Chapter 48
Chapter
Forty-Eight
MAX
The house is strangely still when I step into the foyer under dawn’s pale glow. My pulse is steady as I climb the stairs and head toward the master bedroom. It's time to confront Sara.
I am suspiciously calm, and I really hope I won’t blow up.
It would be a crying shame if I lost it and murdered her the way she tried to murder Amelia.
I’ve been thinking all night for an amicable solution, and everything in me refuses to give her even an inch.
She was prepared to kill Amelia. I want to hurt her the same way she tried to hurt me, but for the sake of Jason, I have to reconsider.
I have to rein in my temper and remember that she is still his mother.
When I arrive in our bedroom, the door’s half-open.
I push it open and find Sara there, her blonde hair yanked back in a messy knot.
The room is a mess. She’s packing, her hands shoving dresses into a suitcase—silk and cotton spilling over the bed.
Clearly, she has not found out that Amelia has been rescued.
Eventually, she notices me, and I see the shock in her eyes. She tries her best to compose herself.
“Max,” she says, her voice cool, like she’s already won the game that we are both now playing. “I’m almost done here.” She folds a blouse, her fingers deliberate, and she finally straightens and faces me. “I’m taking Jason like I told you. We're leaving today. This morning even."
I would have been amused if I weren’t so furious.
”Jason," I say reflectively. "Do you even know where he is?"
She frowns at me. "He's in his room, of course. Where else would he be?"
Her words drip with venom, and it all makes me feel so exhausted. I head over to the bed and sit on the edge of the bed. "You don't even know where your son is. You truly must have been preoccupied with packing all night."
"Well, I'm not done, and I would like it if you gave me space so I could finish my packing in peace and be out of here."
I look at her. "You really think I'm going to let you walk away from here? Scot free? After what you did?” My words hang heavy, and her hands freeze.
“What are you talking about?” she snaps, her voice sharp but unsteady. Her gaze is now fully locked onto mine, searching. “Don’t play games, Max. Whatever you're planning to weasel yourself out of, it’s not going to work. I have the video, remember?"
I hold her stare, my jaw tight. “Didn’t Amelia tell you that we're not related, which essentially means that your video is useless?”
Her eyes narrow with surprise. “You know?”
“Yes, but you obviously didn’t. That’s why you did what you did last night? That’s why you tried to murder her in our very own home?"
All the color drains from her face. "Are you mad? I did no such thing."
"Really, Sara?"
She stares at me for the longest time, and I can almost see the gears in her head spinning, looking for a way out of this mess she has created. Then she suddenly bursts into laughter.
"Is this what you came up with? Since you can't untangle yourself from me without looking like the prick you are, you've decided to blame me for her disappearance? What? You went to her room last night to fuck her, and you didn’t see her there? So, your next best guess was that I murdered her?"
I sigh, my patience now on its last thread because I want nothing to do with her for even a moment longer.
"Sara, I’ve just come from the hospital. You didn’t actually murder her. Amelia survived. Tom saved her, and so rather than lying at the bottom of the lake like you’d hoped, she’s awake, well, and recovering."
She freezes on the spot. All the color drains from her face. "What?" her voice is small now, completely inaudible.
"Yes," I reply.
“You’re lying,” she whispers, but her voice trembles, her eyes flicking to her half-packed suitcase, betraying her. “I didn’t—I don’t know what you’re talking—”
“Stop it,” I cut her off, my voice rising, hard and unyielding. I rise to my feet. “It doesn’t matter about me, but Jason saw you.”
She stares speechlessly at me.
“Our son saw you, his mother, drag Amelia in a wheelbarrow and dump her in the lake like she was a bag of garbage.”
My words are a hammer, each one striking her composure until her hands visibly begin to shake. I continue. “Luckily for you, Tom pulled her out, Sara. She was barely alive, but he saved her, no thanks to you.”
She stumbles back, her shoulder hitting the dresser, a perfume bottle teetering, but not falling.
“Jason’s a kid,” she hisses, her voice desperate, grasping. “He’s confused, he doesn’t know what he saw. How could you even believe such a thing?”
“He knows exactly what he saw,” I say, stepping closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “And so does Tom. Attempted murder, Sara. That’s what you did. You think your little video of us in the pool gives you leverage? It’s nothing compared to this.”
I watch her shrink away from me, and it gives me the utmost satisfaction. Her eyes dart fearfully towards the window, and I smile.
“Don’t worry. I haven’t called the cops just yet.
You’re a monster, but you are also, unfortunately, Jason’s mother, so I’m going to give you a way out.
Here’s your choice: you leave now. No money, no Jason, nothing.
Walk away quietly, or else I will call the police, press charges, and ensure that you spend the rest of your days rotting in jail.
Then you will really know what it is like to lose everything.
Your freedom, your son, your whole damn life. So choose.”
Her eyes widen, panic flashing like a cornered animal’s. “You can’t do this to me. I’m your wife. I’m Jason’s mother.”
“I can do this.”
“You can’t prove shit. I didn’t do anything. I’ll fight you, Max. I swear it! I’ll take you down with me. That video—”
“Means nothing,” I interrupt, my voice cold, final. “You tried to kill her, Sara. You think a judge will care about your grainy footage of me fucking a woman whom you thought was my sister when they hear what you did? When Tom and Jason tell them what they saw?”
I pull my phone from my pocket and hold it up, my thumb hovering over the screen.
“One call, Sara. That’s all it takes. One call and you’re done. Forever. And trust me, given what you have done, I will not hesitate.”
The room goes still, the air poisonous with her defeat.
Her eyes dart from the phone to my face, searching for a way out, but there’s none.
It takes a while, but eventually her shoulders slump.
For a moment, I'm relieved. I think this is the end, that she’s broken.
But suddenly, her face twists, rage flaring, wild and unhinged.
She screams, a raw, guttural sound that rips through the room. Then she grabs a lamp from the nightstand and hurls it at the wall. It shatters, the glass exploding, shards skittering across the carpet like broken bones.
“You bastard!” she shrieks.
Her wail echoes through the house as she sweeps her arm across the dresser, sending perfume bottles crashing, glass splintering, the air reeking with floral and musk.
A jewelry box follows, its contents spilling—necklaces, rings, beads, glinting like tears on the floor.
Her screams become louder and I watch, unmoved.
My heart is steady. She cannot hurt me, Amelia, or Jason. Ever again.
This, the last gasp of a mad woman.
Let her do her worst. If she had not tried to kill Amelia, no matter what I would never have left her high and dry I would have ensured she was taken care of for the rest of her life. But trying to murder the woman I adored?
She crossed the line.
I watch, as she unravels, her perfect facade turned into tatters.
I’m free—free of her lies, the cage of our marriage, her venom.
Part of me can’t believe how easy it has been.
There is no longer any need for me to be in her presence.
I turn calmly away and exit the room. Her screams fade as I descend the stairs.
At the landing, I pause, her voice is still ringing through the house.
A small smile tugs at my lips. The unbearable weight I’ve been carrying for fourteen years has lifted, and in its place is a joy that is so fierce it floods my veins with a lightness that makes me feel as if I can fly.
I head to the guest bathroom to strip off my damp clothes. I still smell like the lake. I stand under the hot spray and let it wash away the pain and confusion. All I can think about now is my future with Amelia and Jason. I even scrub with purpose.
Afterwards, I towel off, pull on clean jeans and a black shirt, and then I am on my way. Back to the hospital. Amelia’s waiting, and I’m finally going to be able to bring her home. And this time I swear it with all of my heart that she will never leave again.