Chapter 2 - The Perfect Lunch
The doorbell rang at exactly noon. Evelyn was never late. She treated punctuality not as a virtue, but as a weapon to catch others off guard.
Daniel opened the door, wrapping his mother in a tight embrace. "Mom, you look wonderful," he beamed, taking her coat.
I stood in the foyer, my hands clasped together in front of me, wearing the smile Daniel had ordered me to wear. Beneath the heavy layer of makeup, my skin felt tight, burning slightly where the bruises throbbed.
Evelyn stepped inside, her sharp eyes immediately scanning the entryway. She was a woman carved from ice, with immaculate silver hair and a gaze that always seemed to be calculating the exact net worth of everything in the room.
She looked at me. Her eyes lingered on my face for a fraction of a second too long. The concealer was good, but perhaps I looked a little too pale, my expression a little too stiff.
"You look tired, Clara," she noted, her voice dripping with faux concern. "I hope you haven't been keeping Daniel up with your endless worrying. He works so hard to provide for you."
"Just a mild headache, Evelyn," I replied evenly. "Lunch is ready. Please, come into the dining room."
The dining table was set with the fine china Evelyn had gifted us—a thinly veiled insult implying I didn't own anything good enough for her son. I had prepared a roasted chicken, her favorite, along with asparagus and rosemary potatoes.
As we sat down, Daniel took his place at the head of the table. He looked at me, a subtle nod of approval in his eyes. I had played the part perfectly. The submissive, obedient wife.
Evelyn cut into her chicken and sighed softly. "A bit dry, isn't it? But then, not everyone has the touch for roasting."
Daniel chuckled, patting his mother's hand. "Clara tries her best, Mom. But you'll be able to show her how it's really done when you move in."
Evelyn smiled warmly at him, then turned her cold gaze to me. "Yes, Daniel told me the good news. I think it’s for the best. This house is far too large for a woman who can't even fill it with children. I’ll make sure it finally feels like a proper home."
A year ago, that comment would have sent me running to the bathroom to cry. Six months ago, I would have argued, only to be gaslit by Daniel into apologizing.
Today, I simply took a sip of my water.
"It's a very large house, indeed," I agreed smoothly. "It requires a lot of... management."
Daniel shot me a warning glance, unsure of my tone, but my smile remained fixed. I checked the grandfather clock in the corner. 12:45 PM.
"Well, I've already contacted a moving company," Evelyn continued, taking a sip of wine. "I want the guest room facing the garden, of course. We will need to clear out your little office, Clara. You don't really need a whole room just for reading, do you?"
"I suppose things will have to change," I said.
Daniel leaned back, looking incredibly satisfied. He believed he had broken me. He believed last night's violence had finally shattered my willpower, rearranging the hierarchy of our marriage exactly to his liking. He took a long drink of his wine, looking around the room like a king surveying his conquered lands.
"We'll make it work," Daniel said, raising his glass to his mother. "To family."
"To family," Evelyn echoed.
May you like
I didn't raise my glass. I just kept my eyes on the front window.
At 12:50 PM, a black and white patrol car quietly pulled up to the curb.
