Chapter 44
CHAPTER 44
RAVEN
T he damp heat in the conservatory wraps around me like a cocoon, its glass walls glowing softly under the afternoon light. The air smells faintly of damp earth and blooming jasmine. I lean back in the chair, a wool blanket draped over my legs, and hold the phone to my ear as my mother’s familiar voice spills through the speaker.
“He’s doing so much better, Raven,” she says, her voice tinged with relief. “The specialist Earl flew in was a Godsend. Your father’s strength is improving daily. He even asked for his crossword puzzles this morning.”
A smile spreads across my face. “That’s wonderful, Mom,” I say, keeping my tone light even as a pang of guilt tugs at me. I haven’t been there. I’ve been so consumed with my own recovery, with Earl … with everything.
“I knew you’d want to hear the good news,” she continues, her voice softening. “But how are you, darling? Are you taking care of yourself?”
“I am,” I assure her, though I don’t delve into details. It’s easier to keep the conversation focused on them for now. I want to wait until I can visit them in person, to show them I’m doing better rather than just saying it.
We talk a little longer, her words filling the space with warmth. When we finally say goodbye, I feel lighter and happier. I set the phone on the small table beside me and glance toward the garden beyond the glass. There is a thick layer of snow over it now. It looks so pristine and beautiful. If I was better I would be out walking it.
Still, I have good news. Very good recent news that I want to tell my mother about, but not just yet. Until I’m absolutely sure. There’s still too much uncertainty. Things between me and Earl have been improving, but I just need a bit more time to be sure, so I’m going to keep it to myself for a little while longer.
My thoughts shift fully to Earl. He’d left early this morning, his expression tight as he kissed my forehead and told me he’d be back soon. Something had happened at the construction site. A scaffolding collapsed, and there were injuries. My chest tightens just thinking about it. I know Earl is careful, but accidents can happen to anyone. I reach for my phone again, hesitating before composing a quick text.
Are you okay? Please let me know when you’ll be back.
I hit send, my thumb lingering over the screen as if waiting for an immediate response. He hasn’t texted all day, and the silence gnaws at me, but I understand. Some people are hurt, a few even seriously so. I shouldn’t be selfish. He’ll call me when he has the time.
The sound of hurried footsteps breaks my thoughts, and I glance up to see Nora standing at the door. She looks distressed and her hands twist in her apron.
“Mrs Jackson,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “There’s … there’s a … guest here to see you.”
I sit up straighter, the tension in her voice setting me on edge. “Who is it?”
“It’s … it’s Mr. Belafonte. Charles Belafonte,” she says and there is disapproval in her voice. “and he … well, he let himself in. He knows the house too well—he’s lived here all his life so … I couldn't stop... I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jackson.”
My stomach knots. Charles! I’ve ignored his calls, his texts, his attempts to reach me, hoping he’d get the message and leave me alone. The last thing I want is to deal with him now, but I can see the worry in Nora’s eyes.
“Should I call the police?” she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“No. Of course not,” I say quickly, forcing my voice to remain calm despite the alarm coursing through me. “It’s okay. Let him in. I’ll handle it.”
Nora hesitates for a moment, but she nods and disappears down the hallway. I take a deep breath and brace myself. Charles’s persistence has always been unnerving, but the thought of him escalating things right now when Earl and I have just started to find each other again feels worse somehow.
Moments later, I hear his footsteps approaching. The conservatory suddenly feels smaller as I wait. When Charles steps into the room, his presence feels invasive, like a gust of cold air forcing its way inside.
“Raven,” he says, his voice smooth but with an edge that sets my nerves alight. “I heard on the grapevine that you’re not feeling well.”
I steel myself, meeting his gaze head-on. “Charles,” I say, my tone carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”
Charles’s smile doesn’t falter, and something about it feels wrong, sending a ripple of unease through me. He steps closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor. The light filtering through the glass walls catches on his features, illuminating the intensity of his gaze.
