Chapter 129 The Clash Between Knox And Mom

Chapter 129 The Clash Between Knox And Mom
Emma

We quickly pull away from each other. I scramble to my feet, my shirt slipping down over my head, my hands shaking as I try to smooth it out. 

My pulse races in my ears. Knox struggles with his zipper. Without another word, he hurries out, not once glancing back.

I stand there, my chest tight, just breathing. My heart hammers in my chest as I try to catch my breath, the air feeling too thick, too suffocating.

The kitchen is a mess. Shards of glass catch the light above, and silverware is scattered across the floor, evidence of what just happened. 

The faint, lingering scent of everything that just transpired hangs in the air. I grab the broom and dustpan, trying to focus, cleaning up the broken pieces quickly, mechanically. 

My mind races with panic. How much longer can I keep pretending? How many more times can I maintain the illusion that everything between Knox and me is just what it seems on the surface, a normal relationship.

But it's a lie.

What if she returns home one day and finds us together?

It would be worse than that. It would be the end of everything.

I kneel again, gathering the fallen silverware, my fingers grazing a spoon that rolled under the table. 

And suddenly, memories I don't want to remember surface, of Mom, of Mr. Carter. 

I can’t bring myself to say it to Knox. I can’t look him in the eye and tell him the truth, Your wife is with someone else. The words choke me. Maybe it’s better if he finds out for himself. 

Maybe it would hurt less that way, if he saw it with his own eyes instead of hearing it from me. So I swallow it down, deeper.

The sounds of their argument erupt from the living room, angry. 

“Don’t you dare walk out on me, Gina!” Knox’s voice is filled with fury, and it sends a chill through me.

I slowly sink into a chair, my legs suddenly weak. I don’t want to be anywhere near their fight. If I need to get to my room, I’d have to pass right through them, and the thought of their eyes on me feels unbearable.

I stay where I am, trying to calm my breathing as their voices get louder, each word tearing through the quiet of the house like a storm.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Knox,” Mom snaps back, her voice heavy with anger.

“I’m your husband, Gina.”

“Then act like it. You humiliated me yesterday, and now you want to talk about our marriage?”

“If this is about what happened at the hotel, I’m sorry. I lost my temper. But I still have the right to know where you were last night,” Knox says, his voice firm, unwilling to back down.

Mom lets out a bitter laugh, one that sends a shiver down my spine. “Do you really think one quick apology makes everything okay? When was the last time you made me feel loved? When was the last time you did anything to make me feel special? But, oh, you found time and money to buy Emma a dress.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut. The air leaves my lungs, and I freeze. How does she know about the dress? My mind races, flashing back to the paper bag in my closet. I can almost feel the soft fabric against my fingers. 

My pulse quickens, my body tenses, and I stay perfectly still, desperately trying to steady my breath.

“What dress?” Knox asks, sounding genuinely confused.

“I’m not stupid, Knox. I saw it hanging in her room.”

A wave of panic crashes over me. If she saw the dress, what else did she notice? Did she see the rumpled sheets? Could she tell something was off? 

My heart pounds so hard in my chest, I can almost hear it in my ears. I press my hand against my chest, hoping to calm the frantic rhythm.

Knox’s voice softens, the tone almost soothing now. I can’t quite make out the words, but I hear the shift. 

Curiosity pulls me closer, and I quietly move toward the doorway that separates the kitchen from the hall. I press my ear to the door, holding my breath.

“It was just a gift,” Knox says gently. “Nothing more. I bought something for you too, Gina. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it to you at the office. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I place my hand over my chest again, as if trying to hold my heart in place.

“Keep your surprise,” Mom spits back. “I don’t need your pity gifts.”

Her words are sharp, full of venom. My fingers tremble against the doorframe as I hear her heels click across the floor, growing fainter until the sound fades completely. Silence settles over the house.

I sit for a long moment, counting my breaths, trying to regain my composure. 

Then, I slip out of the kitchen, my feet moving quickly down the hallway to my room. 

I close the door softly behind me, leaning against it as I slid down to the floor. 

I tremble all over, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Tears threaten to pour, but I quickly wipe them away, forcing myself to stand again.

I’ve carried this guilt long enough. I’ve swallowed it down, buried it. But I can’t keep doing it. Not anymore, I want Knox. I love him, and the intensity of that feeling terrifies me, but I can’t keep denying it just to protect everyone else. I’m done pretending.

The rest of the afternoon passes slowly. I find myself flipping through a fashion magazine, not really paying attention to the pages but allowing the distraction to calm me for a moment.

Suddenly, the screech of tires in the driveway pulls me back to reality. I rush to the window and lift the blinds, watching as Mom backs one of Knox’s sleek black cars out of the garage. She drives away without hesitation. For a moment, I’m puzzled, why would she take his car instead of her own? But the question fades quickly. Her decisions are no longer something I need to carry.

A sense of relief washes over me as the gates close behind her. 

I exhale slowly, the tension in my body easing just a little. I turn back to my closet, pulling open the door and digging through hangers and piles of clothes until I find a swimsuit.

I change quickly, grabbing a fluffy white towel from the bathroom before slinging it over my shoulder and heading into the hallway.

The house is quiet. I wonder where Knox is, maybe locked away in his study or his bedroom, nursing the anger Mom left behind.

The sun outside is hard, pouring through the windows in warm waves. 

The heat brushes against my skin as I make my way to the pool. I sit at the edge, dipping my legs into the cool water. 

It feels like a gentle relief. I drop the towel onto the stone tiles, slip into the water, and let it wrap around me, pulling me into its embrace.

I swim a few slow strokes, each movement easing the tension in my shoulders. The ripples catch the sunlight. I pause in the deeper end, my eyes closed to the sky, finally able to breathe deeply, completely free for the first time today.

Then, strong arms wrap around my waist from behind.

I freeze.