The evening autumn lingered, casting a warm orange glow over the manicured lawn as Eleanor stepped down from the cab. The crunch of gravel beneath her heels was the only sound that broke the silence. She made her way towards the door, her footsteps deliberate and slow. The weight of the day's events bore down on her, each painful memory etched in her mind like a fresh wound.
As she pushed open the door, the soft creak of the hinges seemed to echo through the stillness. She stepped inside, shutting the door firmly behind her, the sound a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within. The quiet opulence of the foyer enveloped her, but she barely registered it, her thoughts consumed by the tangled web of emotions that had been building all day.
Her head throbbed, a relentless drumbeat that threatened to shatter her fragile composure. Questions and accusations swirled in her mind, each one a fresh barb that pierced her already battered heart. The faces of those she had encountered that day danced before her eyes, their words and actions a maddening jumble of truth and deceit.
Just as she was about to retreat to the sanctuary of her room, the sound of raised voices drifted from the living room, shattering the stillness. The words were indistinct, but the tone was unmistakable – anger, frustration, and a hint of desperation. Eleanor's heart quickened as she recognized the voice of the man she had married. Liam's words were laced with a passion she had rarely seen in him, and her curiosity was piqued.
She hesitated for a moment, her hand on the banister, as she debated whether to intervene or retreat. But something about the urgency in Liam's voice drew her in, and she found herself moving quietly towards the living room, her ears straining to catch the words.
As she approached the door, the voices grew louder, and she could make out the words. Liam's father, Marcus, was speaking, his voice cold and calculating. Liam's response was immediate, his voice rising in a barrage of questions.
"What will happen if the media gets a hold of our family's secrets, Liam? How are we going to contain it?"
Liam's response was calm and measured. "We'll handle it, Father. We always do."
But Marcus was relentless, his questions pouring out in a torrent. "How can you be so sure? What if someone talks? What if there's proof? What if...what if...what if..."
Eleanor's eyes widened as she listened to Marcus's words. He was like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go. And Liam's responses were growing increasingly evasive.
The room fell silent, the only sound was the heavy breathing of the two men. Eleanor's heart was racing, her mind reeling with the implications of Liam's words.
And then, Marcus asked the question that made Eleanor's heart skip a beat. "Why did you marry that woman, Liam? What will you do when the media starts talking about the marriage scandal? Huh!" His father yelled.
The room fell silent again, the tension thickened, so did Eleanor's curiosity. She wanted to know what exactly she had gotten herself into by accepting this marriage.
She had her heart struck in her throat as she held onto the door handle to see what was going on. Her eyes were glued to the door, her ears straining to hear Liam's response. But it never came.
"Don't be stupid! I told you to get married, I didn't mean you should go ahead and marry a low-life debtor. I raised you better than that!" Marcus shouted.
Eleanor's heart sank to the depths of her body and she couldn't help the tears that fell down her cheek. Liam's father had a fair point. She was a low-life debtor.
Wiping her tears, she turned and walked away. Perhaps this was what Liam meant by there were so many things she had yet to find out.
As Eleanor turned to head back to her room, she was abruptly confronted with the unsettling presence of Liam's father, Marcus. He burst out of the living room, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disdain. His eyebrows were knitted in a deep frown, and the lines on his face seemed to grow more pronounced as he glared at her.
Eleanor didn't need to be an expert in reading people to sense the animosity radiating from Marcus. It was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with every beat of his heart. She stood her ground, her feet rooted to the spot as Marcus approached her.
His words were laced with venom as he spat them out, his voice low and menacing. "My son should have never married you," he growled, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity.
Eleanor felt a flush rise to her cheeks as Marcus's words cut deep. She tried to respond, to defend herself against his vicious attacks, but her voice caught in her throat. She stood there, frozen in silence, as Marcus continued to berate her.
The old man took a step closer, his face inches from hers. Eleanor could feel his warm breath on her skin, could smell the scent of his cologne. She tried to step back, to create some distance between them, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot.
"I'm sure that the only reason we're in this mess is all because of you, you vile woman!" Marcus spat, his words dripping with malice.
Eleanor's face burned with embarrassment and anger, but she refused to back down. She stood her ground, her eyes locked onto Marcus's, as she tried to find her voice.
"I...I was just...I was looking for Liam," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Marcus scoffed, his face twisting in disgust. "Guess you lost your voice, didn't you?" he sneered, his eyes glinting with triumph.
The old man's words were like a slap in the face, and Eleanor felt herself reeling from the impact. She tried to respond, to defend herself against Marcus's vicious attacks, but her voice was gone, lost in the face of his overwhelming hostility.
Marcus turned and walked away, leaving Eleanor standing alone in the hallway. She felt like she'd been punched in the gut, her breath knocked out of her. She stumbled backwards, her hand reaching out for the wall to steady herself.
With a sense of resignation, Eleanor walked into her room. Looking at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel like a stranger in her own body.
"I am now Mrs Liam Chase," she said to herself as if trying to convince herself of the reality of her situation.