hurt him." Evelyn flashed Julia a smile of agreement, then
THE SHRILL of the alarm at 7:30 am irritated Evelyn as she struggled to switch it off. It had been barely four o'clock that morning when she'd managed to doze off. Her head throbbed from exhaustion but her constant feeling of nausea seemed to be mild today, though she was pretty sure the détente was only temporary. She groaned as she pulled herself out of the bed, shuffling toward the bathroom. In the shower, Evelyn mentally tried to sort out her to-do list as hot water pelted down over her during her solitary shower. Today was going to be another hectic day for her like every other day in her life recently and she was already tired out thinking about it. Though she intended to look on the bright side today and as terrible as it seemed, she was looking forward to getting whatsoever her sister had stocked up at her safe, more than she was to meet her new employees. She smiled as she swiped soapy hands over her lush, creamy breasts. She paused when she registered that the
"CONGRATULATIONS MA'AM, your result came out positive." The doctor, Joanne Bryan— as her nameplate read— beamed at her. "You're pregnant." Evelyn went cold stone. Her hands trembled frantically underneath the table. Her face twitched. Her heartbeat picked up velocity. Everything felt surreal. She could hear the doctor saying something to her but it sounded so far away. Evelyn went milk pale as she felt her mouth dry up like the Sahara. If she wasn't sitting down she would drop like a bag of hammers. "Ma'am, are you okay?" Dr. Joanne's voice was laced with concern. It took Evelyn minutes to grasp what was going on. She looked up at the other woman and revealed a weak smile. "I'm fine." "Great." The mid-aged obstetrician dealt her a killer smile. Her stomach curled with nausea and her palms started to sweat. "How far along am I?" She asked as the woman entered notes on a laptop. Dr. Bryan looked up over the top of her glasses. "Well, you're about eleven weeks,"
EVELYN TURNED to face him in a heartbeat. "Excuse me?" "Why are you involved with my son?" That question sounded borderline insulting and she wanted to spit out how she would never be actually involved with his son even if he was the only man on earth but from the way he had asked, she had a feeling Jason hadn't informed him about their fake relationship. There probably wasn't a strong relationship between the father and son as she had assumed. "'Cause he is my boyfriend and I like him," she found herself saying instead. Case scoffed. "Nonsense. I know women like you. Women who leech on rich, kind men and siphon their money right off of them," he grounded out. "I won't let you do that to my son." Evelyn almost guffawed. Did he just refer to his son as "kind"...? Hold up, that wasn't the point right now, did he just indirectly call her a "gold digger"? A white-hot blaze of wrath engulfed her. Although she was drawn and tense, she lifted her head high. "Are you call
IT WAS past midnight when Jason gave up tossing and turning from side to side and threw back the covers on the perfectly comfortable king-size bed. He hated to admit it but he'd been having difficulties sleeping without Evelyn by his side. Somewhere in the mansion, a huge mechanical clock was striking every quarter hour with a musical chime but, apart from that solacing sound, the mansion was completely still as the proverbial silence after the storm. Evelyn had looked so exhausted after dinner that she must have dropped off to sleep the minute her head hit the pillows. She hadn't once mentioned the outburst between him and his father during one of the most uncomfortable dinners in the history of most uncomfortable dinners. It was almost a relief when Evelyn covered a yawn with her hand and said Goodnight. He peeked out through the bedroom curtains to see lights from the house on the other side of the street but, apart from that, all was still calm and tranquil. True s