I stared at the words, disbelief flooding my system. How could this be?
Chapter 43–Lingeing Doubis
Emerson’s POW
The past few days had been a winwint of emptors. Even me thought of sate my mind sprales into confusion Why Dis STATZE this effect on me Mw did the presence imper in my Broughs mrzi
my nerves and grawing at my san?
i had always convinced myself that my feelings for the MERTE TESTING more than fleeting remnants of our manage but the caousy and anger that surped within me wherevesamte with Foter
made
gripped the steering whee tight as et sape behind in the Suburbs, with Roper er fagle appearance was Dunes is W memory. The way she looked at me as though were the les persp ste wanted to see my fueled my fristatom But treat that frustration was something teeper–something reused to
acknowledge
The car ride back to the office was se My phone buzzer snapping (me out of my thougms it was Ulim (nestalet berore answering
knowing what was coming
“Emerson.” ste puned her voice droping with sweetess The see thinking about you all day. Why control come e ng Isa your favorite dinner and we can. O ASTON Tave some fur affermars
Il could picture ter on the other end paying with te tar typ to lune me in with the same tactics that once worked effortessy Burtosayt fet nothing sigted tying to mask my differens
on
With the grot a lot of my plane ginnow I sad from my race to sound apologetic. Maybe another time”
There was a pause could almost tear the disassommer m
sien
But befoe ste uit some tip to you?
Hervace as is warmin as steeplec. Sie. But don’t kee
Render the call, a sense of quit ceeging in Lith seething! nough wartet. Yet the thought of seeing her tonight let me cole.
My mind keat drifting back te sote and Poet. The way Robert had cared for her, he enteres in sections Why delaw
together? What was their connections
Back at the offficeted to focus on work. Sut the image of Fort gerty administering sade’s medione repavec in my mic. The ealousy wisted inside me, bitter andrelentes. She had been mine ance. How had it come to this? Was she really moving on with min? stock my head ring to banish the thought but it persisted.
That might, unable to take it any longer contacted my private investigator. He picked up on the firstring
‘Did Isabel move into the apartment yet?” I asked, keeping my voice
“Yes,” the investigator confirmed. She arrived earlier today, with the same man as before. But he didn’t go inside with her.”
A wave of relief washed over me, but it was tainted with a bitter aftertaste. So, they weren’t living together. Maybe they weren’t as close as I feared. Stil, the thought of him taking her there left a sour taste in
Although we were divorced. I couldn’t let go of the need to ensure Isabel’s well–being. The hair I found in the shower haunted me. It was a sign, a warning that something was wrong. I had to know the truth.
She had to explain it. After all, her father’s sins were something ste
needed to atone for, but not with her life. The thought of her being homeless or sick terrified me more than I cared to admit.
Her words from that night replayed in my head, a sinister echo in my thoughts. “What if I died?” she had asked, her voice trembling. It was like a nightmare, one that had burrowed into my subconscious and refused to leave.
The next day, I arrived at the hospital early, Isabel walked in. Did I imagine it, or did her golden hair look fuller again? She w
still very pale and skinny though.
She didn’t look happy to see me, as usual. I anxiously waited as she went through the examination, my nerves fraying with each passing. minute.
When the report finally came, my relief quickly turned to anger. How could I have been so foolish? The diagnosis was nothing more than a nervous headache.
I had let my emotions cloud my judgment, jumping to conclusions that were far from the truth. I lost my temper. But beneath my anger was at profound sense of relief. She wasn’t dying. She wasn’t going to disappear from my life completely..
“Here, sign this,” I said as I finally passed her the papers. As she signed the agreement, a part of me felt vindicated. But I wasn’t done. There was one last thing I needed to tell her–a final blow to satisfy my need. for revenge.
“Isabel,” I said, my voice cold and deliberate, “Lilith wasn’t the only victim. Your father was a lot worse than you thought.”
The shock on her face was everything I had hoped for. But as I walked away, a lingering doubt crept in. Had gone too far? Was this really what I wanted?