Chapter 18 Let’s use him.

Chapter 18 Let’s use him.
Selina had never known silence could be this loud. Every breath she took echoed in her ears, every heartbeat a reminder that the walls of her life were closing in. Since Nathan’s near discovery two nights ago, she moved through the house like a shadow, careful, watchful, and painfully aware that one wrong step could shatter everything.
The air around her seemed charged with paranoia. Nathan’s moods had become unpredictable, sometimes soft-spoken, even gentle, then suddenly distant and cold. He watched her in small ways: a glance over his shoulder when she passed, a pause in conversation when her phone buzzed, a quiet tilt of his head as if he were trying to read a secret from her face.
It was suffocating.
But worse than fear was longing.
Every time she caught sight of Alan, his dark hair glinting in the sunlight as he crossed the terrace, or his confident stride as he left the study, her pulse betrayed her. It had become a reflex, a cruel trick of the body. Even when she didn’t want to want him, she did. The memory of his touch lingered like heat beneath her skin.
That afternoon, while Nathan was away in the city, Selina found herself drawn to the library, their quiet meeting place, the one corner of the house untouched by her husband’s scrutiny. The shelves were lined with old books Nathan rarely read, their spines faded from years of neglect. Dust motes drifted in the light streaming through the tall windows, and for a moment, Selina could almost breathe again.
She didn’t hear Alan at first. He appeared behind her reflection in the glass, silent and deliberate.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” she said softly, turning to him.
He smiled, the familiar curve of mischief in his expression. “You’d have heard me if you weren’t so lost in thought.”
“I’m not lost,” she lied. “Just… tired.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Tired of what? Pretending?”
She flinched. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” Alan murmured. “You’re living with a man who sees everything but you. And now you’re terrified of being seen by anyone else.”
His words hit too close to the truth. She turned away, staring out the window toward the garden. Karl was there, trimming hedges near the fountain. For a fleeting second, she thought she saw him glance toward the house.
Alan followed her gaze. “You’ve been avoiding him.”
“It’s safer that way.”
“For who?” Alan asked. “You, or him?”
Selina didn’t answer. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if the gesture could hide what she felt. “If Nathan finds out, ”
“He won’t,” Alan interrupted, his tone calm, controlled. “Not if we’re careful.”
“How can you be sure?”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small black device, a phone, slimmer than the one she used. “This isn’t traceable. I bought it for you. We’ll use it to talk. No messages on your regular phone, no calls he can monitor.”
Selina hesitated. “You thought of this already?”
“I think of everything,” Alan said with a faint smirk. “You should know that by now.”
She took the phone, her fingers brushing his. The contact made her pulse leap. “And if he still suspects?”
“Then we give him something else to look at,” Alan replied smoothly. “A distraction. Maybe Karl.”
Her eyes widened. “No. I won’t use him.”
Alan studied her for a long moment. His gaze softened, but only slightly. “You already have,” he said quietly.
The words stung because they were true.
She turned away, pretending to inspect the books on the shelf. “You make it sound like I planned this. Like I wanted any of it.”
“You didn’t plan it,” Alan said, stepping closer. “But you wanted it. Maybe not me. Maybe not him. But you wanted to feel alive again.”
The air between them shifted, thickening with all the unspoken things she couldn’t admit. He reached for her hand, his thumb tracing the inside of her wrist where her pulse raced.
“Alan, please,” she whispered. “Not here.”
He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re trembling.”
“Because you make me nervous.”
“I make you honest,” he countered.
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed faintly in the hall. Selina jerked her hand back, her heart pounding. Alan moved instantly, turning toward the nearest shelf and plucking a book at random. When the door opened, it was only Rosa, carrying a tray of tea.
“Mrs. Allen,” the maid said politely. “Would you like this in here?”
Selina forced a smile, her voice steady despite the adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Yes, thank you, Rosa. Just leave it there.”
As soon as the maid left, Alan chuckled quietly. “You should win an award for that performance.”
“It’s not funny,” she said, glaring at him. “One mistake and, ”
“And you’d lose everything?” He stepped closer again, his tone softening. “Maybe that’s the problem, Selina. You’re too afraid to lose something that’s already gone.”
His words hung between them, raw and sharp.
Selina sank onto the armchair, her composure cracking for the first time. “You think I don’t know that? I wake up every morning wondering when the pretending will finally break me.”
