AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Wesley nods. “He did. Twice.”
My jaw drops. “What made him stop?” After all, he clearly trusts Wesley a lot now. They had to have gotten over that rough patch, but Alexander doesn’t seem like the type to forgive easily.
“Mrs. Duke talked some sense into him.” There’s a note of sadness. “In the end, the girl ended up dating someone else. After that, we made a pact to never fall for the same girl.”
I nod, thinking of the woman I saw in the photo. From the way Alex—and now Wesley—speaks of her, she was a force of nature. A trulygoodwoman. No wonder it’s so difficult for Alex to even sleep in that house. It’s filled with so many painful memories.
I really hope we get to leave.
As if sensing my change in mood, Wesley says, “But that’s in the past. Alexander seems happier than I’ve ever seen him with you. You’re good for him.”
My cheeks heat up, a montage of our relationship flashing before my eyes. The last thing I see is that message from the campus clinic—if I’m actually pregnant, that will be the next phase of our relationship. We’d be more than lovers, more than partners. We’d be parents.
Oh gosh,I’m still not used to thinking of it like that.
A few minutes later, Wesley pulls into a yard. It looks like a regular single family brick house, in a regular neighborhood on the outskirts of town. There’s a yard big enough for kids to play in, with a wooden fence. Smoke billows into the air from a chimney, and a huge tree hangs over the roof.
Wesley kills the engine and rounds the car to open my door. Instead of entering through the front door, we walk along the side of the house. It’s nosey of me, but I can’t stop myself from taking a peek through the open window. There’s a kid sitting at a table in the kitchen, eating some grapes, while a white-haired woman is busy stirring something on the stove.
We end up at the entrance to what looks like a cellar. Wesley opens the doors, and a flight of stairs sinks into the darkness. This could go so badly if Wesley has any ill intentions. Fortunately, he descends the stairs before me so I can make a quick exit if I need to.
There’s another door up ahead.
When it opens, my heart stops racing. It looks like a typical waiting room, complete with a receptionist’s desk, plush chairs to sit in and a stack of magazines on the coffee table. The linoleum walls are filled with medical charts and diagrams. The air is sterile and smells a little like cinnamon and some kind of pine-scented cleaning product.
The lady behind the receptionist desk looks up from her novel when we enter. She’s middle-aged, with smooth dark skin and box braids hanging past her shoulders. She gives us a bright smile.
“How can I help you, Wes?” Her accent is distinctly foreign. She sounds like she’s from somewhere in the Caribbean, but I can’t be sure where.
Wesley walks over to the desk. I follow, giving the woman a small wave.
“Elva, this is Alize.” Elva nods in my direction. “She’s Alexander’s fiancée, and she’s here for a checkup.”
At the mention of Alexander’s name, Elva’s whole face lights up.
“We’ve all been hearing about you,” she quips, grinning while she shuffles with the papers on the desk. “It’s so great to finally meet you! The doctor can see you in a few minutes. He’s finishing up with a patient now.”
Wesley nods, leaving the receptionist’s desk to sink into one of the chairs in the waiting room. I linger by Elva’s desk a bit longer. She doesn’t seem to mind, with her bright smile and attentive eyes.
“They weren’t lying when they said you were beautiful. You’re even prettier in person,” Elva says, webbing her fingers then resting her chin on them. “I love your hair.”
I laugh nervously, ghosting a hand over my hair. In person? Where did they see me before this?
“Who’sthey?” I ask.
One side of her smile drops a little, but she doesn’t break eye contact.
“The family,” she says simply. “We all heard about your engagement.”
That’s not really an answer, is it? But Elva’s a part of the Empire—just like Wesley, just like Ingrid, just like Alexander. The cryptic answers, the unspoken rules, it’s all part of their “family” situation. My eyes track down to the huge rock on my finger.
No, nottheirfamily situation.
It’s my family situation too.
“That’s good then.” I grin. “Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”
Then I sit beside Wesley in the waiting area, because I can’t think of anything else to say. The last thing I need is to start babbling nervously to this very nice woman and change her opinion of me. If everyone here thinks I’m nice and sweet, I ought to keep it that way.
