Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,11
the murky depths where my heart and my secrets lie like sunken treasures.
The surface breaks over me in a wash of light behind my closed lids. I open them and blink at the figure sitting at my side. Emily’s worried face comes into focus. She lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I was so worried.”
I’m in my bed, in my room. It’s dim. My curtains are closed. The bedside lamp is on. The air smells stale, a sharp scent of disinfectant and something coppery underneath.
A shadow moves behind Emily. We’re not alone. Standing behind her is Mrs Bates, the head housekeeper, a woman with a face like she’s permanently sucking on a lemon. She must be at least fifty, given the amount of crow’s feet around her tiny black eyes that I always seem to catch glaring at me, her hair pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her stringy neck. She wears her usual uniform of solemn dark colours, her skirt skimming the floor.
“What happened?” I ask automatically. My throat is dry as sandpaper. I wince as the rest of my body cries out. There’s a dull ache in my lower belly. My hand flies to the surface where the pain is radiating from. I feel wet between my legs. Soaking.
I don’t need to hear what happened. I know.
I know.
Emily doesn’t answer right away. She helps me sit up, rearranging my pillows behind me, then hands me a glass of water. When I’m finished, she places the empty glass well away from me, as if she knows to keep anything breakable out of my reach. “The doctor’s been here.”
I look down. They laid towels underneath me. Towels.
“I’m so sorry, Leni,” she says, her voice taking on a soft, hesitant tone. “The doctor said that these things happen, sometimes for no reason. There was nothing he could—”
“You lost the baby,” Mrs Bates blurts out. Her words hang disjointed and sharp in the air. I try not to breathe them in, but there’s no denying reality when it’s a fog around you.
“Mrs Bates,” admonishes Emily.
“What?” There is no apology in Mrs Bates’ look. “Better she hears it straight. Not the way you were faffing about.”
Emily turns her back on Mrs Bates with an exasperated sigh. The instant her gaze falls on me, her features soften into a look of pity. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice warbling. Her eyes fill with tears as she grips my limp hand.
“No use in dwelling on these things,” Mrs Bates says.
Emily stiffens. She hates Mrs Bates as much as I do. It doesn’t matter what we think. She’s been working for my husband longer than Emily has been alive. He’ll never fire her. “Leave us, please.”
“I’ve got to—”
“That’s an order, Mrs Bates.” Emily’s voice is as firm as I’ve ever heard it, causing a small thread of pride to go through me. Usually she’s too passive and obliging.
Mrs Bates opens her mouth, probably to argue again. Thankfully she chooses not to. She snaps her mouth shut, grunting as she turns away. “I’ll be back to change the sheets.” The door clicks shut behind her.
“Leni?” Emily’s soft voice breaks through my haze. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay?
No.
I force a smile and try for a nod. I can’t let her see how broken I am.
“Did…did you know you were pregnant?” I can hear the real question underneath her words. Did I keep this a secret from her?
There are so many things she doesn’t have the strength to know. “I didn’t want to jinx it, you know?” I say, my voice scraping against the back of my throat. “The last time…” I trail off. The first two times I fell pregnant, I was so happy I couldn’t help but share the news. “Turns out I jinxed it anyway.”
The corners of Emily’s lips pull down. “Leni, you know that’s not true.” Her platitude sounds hollow and fake. The truth is, I am jinxed.
My prison bars thicken around me as the true weight of what has happened hits me like a fist to the stomach. I fall back onto my pillow, covering my aching eyes with my arm. My jaw stings. I refuse to cry.
I refuse.
“Leni—?”
“I just want to be alone. Please.”
There’s a small pause. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” The edge of the mattress shifts as she stands. Her soft footfalls sound across my room. My door is opened, shut. Then deafening silence.