⊰ 24 ⊱ Whispers of Doubt

I storm into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me, my heart pounding in my chest and hot tears stinging my eyes. I pace the room, trying to calm the rage and humiliation boiling inside me.

*It’s not true. You know it’s not true.*

…

*Then why does it bother me so much..?*

Deep down, I know the answer. Alessandra struck a nerve, echoing the doubts and insecurities I’ve been battling with for months. The fear that I’m not strong enough, not tough enough to survive this world. The nagging feeling that I don’t belong here, that I’m a liability to Marcel and his family.

*Maybe she’s right.*

In the next moment, the door opens, and Marcel strides in, his expression hard and unreadable. “What the hell was that, Mercy?” he asks, his voice low and controlled, but I can hear the undercurrent of anger.

I scoff, turning to face him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “She started it,” I spit, my voice trembling. “She blamed me for your parents’ deaths, and said I ruined everything. What was I supposed to do, just stand there and take it?”

He sighs, running a hand over her face. “Alessandra is grieving, Mercy. She’s lashing out because she’s in pain. You’re smarter than this. Engaging with her, stooping to her level…that’s not you.”

*He can’t be serious right now…*

I stare at him incredulously, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. “Not me?” I echo, my voice rising. “She started it! She called me a selfish, spiteful bitch. She said I don’t deserve you or this family. And you think I should’ve just let that go?”

He shakes his head, his features hardening. “I don’t care who started it. You should’ve walked away and came to me. I would’ve handled it. What you did out there, in front of everyone, it’s not a good look, Mercy. It’s beneath you.”

I feel like I’ve been slapped, his words cutting me to the core. I look at him, shaking my head in disbelief. “Well, maybe you don’t know your wife as well as you think you do,” I say, my voice quavering with barely contained rage. “After all, you spend more time avoiding me than trying to have a conversation with me.”

My words hang heavy in the air between us, the truth of them undeniable. I see the hurt flash in Marcel’s eyes, but I’m too angry to care. And before he can respond, before he can offer me half-hearted excuses, I’m moving, brushing past him and out of the room.

I feel like I can’t breathe, like the walls are closing in around me. I need to get away, to find somewhere, anywhere, where I can just be alone and distract myself for a while.

My feet carry me across the house, through the long hall until I find myself standing outside of the lab. I pause, my hand on the doorknob, hesitating. With a deep breath, I push inside, the cool air and hum of machinery welcoming.

I close the door behind me, leaning against it with eyes closed, trying to steady my breathing. It’s only when I open them again that I realize I’m not alone.

Ben stands near the long white table center, his backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly about to head out for the night. He looks at me with a mix of surprise and concern etched on his face. “Mercy? What are you doing here?”

*Fuck.*

I swallow hard, trying to force a smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “I’m sorry. I thought no one would be here. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He shakes his head, setting his backpack down on one of the empty chairs. “You’re not disturbing me. I was just doing some final prep for tomorrow. Is everything okay?”

I open my mouth to respond, to give him some bullshit line about being fine, but nothing comes out. I shrug helplessly, feeling the tears threatening to spill over once more.

Ben’s brow furrows, his gaze searching mine. He’s walking better now, I notice absently, hardly a limp in his step as he moves towards me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, leaning against the table.

A hollow laugh escapes my lips. “I thought you were heading home,” I say, my voice tight, my gaze fixed on the floor.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t have anything to go home to. I can stay a while longer.”

There’s something in his words, the genuine concern and kindness in his voice, that makes me crumble. My shoulders slump, the fight draining out of me as I make my way over to one of the stools, sinking down onto it.

For a long moment, I simply sit there, staring at my collapsed hands in my lap. Ben waits patiently, lowering himself to the stool beside me, simply offering his silent support.

Finally, I take a shuddering breath, the words spilling out of me. “She blames me for it,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Alessandra blames me for her parents’ deaths.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Ben’s eyebrows shoot up, surprise and confusion warring on his face. “What? Why would she think that?”

I feel a bitter smile tug at my lips, tears blurring my vision. “Because apparently I’m the reason Marcel didn’t marry Rafael Reyes’ daughter.”

I swipe angrily at my cheeks, hating the hot sting of tears on my skin. “She thinks that if I had never come into the picture, none of this would have happened. That everyone would be safe and her parents would still be alive.”

