Page 22 of A Lie in Church

“Thanks, Vina. I feel better now. It means the world to me that someone believes me.”

“Always. I will believe you, even when I’m old and suffering from Alzheimer’s. No one’s going to change that. I was so worried about you after I saw the news. I will call you later. My mom is back from the store, and I’m supposed to be making lasagna,” she said quickly.

“Okay,” I sighed in a low tone.

The rest of the ride was silent, and I almost fell asleep. I didn’t know when we arrived until Morris came to open the door for me. I got out, looking at the luxurious three-story glass house, trying not to gape at the building as we went inside.

Everything inside looked expensive and well-furnished. I could see my reflection on the sparkling floor. There was a patio between the dining area and a large door leading outside, an exquisite interior that one could stare at for hours. I was in a bad mood, so I didn’t bother looking around. I took a seat and stared at the large screen TV. I still felt so much rage. It was a wave of intense anger that channeled all my emotions and darkness, desperately in need of release.

This is not the package I asked for when I wished to move out. There is a difference, Fairy Godmother.

I felt so broken. All it had taken was a lie for my life to take another turn. For everything in my past I’d desperately kept hidden to come to light.

Why did Grey judge me on what happened in my past? He knows very well I’m done with that part of my life. Is it possible I got too drunk and forgot any details about meeting Tristan Sanchester? I have been sober for three years, and I have stayed celibate. There is no way I slept with him without having any memory of it.

I took off my shoes and leaned back on the seat. My legs felt numb, and breathing became exhausting. I felt detached from my body as I stared into space.

Am I really pregnant? I need to go to the hospital.

“Your suitcases are in your room. Would you like something to drink?” Morris appeared at my side.

“I’m not here to stay. Where is he?”

“He’s out with a friend.”

So, he was hanging out with his friend while I suffered from his lies.

“Morris,” I called, sitting up on the plush leather couch.

“Yes, Miss Simpson?”

“Please call me Chloe.”

“I don’t think I can do that, miss.”

I didn’t have time to argue.

“What does your boss treasure most in this house?”

“The paintings on each wall. They’re very expensive, and they mean a lot to him. And his achievements, like awards from around the world.” He sounded proud of his boss as he spoke while I just smiled in my head.

“Could you bring them all here?” I could keep myself entertained before he returned.

“Sorry?”

“I want all the paintings and awards. Now, please.”

He hesitated but walked away quickly after I stabbed my menacing eyes into his.

“You messed with the things I treasured most, and I will mess with yours.” I knew I couldn’t compare both, but I needed to cool off. Smashing those paintings and awards seemed like a good solution.

I stood up when he was done gathering everything. I stretched my arms and flexed my neck, preparing my muscles for the activity. I smashed each painting to pieces, screaming my rage out. I crashed the awards on the glass table, breaking it in the process. I broke more things as I recalled what had happened in the church and at home. I grabbed one of the glass shards from the center table I’d broken and waited for Tristan.

The place was a mess when I was done, and I was panting heavily from the work. I slumped on the couch and looked at Morris. He seemed horrified with his jaw dropped and eyes rounded. He reached for his phone and made a call.

That’s right, Morris. Make the damn call.

CHAPTER6