Marley's heart raced as she stared at the woman in front of her. Her eyes widened in disbelief; it was Olivia, an old acquaintance who now stood shamelessly as her husband's mistress. The pain lodged in Marley's throat, spreading through her bones, while her eyes filled with a blood-red fury.
"Olivia," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "You filthy slut!" Anger surged through her like a tidal wave, and without thinking, Marley slapped Olivia across the face. "First, your sister climbed into my father's bed, and now you dare seduce my husband? I curse you both to die!"
Marley's chest heaved violently, each breath a struggle as she recalled every animosity between them in the past. How could this be happening? And how could her husband choose someone like Olivia?
"Marley!" Oscar shouted, his voice thunderous. He pushed her hard against the wall, and her head pounded from the impact. "How dare you slap Olivia?"
As if drawn by some irresistible force, Oscar rushed over to protect the very woman who threatened to destroy his marriage. Marley watched, tears streaming down her face, as the man she loved shielded her enemy. That despicable woman had destroyed countless families before, and now it seemed she would tear apart Marley's marriage too.
"Oscar, how can you defend her?" Marley sobbed, choking on her own words. But her husband's face only hardened, leaving no room for sympathy or understanding. At that moment, Marley felt more alone than ever before.
"Stay out of this, Marley," he snarled, his voice cold and detached. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
On the stairs, Amelia's face was a portrait of severity, her eyes narrowing as she took in the chaotic scene unfolding before her. "What on earth is going on here?" she demanded, her voice sharp and commanding.
Oscar hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His mother had always been a formidable presence, instilling fear in him since childhood. It was Amelia who had insisted he marry Marley in the first place, despite his reluctance. He glanced at Marley, his gaze flicking from her tear-streaked face to the hand she pressed against the wall for support.
"Mother, I..." Oscar stammered, struggling to find the right words.
"I want a divorce," Marley blurted out, her voice shaking but determined. It felt as if a dam had broken inside her, releasing a torrent of emotions that could no longer be contained.
Amelia's eyes widened, and she shook her head vehemently. "Absolutely not," she snapped. "Divorce is not an option. If there are issues between you two, they must be resolved within the family."
Her gaze shifted to Olivia, taking in the woman's disheveled appearance and the expression of defiance on her face. "And who might this be?" Amelia asked, her tone dripping with disdain.
"Get her out of here," she ordered, waving a hand dismissively at one of the maids. But before the servant could move, Oscar stepped in front of Olivia, shielding her with his body.
"Mother, this is Olivia," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "She's... important to me."
Marley's heart twisted painfully at his words, feeling as if a dagger had been plunged into her chest. As the reality of the situation settled around her like a suffocating shroud, she couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so terribly wrong.
The piercing cry of a little girl cut through the tension in the room like a serrated knife. Marley's head snapped towards the source of the sound, her heart constricting as she saw Oscar rush to scoop up the wailing child.
"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," he crooned, his voice gentle and soothing - a stark contrast to the harsh words he had just thrown at Marley moments before. "Daddy's here."
Amelia's face softened with astonishment, her eyes darting between the child in Oscar's arms and the couple in front of her. The confusion was evident in her gaze, but so was the flicker of hope that ignited within her.
"Oscar," Amelia breathed, disbelief and joy intertwining in her voice. "Is this...?"
He nodded, cradling the girl protectively against his chest. "Yes, Mother. This is my daughter."
Marley felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Her vision swam, black spots dancing at the edges of her sight. For years, Amelia had been hounding her, questioning why she hadn't given birth to a child yet. And now, in the midst of this chaos, there was suddenly a granddaughter.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Oscar gushed, completely oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside his wife. "She's perfect."
A bitter laugh escaped Marley's lips, the sound brittle and broken. Of course, she thought, her throat tightening with unshed tears. Of course, he would have a child with that woman.
Olivia's tear-streaked face fell to the ground, her knees crumpling beneath her. "I know you don't like me," she sobbed, pleading with Amelia. "But Tricia—she's your real granddaughter." She gestured toward the little girl, who whimpered softly in Oscar's arms. "Marley pushed her, and now her arm is broken."
"Take her to the hospital," Olivia implored, desperation etched into every line of her face. "She's just a child—an innocent child. Beat me up, scold me—I can take it. But please, don't hurt my baby."
Oscar's hands moved quickly, lifting Tricia's sleeve to reveal a mottled bruise darkening her tiny wrist. The child's wails grew louder, more pained. His fury erupted like a volcano, spewing hot lava at Marley. "You're insane! How could you hurt my daughter?"
Marley's eyes blazed red, her chest heaving with rage. "I barely touched her! There's no way I broke her bone!"
"Please," Olivia clung to Oscar's arm, her voice trembling. "We need to get her to the hospital before her arm is ruined."
Oscar's eyes darkened, his glare cutting like a knife. "If anything happens to her, Marley, I swear..." The threat hung heavy in the air, choking the room with its intensity.
The Archer family was in chaos. Oscar and Olivia clutched the child between them as they hurried to the car. Amelia, her face stern and disapproving, followed close behind. Their footsteps echoed through the empty halls of the house, leaving Marley alone with her thoughts.
She slumped against the wall, knees drawn tight to her chest, fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt. Hot tears burned at the edge of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had been nothing but loyal, obedient, loving for three years – why did they treat her like dirt?