Alan knelt in front of her, his expression gentler now. “Then stop pretending.”
She looked at him, really looked, and for a heartbeat, everything else disappeared. The fear, the guilt, the rules of right and wrong. There was only the man in front of her and the dangerous comfort of being seen.
“Tell me what you want,” he said quietly.
“I want peace,” she whispered.
“And what else?”
She hesitated, then met his gaze. “I want… freedom.”
Alan’s eyes darkened with something she couldn’t name. “Then we’ll take it.”
The way he said it, like a promise, or a threat, sent a shiver through her.
The rest of the afternoon unfolded in uneasy quiet. Nathan returned late, his face unreadable as he joined her for dinner. He asked about her day, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. She lied easily now; it had become a language she spoke fluently. But when his hand brushed hers on the table, her body flinched involuntarily.
He noticed.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
Selina forced a smile. “Just tired.”
Nathan studied her for a moment, then nodded. “You should rest more.”
Rest. As if sleep were possible with guilt crawling through her veins.
Later that night, as she sat by her vanity brushing her hair, the new phone buzzed softly in the drawer. Her pulse quickened. She opened it and saw a single message.
Alan: Meet me tomorrow. Noon. The cottage.
She hesitated, fingers hovering over the keypad. Every instinct screamed that it was a mistake. But curiosity, no, need, won again.
Selina: It’s not safe.
His reply came instantly.
Alan: It will be. Trust me.
The next day, sunlight poured through thin clouds as Selina made her way to the cottage at the edge of the property. Karl was nowhere in sight. The air smelled of earth and lavender, familiar and heavy with memory.
When she stepped inside, Alan was already there, pacing near the window. He turned when he saw her, relief flickering across his face.
“You came.”
“I shouldn’t have,” she said softly.
“Maybe not,” he agreed, “but you did.”
Selina looked around the small space, Karl’s tools lined neatly on the bench, the faint smell of soil clinging to the air. “If he finds out, ”
“He won’t,” Alan said again, his voice calm but firm. “From now on, we control what he sees. We plan everything.”
She frowned. “Plan?”
Alan pulled a folder from his bag and laid it on the table. Inside were maps of the property, notes written in his precise handwriting. “Nathan’s habits. His schedule. The staff rotations. I’ve been watching. There are gaps, times and places where no one will notice if we’re together.”
Selina stared at him, both alarmed and fascinated. “You’ve been keeping track of my husband?”
“I’m keeping you safe,” Alan said simply. “If we’re going to survive this, we can’t afford mistakes.”
She sank into a chair, trying to steady her thoughts. “This isn’t a game.”
“It never was.”
His voice was low, serious. For the first time, Selina sensed something deeper beneath his usual charm, an edge of protectiveness, or perhaps possession.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why risk so much for me?”
Alan’s gaze held hers, unwavering. “Because you made me care when I wasn’t supposed to.”
The confession left her breathless.
He stepped closer, leaning against the table beside her. “You think I planned any of this? I didn’t. But now that it’s happened, I’m not letting him have you. Not like this.”
She looked down, her voice barely audible. “You talk as if I’m something to win.”
Alan tilted her chin up gently. “No. Something worth keeping.”
For a moment, the world outside the cottage vanished. The only sound was the wind through the trees and the thrum of her heart in her chest.
But reality always returned.
“Alan,” she whispered, “this can’t last. Sooner or later, he’ll find out.”
He studied her face for a long time, then exhaled slowly. “Then maybe it’s time we stop hiding.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
Alan smiled faintly, a dangerous, determined smile. “I mean we take this further. Not just in secret meetings and stolen hours. I want more, Selina. I want you to stop living like a ghost.”
The words struck her like a spark to dry wood. She couldn’t speak; her thoughts tangled between fear and longing.
“Think about it,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the back of her hand. “How much longer can you keep pretending?”
Selina’s throat tightened. “If we do this… there’s no going back.”
“I know,” Alan replied. “Maybe that’s the point.”
He left before she could answer, leaving her alone in the quiet cottage with her heart pounding against her ribs and the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
Outside, the wind whispered through the garden, soft, almost mournful, as if warning her that every choice from here on would come with a price.
And Selina, trembling between desire and dread, knew she was already too deep to turn back.