Homewrecker

45 - 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭

The news was on the Denvers' television too, turned to another cable channel, above the white brick fireplace in their living room, more footage of me on the screen as I seemed to take in one of the questions Kelly Bright had asked, no doubt trying to remember whatever Deshaun had instructed me earlier, but a voiceover from one of the anchors overshadowed my answer when I walked into their house, following tentatively behind Taylor-Elise and Andi.

The open concept first floor was so minimalistic that the sound carried and echoed from the television and into the kitchen, still only the sparse fake houseplant to color the otherwise white and wood-themed room.

Ethan was standing in front of the kitchen island, leaned against the cabinets with his hands braced behind him until he noticed me in the doorframe and straightened, his olive-toned complexion paling somewhat as his gaze quickly flickered over to the television.

At least, that was how it seemed until I followed his eyes and realized that on one of the white couches angled to face the fireplace, was a brunette turned away from me.

"I really didn't know she was going to do this," he whispered after approaching us near the doorframe, casting another quick glance over to the brunette on the couch I was beginning to realize was probably his and Taylor-Elise's mother, watching the archived footage of me. "I just asked her to look into it and she did . . . this."

I was still looking at their mother on the couch when Andi whispered back, "Why would you ask her to look into it? Why do you even know?"

Ethan shot her a look. "Why do you know?" he asked her, sarcastically.

"She's living in my house, of course I know."

He turned to me. "Seriously? You give me crap for not saying abs or rich, but you'll let calling you a roommate slide?"

I was still too busy distractedly looking at his mother on the couch who either hadn't noticed or heard our hushed whispering in the corner of the room or, more likely, was ignoring us to watch the Channel 2 News, to respond to him.

From where she was sitting across the room, I wasn't able to see much of her, just the color of her hair that already familiar to me even though I had never met her, and the pale blue material of her shirt. I didn't know that much about her either, like what her name was or where she lived when it wasn't summer, but I knew what Ethan had told me about her which was that she was never home.

She was a prosecutor who wasn't there, even if she was just in the office downstairs with this unspoken rule looming in their home that a closed door stayed closed. She chose something over her kids, just like my mother had, although hers actually contributed to society instead of just drain bank accounts and rot her teeth. But maybe that made it harder, because maybe then that made you the selfish one if you asked her to stop, be a normal mom, be around.

I steeled myself, walking around Ethan to where his mother was sitting on the couch, reminding myself that this wasn't my mother and her kids weren't me. My mother was buried forty minutes from here and she was the one who leaked the murder investigation to the press.

"Why would you leak the investigation?" I blurted out, maneuvering around the white couches arranged around the expansive coffee table, nearly bumping into one of the fake houseplants. "I don't even know you."

There was a pause as she reached for the remote and muted the screen. From behind me, Ethan mumbled, "Mom, this is Bronwyn."

"Like, I don't get it. It makes no sense that you would do that."

My footsteps were quiet on the hardwood floors as I walked around the armrest of one of the couches and stood in front of the unlit fireplace beneath the muted television screen mounted to the sparse section of white wall between the windowpanes.