Chapter 11
I was in my room, lights off, just the faint glow of my phone lighting the ceiling. The kind of quiet that presses on your skin. Lucien had gone to sleep hours ago, after muttering something about my habit of doom–scrolling at midnight being “the digital version of bleeding out.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t trying to bleed tonight. But curiosity is a loaded gun, and I pulled the trigger anyway.
I opened Instagram. Shouldn’t have.
Elizabeth’s birthday post was the first thing that came up. Bright, sparkly, like a damn perfume ad.
The caption read:
“Blessed to spend my 46th birthday with the family I never knew I needed. Thank you @Edmund for the 7–day cruise party. I asked for waves. You gave me a storm of love.”
Seven–day cruise. Of course.
Photos came next–Edmund laughing like the world hadn’t burned down, his arm around my boys. My grandsons. Lester had his arms wrapped around Elizabeth like she was some Disney stepmother. Lyle and Nash- they were smiling. Real, toothy smiles.
I didn’t cry.
Jaw went tight, that’s all.
“They look like mine,” I whispered to the dark, my thumb frozen on the screen. “Because they
are.”
But the comments? The comments cut.
“She’s glowing! That’s what peace looks like when the other woman finally leaves.”
“When’s the wedding? You two are goals.”
“Can we talk about how happy Edmund looks? He found his real queen.”
“LOL the upgrade is unreal. Elizabeth whatever her name was.”
“Doris probably watching this from a dusty room drinking bitter tea.”
I saved the post.
Then screenshotted every single comment.
It wasn’t just for memory. It was ammunition. And maybe a little bit masochism.
I opened my gallery. Scrolled past the training vids Lucien kept sneaking in. Past the food pics I started taking again like some teenager rediscovering color.
And there they were.
The folder I never deleted.
Elizabeth + Edmund
Hundreds of screenshots. Snaps from years ago. Hidden smiles at family gatherings. Her hand brushing his tie in a way that made my skin crawl. Airport photos. Hotel lobbies. Texts I intercepted. Dates I pretended not to see because I still believed in marriage then.
Cheater 10
3/3 37.0%
5:17 am DDDD
They looked young. Desperate. Addicted to each other.I laughed once. Short. Dry.
Then I remembered exactly how that leech crawled her way into my life. Elizabeth had been with Edmund first. Teenage infatuation. She married Edmund’s brother after they broke up. Pool George–he didn’t deserve her. No one did.
And when George died in that car crash, Elizabeth came crawling back to Edmund like a widow in a Greek tragedy. Sobbing in his arms at the funeral. Wearing white to a black event. He became her comfort. Her crying shoulder. Her second chance.
I still remember the night I confronted him. Told him he’d missed Lester’s piano recital. Told him I was tired of being married to a ghost.
And you know what he said?
He shrugged.
Shrugged.
“She’s got no one, Doris. No husband. No kids. My brother left Elizabeth for me.”
Like that made it okay. Like her tragedy gave her rights to my husband.
I locked my phone, and sat up. My feet touched the cold marble floor like I was waking from a decade–long sleep.
I didn’t cry.
Instead, I reached for Lucien’s notebook on the nightstand. Scribbled a word down.
War.
Let Elizabeth keep her fake cruise smiles. Let them post hearts and hashtags and fairytales. Let the world call her queen.
She’s sitting on a stolen throne.
And I’m the one coming for the crown.
***
It wasn’t even six in the goddamn morning when my phone started blaring like sirens outside a crime scene. I blinked once, twice, groaned into the pillow. Lucien stirred in the hallway–I heard his grumble echo from the kitchen. Something about needing coffee strong enough to kill a
man.
reached for the phone.
Elizabeth.
Of course.
forgot to block her number. Again.
Maybe some sick part of me had left it open on purpose. Waiting. Hoping she’d finally lose it and show the rest of the world how completely batshit insane she really was.
answered. Calm. Cold.
‘What.”
Her voice exploded through the speaker like a banshee in a blender.
‘You sick witch! You STARVED my dogs while I was in the Bahamas with Edmund,
Chapter 10
5:17 am DDDD.
CELEBRATING MY BIRTHDAY. They’re dead. Both of them. DEAD this morning!”
I didn’t say anything.
Walked to the espresso machine and pushed the button. I let her scream echo off the marble.
“You had them killed! You always hated me! I told you to feed them!”
I put her on speaker and took a slow sip of coffee.
“I’m not your maid, Elizabeth. You’re the owner. You should’ve made sure your maid came back from her vacation before jetting off like a tacky reality star.”
“Don’t you dare play innocent with me!” Elizabeth screeched. “You’ve hated me from day one- admit it! Edmund told you to feed them while we were gone! He told me! They’re dead! They were my babies!”
I rolled my eyes, sat down on the couch, still in my robe.
“I don’t need to kill your dogs to ruin you. I can do that in a Chanel dress with clean hands.” “You’re jealous!” she wailed. “Just because Edmund didn’t bring you to the cruise you begged for on your 48th, you took it out on my babies. You murdered them! I told him! I told him everything. He’s coming home now. He’s going to beat you to pieces! Just wait. He’ll show you what happens when you cross me.”
I let out a soft laugh. Not loud. Not mocking. Just… amused. “Go on then. Press charges. Call your lawyers, post it on Instagram. Tell your twelve thousand Botoxed followers I poisoned your dogs. And Edmund?” I paused for effect. “He’s free. “We’re divorced, Elizabeth. He’s all yours now. Suck him dry like the leech you are.”
She went silent.
