Hidden [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5

Freen moves into the yellow house the next day. Since she was in mourning, she could take flexible leave from work. Freen decided to seize this opportunity to play the role of an undercover wildlife illustrator and get close to Becky.

Right now, she is outside the house, playing soccer with Lyra. It is early morning. Lyra is ready for school. They are waiting for the school bus when Lyra insists that Freen play with her. Freen easily melts at the sight of the little girl’s cute face.

"......and what a match this is. It's Lyra on the attack. She turns left, then right, and goes for goal...."

".....and she scores...." Freen screams. Both of them jump up and down in joy. Lyra runs to Freen and jumps into her arms. Freen picks her up, twirling her around.

Just then, Becky comes out of the house with Lyra's backpack, smiling widely. She watches the two of them having fun, completely unaware of the world around them.

"Come on, Lyra. It's time to go," Becky announces as she approaches and joins the embrace. Freen is surprised when two slender, strong arms wrap around her. It feels perfect, with the three of them fitting together so well in the hug.

"Let's go," Becky says, extending her hands for Lyra to take.

"Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?" Freen pretends to pout.

Lyra wraps her arms around Freen’s neck and places a kiss on her cheek. After that, she takes Becky’s hands, who is looking at Freen with an intense gaze that Freen cannot decipher.

Freen watches the two departing figures, feeling mixed emotions.

At Becky’s house, there is a spacious room on the upper floor, except for a couple of boxes filled with documents. Various photographs are pasted on the wall, showing Saint, Becky, and Lyra. It is hard to look at, considering they look like a happy family.

"Sorry, those are Saint's things. I will clear them out to make space for you," Becky tells Freen as she shows her the room.

"No, leave it. The room is big enough, and I won't stay more than a few weeks anyway," Freen replies.

"At least let me remove those pictures," Becky insists, walking toward the wall. She takes a box with her, begins tearing the pictures, and putting them in the box.

Watching her, Freen can tell that Becky is struggling with this. She can relate. Freen still does not have the strength to clear out Saint's things from their house—it all still remains, including his clothes hanging in their shared wardrobe.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Becky says, sniffling. Freen doesn’t like that she is adding to Becky’s pain.

"Maybe I should look for another place. This is a bad idea," Freen suggests, trying to walk away.

But Becky catches her wrists, stopping her. "I want you to stay." They stand in silence, staring at each other.

Becky releases their intertwined hands, clears her throat, and continues speaking, "It will be fine. Besides, I could use the company. And Lyra already loves you."

"You don’t have to worry; your guy can stay over when he comes."

Freen is puzzled for a moment before she notices Becky’s gaze on her wedding ring. She should have taken it off.

"There’s no guy," she says as she walks away, trying to unpack her bags.

"I don’t even know why I wear this anymore."

"What happened?" Becky asks.

"He left me for another woman."

"Really?"

"Yes. I guess making love to the same person for ten years could be boring."

"Was it boring for you?"

"No. I thought we had a pretty active sex life."

"And there was passion?"

"I hope so."

"Maybe you should try something else."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you should have slept with someone else?"

"What? No. I was in love."

"So?" Becky questions.

"I'm talking about sex. It doesn't have to mean anything. It's as natural as breathing."

"But..." Freen begins.

"Sex is pure instinct." Becky walks closer, taking Freen's hands in her own. "I've had my share of flings. But the only person I ever wanted to wake up next to was Saint."

They hold each other’s gaze for a few moments. "A good hook-up can change a terrible day into a good one."

Freen’s eyes widen in surprise before she breaks away, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions. She looks around the room in despair. "What if we painted the room?"

Becky looks at her with amusement and curiosity.

"I know it might not be as good as a fling, but it can still improve the day," Freen adds.

They both chuckle.

"Okay, I'll leave you to unpack while I make some tea. Come downstairs when you’re ready for some homemade raspberry tea, and then we will head to the store for paint and supplies," Becky offers.

"Thank you, Becky," Freen says, appreciating the kindness. "Do you always make your own drinks?"

"Did you not see the greenhouse next door? I love to plant fruits and vegetables. What do you think I do here?" Becky replies.

"Nice. I'd love a tour of the greenhouse later," Freen smiles at her.

"Sure, Sam. Anytime," Becky smiles back as she heads downstairs.

As Freen unpacks, she keeps staring at the boxes containing her husband’s things. She wants to check them out but decides it’s better to snoop late at night when Becky thinks she's asleep. After all, Freen's room does not have a door—just a staircase leading up, and Becky could come in any time.

One thing is for sure: the woman is becoming more intriguing to Freen with each passing day.