THE PERFECT FAMILY CRACKS

The mansion had never been this quiet before now, not even at night.

Rory stood in the middle of their grand living room; her arms were tightly folded across her chest, and she could barely contain the storm in her eyes. Victor stood a few feet away; his entire body was tense as if one wrong move could shatter everything.

The air between them was heavy, thick with words left unsaid, with pain neither of them knew how to process.

“You’re saying you don’t remember her, you don't remember sleeping with her” Rory’s voice was eerily calm, but it cut deeper than a scream.

Victor exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t, I swear to you, Rory. I don’t remember ever touching that woman, I don't even know her.”

Rory let out a sharp bitter laugh. “But you were there, weren’t you?” She turned to the coffee table, where the damning pieces of evidence lay, a hotel receipt, a grainy picture of him at the bar, and the DNA results that made her stomach twist. “This is your name, your face, this is your past catching up to you.”

Victor stepped forward, his hands slightly raised as if approaching a wounded animal. “I was at the bar that night, yes. I went out to celebrate with my crew after the art competition. But after that, I went home, Rory.” His voice cracked. “I swear, I went home.”

Rory turned to him, her eyes locking onto his, searching for anything that would tell her this was all a lie. But the problem was that Victor looked just as lost as she felt.

Her chest tightened. She had loved this man with every fibre of her being. She had trusted him in ways she never trusted anyone before. And now… this?

She turned away from him. “I need space, Victor.”

Victor’s eyes widened in panic. “Rory, no, please, you have to trust me; this is all a misunderstanding.” He reached for her, but she stepped back.

“I said I need space.” Her voice wavered, betraying the war within her.

Victor looked completely wrecked, but she couldn’t let herself care. Not right now.

From the staircase, a small voice interrupted the tension.

“Mummy?”

Rory’s breath hitched as she turned to see Ami standing at the top of the stairs, her big brown eyes were filled with worry. Harriet was right behind her, holding the little girl’s shoulders gently.

Victor immediately wiped his face and softened his expression, but Rory could see the heartbreak in his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed,” Harriet whispered to Ami, but the little girl didn’t budge.

“Why are you fighting Daddy?” Ami asked, her lower lip trembling.

Rory forced a smile and opened her arms. Ami ran down and into her embrace. “Mummy and Daddy just had a little disagreement, that’s all; we're fine, sweetie.”

Victor quickly met up with her upstairs and crouched beside them, his voice was soft. “Everything will be okay, my love.”

Ami looked at her father and then at her neither who had joined them upstairs; then she reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a hug. Victor held them both, his face was buried in Ami’s curls while his fingers gripped Rory’s waist as if afraid to let go.

Rory stiffened at the contact, but for Ami’s sake, she didn’t pull away.

Harriet cleared her throat. “It’s late. Let me take her back to bed.”

Ami hesitated, then let go and followed Harriet upstairs, glancing back at her parents.

As soon as she was out of sight, Rory pulled away from Victor completely.

Victor exhaled, his voice a desperate whisper. “Rory, don’t do this.”

She didn’t respond. She just turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, broken.

She sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The past seven years of their love played in her mind like a cruel movie, every kiss, every touch, every promise, she clenched her fists. Was it all a lie?

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. “Rory, please.” Victor’s voice was thick with emotion. “Let me in.”

She didn't answer, she couldn’t let him In, she wouldn’t.

But Victor didn't give up; he kept knocking. “We can fix this, babe. Don’t shut me out.”

Rory shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to cry; then, the words came, the words that shattered her heart all over again.

“I love you. I love you more than anything. But if you stop believing in me, I don’t know how to fight this.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She heard him sigh, then footsteps retreating. It was followed by a deep silence.

She curled into herself, the weight of her world crashing down.

The next morning, Rory walked out of the guest room; she had barely slept. When she stepped into the kitchen, Harriet was already there, making breakfast. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, but it did nothing to ease the ache in Rory’s chest.

Harriet turned, eyeing her carefully. “How bad is it?”

Rory sat at the counter, running a hand over her face. “I don’t know.”

Harriet slid a cup of coffee toward her and sat down. “Then let’s figure it out.”

Rory let out a hollow laugh. “Figure out what? The fact that my husband may have two children with a woman he doesn’t even remember?”

Harriet studied her for a long moment before speaking. “And do you believe it?”

Rory hesitated.

Harriet sighed. “Sweetheart, you’re the smartest person I know. Don’t let your pain cloud your judgment. Either Victor is lying, or someone is playing a dangerous game with your family.”

Rory swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Harriet reached for her hand. “If you don’t stay focused, you’ll lose more than just your marriage.”

A lump formed in Rory’s throat. She knew Harriet was right.

And suddenly, she realized something terrifying, this wasn’t just about Victor’s past.

Someone wanted to destroy them.

And Rory Wynters never let an enemy win.

However, the doubt remains stronger than the truth, can Rory still trust him?