“You know,” he begins, his tone unnervingly casual, “I was livid when you wouldn’t answer my calls. Weeks, Raven. It’s been weeks since I’ve been trying to reach you, but you’ve refused to respond to even one message.”
“Charles,” I start, my voice careful and steady, because something about him feels off. “I’ve been … preoccupied. With my father, with everything happening in my life, and as you can see I’ve been unwell for more than two weeks.”
He tilts his head slightly, his expression almost mocking. “I know,” he says, his voice dipping lower. “But I wanted to ask you something. Something has been bothering me. Did you ever love me? Did your mother never teach you that the worst way to leave a man is to leave them at the altar? And even if you do, you’re not supposed to turn around and marry someone else in the same dress?”
My heart stutters at his words, a pang of guilt shooting through me despite the steeliness I try to maintain. His eyes burn into mine, and for a moment, I can’t find the words to respond.
“I … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had to. You always knew I was marrying you because you promised to help my dad. When I found out you lied and you wouldn’t be able to, I had no choice but to consider our contract to be null and void. It was never my intention to humiliate you, but you have to understand?—”
“I do understand,” Charles interrupts, his voice hardening as he takes another step closer. “At first, I was in shock. And yes, I’ll admit it—ashamed. But then I started to think, to really think, and I remembered something important. I know you, Raven. I know you inside and out and I know you’re no gold digger. I love you. I always have and always will.”
The conviction in his tone makes my stomach twist with dread. I force myself to hold his gaze, even as every instinct tells me to run.
“Earl—” he spits the name like a curse—“that jackass might think you’re some kind of whore, but I know the truth. You wanted to take care of your dad. You’d do anything for the people you love, even if it means marrying a good-for-nothing loser like him.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. My hands tremble slightly, but I press them firmly against my thighs to steady myself. “Charles, you’re out of line?—”
“Am I?” he cuts in, his voice rising just enough to echo off the conservatory walls. He takes another step, leaning closer as his eyes flash with something I can only describe as desperation. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Raven. You didn’t see it at the time, but I get it now. I understand now why you left me, and you know what? I love you even more for it.”
A bead of cold sweat prickles at the back of my neck. His words feel like quicksand pulling me under.
Charles exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Anyway,” he says, his tone shifting to something almost jubilant, “I’ve got good news. Really good news.”
I blink at him, too stunned to respond.
He grins suddenly, the expression wide and unsettling. “I’ve come into money. A lot of it. My father, God bless the man’s heart, planned ahead. He knew there might be financial difficulties down the line, so he allocated some extra funds—hedge funds managed by a brilliant investor. Turns out, those funds have yielded millions over the years. Millions, Raven.”
My pulse thrums in my ears as he continues, his words tumbling out faster now, his excitement building.
“Do you know what that means? It means you don’t need to stay with Earl anymore. You can divorce him and come back to me, Raven. I can take care of your father. I can take care of you. We can pick up right where we left off.”
His words hang in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. My mind races, trying to process his words—the audacity of his assumptions, the blatant disregard for what I might want, the sheer arrogance of thinking I’d go back to him just because he has come into money.
My stomach churns, and I force myself to stand, the motion unsteady but resolute. “Charles,” I say, my voice low but firm, “I’ve never lied to you before and I’m not going to start now. I love Earl and I always have. I was willing to try and make a life with you, but fate intervened, and now I can’t imagine a life without anyone but Earl. You need to leave before Earl comes back.”
Charles’s face contorts at my words, his expression a blend of disbelief and fury, as though he can’t comprehend what I’ve just said. His lips twitch, his nostrils flare, and he takes a step forward, his voice tight with restrained anger.
“Why?” he demands, the word sharp and jagged, cutting through the air. “Why are you telling me to leave, Raven? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Money to take care of your father? Now you have it! So why won’t you even give me the time of day?”
