Edna Johnson is a young mother who's had to learn survival the hard way. Abandoned by her parents and betrayed by the man she once loved, she's determined to give her child the love and stability she never had-even if it means standing alone.
Alex L...
I felt like doing something with my hands. I'd been sitting around all morning with nothing to do. Peter was at daycare and, though I didn't like the idea, he needed to socialize. Mrs. Trent was picking him up later to spend the night—she'd been complaining she barely saw him since we moved. She was probably right.
In the kitchen, I found Alex's housekeeper sorting ingredients for dinner. What was her name again? Oh, right—Regina.
"Hey, Regina?"
"Miss John—"
"Please," I interrupted. "Edna is fine."
She smiled. "Okay, Edna. Can I help you?"
"Yes, actually," I said, wringing my fingers together. "I was wondering if you'd let me cook dinner tonight?"
"Of course. Do you need help?"
"Thanks, but no. I just... need to do something."
"Okay. I'll let myself out, then. Bye."
"Thanks. Bye."
She gathered her things and walked out. A few minutes later, I heard the front door close.
Regina had been getting ready to make spaghetti and stew, so I continued with that. I put the spaghetti on the fire and got started on the stew. Cooking was everything to me—I'd always had a knack for it.
I washed the veggies and potatoes, chopped everything finely, and began mixing my ingredients until the aroma of the simmering stew filled the kitchen. I'd turned on the sound system halfway through and was swaying gently to some slow country music while stirring.
By the time I finished cooking and cleaned my workspace, I felt lighter—at least mentally.
"You always loved to cook," came a voice from the kitchen doorway. "It wasn't an act."
I turned around. Alex. Of course. As disoriented as I was by his sudden appearance, I still found the strength to roll my eyes.
Was everything I did a performance to him?
"Welcome back, Alex. I take it work was fine?"
"It was... revealing," he answered, distracted.
"All good then. I made spaghetti. Want some?"
"I'd love some," he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Odd.
"Okay..." I dished up some food for him and served myself as well. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the mini bar and poured us both a glass.
He took a bite of the food and, for a while, said nothing.
"Amazing. Just... amazing."
"Thanks, Alexander. The wine is good too," I said. And it was. Strange, though. Since when was Alex Laurent so generous with good wine? Was he celebrating something?
"Regina didn't cook today?"
"No. I asked her to leave. She'll resume tomorrow."
"Why don't you keep cooking?"
"I don't need to," I replied, a strange calm running through my veins.
"Oh. Okay. Where's Peter?"
"At Mrs. Trent's."
We ate in silence. I could tell he wanted to keep the conversation going, but I wasn't interested. Something about him felt off tonight, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
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ALEX'S POV
I hated how I felt right now.
I thrived on being in control—but at this moment, I was in control of absolutely nothing. Guilt weighed heavily on me. The kind of guilt that crept into your bones and sat there, rotting everything in its path.
"You can keep cooking if you want to, Edna," I said, after both our plates were cleared. "Regina doesn't have to cook all the time."
"No thanks. I'd hate to be accused of poisoning your food."
"Edna..."
She stood up and took the dishes to the sink. Then, she turned to face me.
"We both know why I'm here, Alex. Let's not overdo it," she said calmly. "The sooner I can leave this house, the better. No need for me to start playing house."
She paused.
"Good night, Alex."
I buried my face in my palms and fought the urge to groan out loud.
This couldn't be more difficult.
Curse my outrageous sense of revenge.
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