Leilani knows she can’t ignore the signs, but she wants nothing more than to rush over and stop Waylen. She wants to tell him the baby is his. She wants to help him.
“We’re young and can afford to lose a child; we’ll have more in the future,” Leilani thinks, “But do we have a future? Even if I help him and convince him to trust me again, so what? The poison in my body means that I can’t have heirs for the Bamford. And if I risk my life in labor and die, Waylen and I won’t be together. How’s that better than this?”
Leilani catches her breath and takes a final look at the man on the bed. As if he can sense her eyes on him, he turns and gives her a mocking look. Their eyes meet, and she holds his gaze. Leilani is the first to break the stare; she drops her eyes down to the floor.
Waylen frets as Leilani looks away. Her expression seems to suggest she’s made some sort of compromise with herself. He knows he’d forgive her no matter how many times she hurts him. He was hoping that seeing him with Leonie would upset her; he was hoping she’s trying to stop him. But she seems to have given up on him.
Without looking at him again, she squares her shoulders with determination and leaves the room. As the door shuts, he feels all hope and possibility die within him. He gives into the animal desire coursing through his veins. In the hall, Leilani leaned her back against the door and weakly slipped into a sitting position.
“Mrs. Bamford, are you alright?” Robert asks, offering her his hand to help her up.
“Leave me alone,” she whispers, shaking her head at him.
“Mrs. Bamford, I’ll escort you back,” Robert says gently.
Leilani knows that each sound they make will torture her, but she can’t find the will to move. Her face had gone pale, and her body still shakes.
“What am I hoping?” she wonders, “That he can control himself? That he’ll suddenly change his mind and open this door?”
Reality soon slaps her across the face. Leonie’s whimpers and Waylen’s groans soon fill the air. The sounds turn her stomach, and she runs to the bathroom. She vomits uncontrollably and finds herself unable to stop. She tastes bile, and her eyes water. Images of them in her bedroom, on her bed, moving up and down in ecstasy appear in her mind. She tries to tell herself it’s okay. She tries to convince herself that this will give her a clean break from Waylen.
“I’ll never truly belong here,” she thinks, “Waylen is like a mirage in the desert. The closer, I think I am, the further away he gets. I’ll never really be able to have him.”
Time passes with agonizing slowness. She gazes at her face in the mirror and blanches as if she’s seen a ghost. She doesn’t know what she’s doing or waiting for.
She suddenly feels parched and tries to get herself some water. In a daze, she reaches for the hot water, but her hands shake so badly the water splashes onto her skin instead of into the cup. She jerked her hand away, and the glass clatters to the floor. She blows cold air on her injured hand.
She wanders through the house and finds herself in the library. She stops at a bookshelf and tries to choose a book, the titles blur. She knows she can’t concentrate long enough to read one of the thick tomes. Filled with sudden anxiety, she begins to pace the house.
Every time she passes a clock, she stops to look at the time. It’s already been half an hour, and she wonders when they’ll finish. When she blinks, she can see images of them intertwined as if they were right in front of her. The house begins to feel stifled. She opens the door and walks into the yard.
The maid at the door follows her out, “Mrs. Bamford, where are you going? Wait for me. Robert asked me to follow you.”
Leilani ignores the maid’s voice. She wants to leave the place where she feels oppressed.
On the right side of Bamford’s property is a river. There’s a school nearby, and young lovers sometimes walk to the river to kiss and place floating lanterns in the water. She can’t bear to see other people in love.
She looks back at the house and sees that the sun has come out again. Even in the sunlight, the tall, imposing building looks dark and sinister. She glances up at her bedroom and sees that the window has been open. Her curtains blow wild in the breeze — her stomach clenches.
“They’re probably airing out the room,” she thinks.
Robert knocks and enters the room. The distinct smell of s.e.x hits him immediately. Robert lowers his head and approaches Waylen with embarrassment. Waylen has called and asked for rubbing alcohol and gauze, and Robert has no choice but to obey. He wonders why Waylen needs first aid.
“Did he overexert and hurt himself?” Robert wonders, “Or did he injure Leonie?”
He sees the bodies intertwined on the bed and quickly averts his gaze. Robert rushes into the bathroom and begins to prepare the first aid equipment. The tap is running in the bathroom and water overflows from the bathtub. Robert looks at the water and sees that it’s red with blood. Waylen sits in the tub, half-conscious.
“Sir?” Robert calls nervously.
Waylen’s hands are clenched into fists, and blood drips from between his fingers. Robert glances out into the bedroom and notices a broken mirror on top of the dresser. He rushes to Waylen and gently uncurls the man’s fingers. A piece of glass is deeply embedded into Waylen’s palm. The skin around the wound is covered in sticky, dark blood. Robert rushes to get Waylen out of the water and helps him sit on a chair.
