Safe haven | Rick Grimes

049. WE NEED TO TALK

Chapter forty nine

"We need to talk."

Scarlett couldn't take it anymore. The suffocating weight of the silence, the lingering threats, and the constant looking over her shoulder had pushed her to her limit. The moment they returned from their walk, Rick left for his first official shift as constable, and Carl stepped up to watch Judith. Seeing her window of opportunity, Scarlett slipped out of the house.

She marched down the pavement, her boots hitting the asphalt with a determined rhythm until she reached the house on the corner—her old home.

The garage door was rolled up, casting a shadow over Jessie, who stood inside organizing tools and wiping down a workbench. Scarlett stopped at the edge of the driveway, the sunlight hitting her face.

"You wanted us to talk?" Scarlett called out, her voice echoing slightly in the open garage.

Jessie froze, a cleaning rag gripped in her hand. She slowly turned around to face Scarlett, her expression a mix of nervousness and profound relief. She offered a small, solemn nod.

"We do," Jessie said softly.

Without another word, Jessie turned and opened the side door leading directly into the main house. Scarlett took a deep breath, braced herself against the flood of old memories, and followed her inside.

Stepping across the threshold was surreal. As they walked into the kitchen, a cold shiver ran down Scarlett's spine. It looked exactly the same as she remembered. The dining area, the living room—the entire layout was a time capsule of her past life. She walked deeper into the room, her eyes locking onto a small side table. There, framed in silver, was her wedding picture. The pristine image of her in the white gown made her stomach turn, the phantom sound of tearing lace screaming in her mind.

"Scarlett."

Jessie's quiet voice broke the spell. Scarlett turned to see her holding out a condensation-chilled glass of lemonade. Scarlett took it automatically, her fingers numb. "Thank you."

"Sit. Please," Jessie urged gently, gesturing toward the couch.

They sat down on the cushions, facing one another. For a long moment, neither of them said a word. The heavy silence of the house seemed to press down on them.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Scarlett," Jessie said softly, her eyes searching Scarlett's face.

"It's... it's not you that I'm afraid of," Scarlett replied, her voice a sharp whisper as her eyes darted back toward the hallway.

"He's not here right now," Jessie assured her, noticing the frantic look. She took a deep breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. "The day I saw you outside the house, I wanted so badly to talk to you. When I first met Pete, he told me that you were crazy. But I could never quite understand it, because ever since we got married, he's been... practically obsessed with you. He kept your pictures up. He's called me by your name more times than I can count. He even told me never to dye my hair because he preferred it blonde. Yet, he always spoke so highly of you to everyone else."

Scarlett let out a hollow, bitter breath and nodded. "Yeah. That seems to be the consensus between you, Deanna, Aaron, and Eric. He plays the perfect doctor."

She set the lemonade down before her hands could shake and spill it, looking Jessie dead in the eyes.

"But what none of you know is the truth," Scarlett said, her voice dropping into a deadly, chilling calm. "When we were in our residency program, we went out for drinks with some friends. I spoke to one of the male residents for a few minutes. Pete thought I was flirting with him. I actually laughed it off, because he and I had been together since college. I didn't think anything of it. But then he got this look in his eyes—a look I've seen countless times since. I saw it on my own father right before he beat my mother to death when I was a little girl. So, let's just say it was a complete surprise the next morning when I woke up with my eyes swollen shut."