Chapter 9 The other side
Inside the mansion was something else entirely. More polished than the outside.
I don't even know where to start describing it, because when I walked in, my brain just paused, like… for a moment I couldn't utter any words or think about anything.
My mind was definitely not ready for what I was seeing, and it certainly did need a second to catch up.
Dr Lane still had my hand in hers, walking me through as the obvious owner of the house. But there was something about the way she moved through it.
Unlike the D’Ardens, she wasn't just showing off, this was her, like she really loved here, you could tell the difference.
Ethan's family always made everywhere look like a museum, everything was carefully chosen to impress. Placed in strategic locations, cold, and deliberate.
That world was definitely exhausting to exist in.
But nothing around here was or looked like that, the lights looked warm, there was a portrait hung loosely on the wall, but it was something simple, not the kind that made you feel stupid for not understanding it.
The room smelled of burnt cinnamon, the aura around the room was soft and peaceful, because the person that owns the house loved them, not for the compliments.
I liked the scent too, it had so much to remind me of.
"Your room is up here,” Dr. Lane said, leading me up a staircase that was surprisingly wide enough for three people to stand side by side without each standing in the way of the other.
I followed, dragging my gaze away from everything I wanted to stop and look at properly.
We finally got to a door, and I assumed that was my room. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment and with a smile, she opened the door.
The room was large, not intimidating, just really generous.
My mouth fell open as I looked around.
I came from wealth, got married into wealth, but you see this right here… i honestly didn't have words for it.
Dr Lane was stinking rich!
Resting on the side table was a tray of food, already waiting.
My mouth watered.
“Dr Lane…”
“Eat first, we'll talk later.” She smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed, and I sat beside her.
We remained comfortably silent, until she broke it.
“You're not going to eat?”
I looked away, then she stood up, smoothed her dress and said. “I'll leave you to it then, let's talk later.”
She was almost at the door when I said.
“Thank you so much Dr. Lane,”
She paused, her hands resting on the frame, and looked back at me with that look, the same one that said she'd already decided that I was worth it, long before I understood what that even meant.
“Don't thank me Liana,” she said softly. “Just don't waste it.
With that, she walked out of the room, leaving me to figure out what she meant.
I sat there for a moment in silence, in a room that smelled like burnt cinnamon, and nothing like betrayal, or Ethan's cologne.
My gaze drifted towards the tray of food once again, and my mouth watered, I was here now, and at peace… so I could eat without overthinking everything else.
I opened the tray, and my stomach giggled, clearly understanding the assignment.
Although slowly, I ate the food, savoring every taste, and considering my stomach- how long it's been since I had sat down for a meal with my mind this peaceful.
I ate everything on the tray, and when I was done, I didn't bother going to stand by the window like I'd usually do, instead I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and letting myself do the things I'd been holding back since I signed those papers.
My throat tightened, my chest felt heavy in a way only I could understand, and my vision blurred on its own accord.
Then I couldn't hold back anymore, I let the tears fall.
Not just tears, I released the sounds too, not the quiet and dignified kind.
I didn't care if I sounded so ugly, I just allowed it to flow from somewhere deep in my chest, the same place I didn't know it had been sitting comfortably.
Every single thing I'd been clenching since the gala, then the divorce, Clara's face, since my father's shrug, my Mother's silence and Vivian’s smirk- all of it came out at once.
Loud, messy and completely unwitnessed.
I gave myself an hour to mouth the last five years, especially the preceding two weeks.
Deciding how long to grieve, sounded strange, but I knew myself well enough. If I didn't put a limit on it, then it would swallow me whole and I'd take up to a year still lying here crying, and handing them the victory they thought they'd already secured.
So for one hour I cried.
I cried for the five years I gave to a man who didn't think twice before choosing someone else, for the version of myself that kept shrinking and adjusting believing that if only she became a little smaller and more agreeable, he'd finally look at her the way she needed.
Then I cried for my parents, for the part of me that was stupid enough to think they'd be different.
For expecting my mother to look at me like I was her child, and my father to choose me over appearances.
Most importantly, I cried for my baby, who deserves to come into a world that wasn't already this complicated.
Exactly an hour later, I stopped like I actually calculated.
I wiped my face, and pressed both hands flat against my stomach. I didn't exactly feel better, but at least I emptied out.
So I felt lighter, like I'd taken something heavy I'd been carrying on my chest and finally set it down somewhere it could stay.
And I wasn't going to pick it back up, it would remain there forever.
I closed my eyes to sleep, tomorrow I would start figuring out what came next, about the plan and everything else, but tonight, I was just here.
Still standing, even though horizontally, that was enough…