“I know, sweetie.” I’m going through my personal kind of hell, but I have learned to navigate through the flames.
Lavinia is different. She had what she thought was a perfect marriage, a husband who adored her, a beautiful baby. Now everything is crashing down around her with no warning.
“Lavinia, listen to me,” I say firmly. “Are you listening?”
She groans. I take it as a yes.
“I need you to hang in there, okay? Do what you can for Jenna and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“No, you cannot do that. You need to heal. You lost your beautiful baby.”
“I’m coming.” My tone is final. “I’ll call you later with specifics.”
I hang up the phone with Lavinia still demanding that I should not go to her, and then I dial Alex’s number. The call goes straight to voicemail. It’s no surprise to me.
I toss the phone onto the bed and pick up the now cool mug of tea. I take it with me out to the lake. I need fresh air to clear my head.
I sit on a log bench staring at the clear water and count the fish swimming below the surface. A little while later my anxiety has become more manageable, and I head back to the house.
I open the bedroom door, then immediately take a step back.
Marcy is sitting on my bed. A suitcase is open on the floor next to her feet.
“Good morning, Viola,” she says, smoothing out her skirt with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” When did she even get to the ranch? I didn’t see her car outside. Did she sleep in the house and I didn’t notice? It’s certainly big enough.
“I’m here to help you pack.” She doesn’t look at me as she speaks. She’s busy studying her perfectly manicured hands.
I stare at her, the hate inside me burning holes in my chest, but I think my so-called mother-in-law hates me even more than I hate her.
The woman had never once given me a chance, and she hurt me as much as her son is hurting me right now. Now she’s sitting in front of me, gloating about the breakdown of my marriage, kicking me when I’m down, dragging my self-worth through the mud.
I hate to give her what she wants, but right now, leaving feels less painful than staying.
Chapter 20
“It’s for the best,” Marcy says. “We both know that. Losing all those babies is a sign that you and my son were never meant to be. It’s time for you to go, Viola. I need you to leave so I can get to work repairing my son’s reputation that you cut to shreds.”
“I was the best thing that happened to him, Marcy. When we fell in love, he had very low self-esteem. Being brought up by a mother like you, that’s not a surprise. Any child you raise would be damaged.”
She shoots to her feet. “You are the daughter of a dirty maid and a murderer. You have no right to speak to me that way.”
Her words slice deep, but I won’t let her get away with disrespecting my parents.
“My father was innocent, and you know it.” With each word, I move further into the room until I’m standing right in front of her. “He was a good man and not a murderer.”
Marcy scoffs. “Is that what you think? Then why did he kill himself after the sentencing? Why would he take his own life if he was not guilty?”
I’m about to say more, but I stop myself. “You know what, time spent talking to you is time wasted. I have work to do.”
“By all means, I won’t keep you.” She glances at the suitcase. “Pack up your things and leave this house by nightfall. I’m throwing my son a freedom party.”
She reaches into her handbag and pulls out an envelope. “This is more than enough to keep you away from my son. I never want to see you again.” Instead of handing it to me, she drops the envelope on the floor between us and leaves.
As soon as she’s gone, my knees hit the floor in front of the envelope. I cover my face with both my hands and rock back and forth as I weep. My tears seep through my fingers and plop onto the paper, leaving dark marks.
My ego wants me to throw the money back in Marcy’s face, but I have little to my name right now. Whatever amount is inside, it will be enough to carry me for a while, until Alex and I sort things out… if we ever do.