My throat dries, and I press my hands into the chair’s armrests to steady myself. He’s lost his mind. He doesn’t want the truth. I need to placate him long enough to call for help. “Charles …” I begin, my voice trembling slightly. “I understand what you’re saying and maybe you’re right, but all of this is so sudden. I just need time to … to figure it out, to come to my senses.”
He laughs—a hollow, chilling sound that sends shivers racing down my spine. “Come to your senses?” he repeats, his tone mocking. “Sure. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Raven, it’s that space gives clarity. So it’s great you want to think things through. I’ll make sure you have plenty of time to do that—privately.”
Alarm bells ring in my head at the nasty edge in his voice. My eyes dart to the doorway, but he steps closer, his presence towering over me now. “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.
“It means,” he says, his eyes narrowing into something dark and unreadable, “I’ll help you. I’ll take you somewhere safe. Somewhere you can think. And then, once you’ve had time, you’ll see the truth in what I’m saying.”
My heart races, panic making my heart flutter like a bird as his gaze burns into me. There’s something unhinged in his eyes, a glint of ugly fury barely contained. He never showed this side of him to me, ever. Other people warned me, but I didn’t heed their warning because I never saw it. Every instinct in me screams at me to get out of this room, to get away from him, but I think of the child growing inside me. I can’t risk anything happening to it.
I force myself to nod, my movements slow and deliberate. “All right,” I say softly, keeping my voice even despite the hammering of my heart. “But let me tell Nora where I’m going. She’ll worry if I don’t.”
Charles’s expression darkens ominously. “You don’t need to,” he says coldly. “Just leave. Come with me. She’s just staff. You don’t tell the staff where you’re going. They’re there to serve you, not the other way around. You need to take a few lessons from my mother.”
The venom in his voice chills me, but I square my shoulders, summoning every ounce of courage I can muster. “You’re right, I have to,” I say firmly, reaching for my phone on the table. “But — Let me just call my mom at least and tell her you’re here. She’s been asking about you. They’ve missed you so much.”
I dial Nora instead, my fingers trembling as I press the buttons. Before I can lift the phone to my ear, Charles lunges forward, snatching it from my hands. His grip is iron, his knuckles white as he clutches the device.
“What are you doing?” I stammer, panic rising in my throat. “Give it back, Charles.”
His smile is gone now, replaced by a cold, terrifying calm. “Hand it over,” he says, his voice low and menacing.
I try to laugh again, a feeble attempt to diffuse the tension. “Charles, stop being so ridiculous?—”
The glint of metal stops my words dead in my throat. He pulls out a gun from his jacket pocket, the barrel catching the light. I freeze with shock, but my mind races with every possible escape plan, all of them useless.
“Hand. It. Over,” he repeats, his voice quieter now, but far more dangerous.
I have no choice. My fingers tremble as I extend the phone toward him, my knees weak beneath me. He takes it without breaking eye contact.
“There’s no need for this, Charles,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Please, put the gun away. We can talk about this. You know me. I’m not going to run away from you. We were going to get married, remember?”
His lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Talking hasn’t worked so far, has it?” he sneers, slipping the gun back into his pocket. “Let’s not waste more time, Raven. We’re leaving. Now. By the way, I saw you buying a pregnancy test at the pharmacy and, judging by your expression, the test was positive.
I stare at him aghast. Even when he pulled out the gun I did not fear him as I do now that he has casually told me he has been stalking me without my knowledge.
“Make sure you smile at the staff as we pass by them or all three of us, you, me, and baby will be leaving this world together. I always fancied the idea of a triple suicide.”
Tears sting my eyes as I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I could lunge at him, but I could fall and harm my baby or he could make good his crazy threat. For the baby, I tell myself. For the baby’s sake I will go with him and figure out how to save myself when the opportunity presents itself.
He grabs my arm, his grip firm but not bruising, and steers me toward the door. The last thing I see before stepping out of the conservatory is the faint light filtering through the glass, a fragile reminder of the peace I’ve just left behind.