*Wouldn’t they be? There wouldn’t be a war if Marcel had married Catalina instead of bombing Rafael’s house and killing him.*

I take a shuddering breath, my throat tight and aching. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe marrying Marcel was a mistake. I don’t belong here, clearly. I know it. She knows it. Everybody does.”

Ben is quiet for a moment, and I risk a glance up at him, seeing the sympathy and understanding in his eyes. Then, he speaks, his voice gentle but firm. “Mercy, you can’t blame yourself for the choices of others. Guillermo and Valentina’s deaths…that’s on the ones who pulled the trigger, not you. And Marcel? *He* chose you. If he was really concerned about keeping the peace with Reyes, no one, not even you, could’ve stopped him from marrying Rafael’s daughter.”

I nod, trying to find comfort in his words, but the nagging doubts won’t leave me alone. There’s a part of me, deep down, that can’t help but feel that love isn’t enough. Maybe we’ve been fooling ourselves all along.

*At least Alessandra was right about one thing: I am weak. I’m not delusional. I know that I was never meant to survive this in the long run.*

…

*Maybe I’ve met my end.*

“How did you know?” I ask suddenly, the question slipping out before I can stop it. “With your ex, I mean. How did you know that breaking up was for the best?”

Ben sighs, a faraway look in his eyes as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We stayed together for a long time because of our daughter,” he says, his voice tinged with a mix of sadness and resignation. “I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to make it work for her sake. But deep down, I knew I didn’t want to marry her. We were just too different. We wanted different things out of life.”

*Too different…*

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. With a few taps, he brings up a picture, holding it out for me to see. A little girl grins up at the camera, no older than 5-years-old, her green eyes and dark hair a mirror image of her father’s.

“That’s my little Emily,” he says softly, a proud smile on his lips. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

I can’t help but smile at the pure love and adoration in his voice. “She’s beautiful, Ben.”

He nods, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “In the end, I realized that staying with her mother, pretending to be a happy family…it wasn’t fair to any of us. Emily deserved better than that. We all did.”

His words wash over me like a wave, the truth of them undeniable. I think of the distance that’s grown between Marcel and me, the way we’ve been drifting apart. I’ve been too afraid to confront the reality of what’s happening.

*I’m never going to have a life with him…*

I open my mouth, ready to confess my fears, my doubts. But before I can utter a word, Ben is leaning in, his face mere inches from mine. For a moment, time seems to stand still, the air between us heavy with a tension that’s been building for weeks, maybe months.

I feel his breath on my skin, see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anticipation and guilt swirling in my gut.

*What am I doing? This is wrong. I can’t…*

Suddenly, the lab door swings open, Marcel filling the doorway.

His gaze flickers between Ben and me, a flash of something dark and unreadable crossing his face. “Mercy,” he says, his voice low and controlled. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Ben looks at me, a silent question in his eyes, but I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

*I should go. I need to go.*

Slowly, I stand, my limbs feeling heavy and numb. I shoot him one last look, an unsettling feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach as I begin my movements for the exit. I walk past Marcel, out of the lab and into the hallway.

I’ve barely taken a few steps before Marcel’s hand is on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Mercy,” he says, his voice softer, almost pleading. “What’s going on with you? This isn’t like you, lashing out at Alessandra, running off to the lab…”

I feel something inside me break, the last of my resolve crumbling to dust. I pull my arm from his grasp, taking a step back. For the first time, I feel like I need to put some distance between us.

“Actually, I’ve been spending a lot of time in the lab,” I say, my voice sharp and accusatory. “You’d know that if you’d been paying any attention to me.”

He flinches at my words, guilt flashes in his eyes. He opens his mouth as if to argue, but I cut him off, too tired, too emotionally wrung out to care.

“I’m tired, Marcel,” I say, my voice flat and exhausted. “Of all of this.” I gesture around us, at the opulent halls of the mansion, at the life we’re living full of secrets and lies. “Of you,” I add, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

He flinches as I’ve struck him, a look of devastation crossing his face. But I don’t feel sorry. I can’t.

“I’m just so tired,” I whisper, my voice cracking. With that, I turn on my heel, making my way back to our bedroom, and leaving Marcel standing alone in the hallways.

*I don’t know how much longer I can do this…*