“If Waylen is in here, who are the people on the bed?” Robert wonders, “Did Waylen intentionally stab himself to try to control his l.u.s.t?”
Waylen leans against the back of the chair. His eyes are empty as if his soul has left his body, and he lets Robert tend his wound without complaint or criticism.
“Where is she?” Waylen suddenly asks.
Robert knows he’s referring to Leilani.
“They say Mrs. Bamford is out taking a walk along the Lover’s river,” he answers.
Waylen forces a bitter smile. He can’t believe she’s in the mood for a casual walk.
“Tell her I want to see her,” Waylen orders
“Yes, sir,” Robert responds.
It’s early evening, and the clouds are streaked pink and red. The dusky sun shines on Leilani’s face and covers it with warmth. Leilani feels sadness emanating from her heart, and she can’t help but shiver.
When the maid tells her that Waylen wants to see her, she clenched her fists. She doesn’t know how to face him. She composes her face into an emotionless mask and begins to walk back to the house.
Waylen is still in her bedroom, and Robert lets her into the room with a complicated look.
“Mrs. Bamford, Mr. Bamford is waiting for you inside,” he announces.
Now the curtains are closed. One faint lamp illuminates the otherwise dark room. Upon entering, the intense smell of love-making makes Leilani feel nauseous. She covers her mouth and presses her hand against the wall, fighting the urge to vomit. Waylen sits on a chair near the window.
“Come in,” Waylen orders.
His voice is frosty. Leilani immediately remembers a time three years ago when he said the exact same thing, in the exact same voice, in a similarly dark room. She shudders, remembering his promise to make her regret ever marrying him.
“Waylen was true to his word,” Leilani thinks ruefully, “I regretted our marriage countless times. But soon, I can put all that behind me; I can walk away from all the pain and hurt without regret.”
She takes a deep breath but doesn’t answer him. Instead, she takes a swift look around the room. Leonie isn’t there, but the bed is rumpled, and the sheets lie twisted at the bottom of the mattress. Leonie’s clothes are scattered across the floor. Leilani knows Waylen is deliberately manipulative—he’s summoned her to the room so she can see the evidence of the passionate love-making.
Leilani looks back at Waylen. The evidence of their s.e.x stabs her in the heart like an arrow. She takes a deep breath and imagines constructing a steel wall around her heart. She imagines the arrows breaking painlessly against the wall. She refuses to let him see her suffer, and she tries to force a neutral expression.
“What do you want?” Leilani asks.
“Are you pregnant?”
“Yes,” Leilani answers curtly.
She doesn’t want to say more. She already told him the baby is his. If he doesn’t believe her, she can’t do anything about it.
“Get rid of it,” Waylen says, his voice cold and flat.
As if his words are some sort of omen, a fierce gust of wind begins to blow. Clouds start to roll in, and thunder rumbles in the distance. A bolt of lightning suddenly illuminates Leilani’s face and then plunges the room into darkness. She twists her fingers and tries to find the right words.
“It’s yours. I swear,” she whispers.
Some of the tension seems to go out of Waylen’s body.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how,” she continues.
This is the closest to the truth she can get without explaining about the poison.
“Where’s the proof?” Waylen asks, “How can you prove it’s mine?”
“There are tests once the fetus is more developed,” Leilani replies, “I’ve only ever been with one man: you.”
Though they’ve both calmed down, the room still feels stifling. Leilani doesn’t expect anything to change; she knows it’s far too late to go back and start over with Waylen. Nonetheless, she feels like he deserves the truth, and she wants to tell him as much as she can.
Robert knocks and enters with a white phone. Leilani’s look immediately changes for the worse—she recognizes the phone as the one Andrew gave to her. Waylen studies Leilani’s expression and sighs. He feels like he’s watching Leilani an elaborate story in which she’s both director and actor, and he’s just a hapless extra.
He takes the phone from Robert and checks the texts. He sees Andrew’s name and the promise to send men for Leilani in five days. Waylen sneers self-mockingly. He suddenly understands why Leilani insisted on taking five days to make his gift.
“Are you satisfied you’ve made a fool of me?” he asks, “While you are pushing me to save Gabrielle, you and Andrew had already forged an alliance. Did you think you could play me like some violin?”
Leilani opens her mouth to explain, but Waylen cuts her off, “No more lies.”
Leilani knows Waylen’s trust in her is gone. No matter what she says, it’s too late to regain his confidence. His injured look hurts her like a dagger. She feels like she can’t breathe.
“Why are you so silent?” Waylen asks, “Have you finally run out of lies?”
Leilani stares back at him coldly. She doesn’t know what she should say—no matter what, he’ll assume she’s lying.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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