Chapter 38
Abigail
“Conrad Edward Remington!”
+25 BONUS
Marceline’s sharp voice cut through the tension between me and Conrad, surprising the both of us. I turned towards the doorway of the study where she stood, her sharp eyes fixed on her son. Her usually elegant and serene demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of sheer outrage.
Conrad stiffened, his face flushing red as his mother stepped into the study.
“How dare you speak to your wife that way?” Marceline demanded, her voice laced with both reprimand and disappointment. “I did not raise you to be a man who throws such cruel words at the woman he vowed to protect.”
For a moment, Conrad looked like a child caught stealing cookies from the jar, his mouth opening and closing without a word. I stood frozen, caught between shock at her intervention and relief that someone had come to my defense.
“Mother, this is none of your business,” he finally managed to say, though his voice lacked its usual authority.
Marceline’s sharp laugh filled the room, and she took another step forward, her heels clicking against the polished floor. “None of my business? I think not. When you embarrass yourself like this, Conrad, it most -certainly becomes my business.” Her eyes were full of rebuke as she glared at him. “How could you think any of that was alright to say to Abigail when you know her situation?” Conrad didn’t say a word as Marceline’s words gained more heat, “Her mother is so sick in bed, unable to move, and her brother doesn’t know where his school funds will come from and all you, as her husband, can do is make threats?”
Her gaze shifted to me, and her expression softened instantly. Reaching for my hands, she held them firmly in her own. Her small hands were warm.
“Abigail, darling,” she said, her voice gentle now. “Do not listen to this nonsense. I don’t know what possessed Conrad to speak like a common thug, but I assure you, we would never dream of asking you for money, no matter what happens.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I struggled to accept her words. I wanted to believe Marceline, but the sting of her son’s words from just seconds ago still lingered, making it difficult.
“Mother,” Conrad began again, his tone growing more irritated, “this matter is between Abigail and me. Leave us to talk.”
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Marceline turned on him so quickly that I nearly jumped. “If your idea of ‘talking‘ involves more of the filth that just came out of your mouth,” she said with biting sarcasm, “then I’d rather not leave her alone with you.” Conrad’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Marceline wasn’t finished. “And don’t you dare think of raising your voice at me,” she added, her voice low and dangerous now.““Are you considering how to threaten me next? Go on, Conrad, I’d love to see you try.”
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His mouth snapped shut, his expression caught somewhere between indignation and defeat. For a moment, I thought he might argue further, but with a sharp exhale, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the study, slamming the door behind him.
The sound reverberated through the room, and I let out a shaky sigh, the tension leaving my body in waves. My hands trembled slightly in Marceline’s grasp, but she held them tightly.
“Come, dear,” she said softly, leading me towards the sofa under the wide window. She gestured for me to sit, and when I did, she perched beside me, her hands still clasping mine.
Chapter 30
For a long moment, she simply studied me, her brow furrowed with concern. “Don’t put too much thought into what Conrad said,” she finally said, her tone soothing “He a fool, but he’s my son, and I know him. He only said those awful things because he doesn’t want you to leave.”
1 scoffed, the bitterness in my chest bubbling to the surface “If that’s how he tries to make me stay, about it the wrong way.”
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Marceline smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Men like Conrad don’t always know how to handle their emotions, especially when they feel they’re losing control. He’s desperate, Abigail. That’s why he lashed out.”
I shook my head, my throat tightening as the weight of the situation settled over me once more. “Desperation doesn’t excuse cruelty,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
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“No, it doesn’t,” Marceline agreed, her tone firm. “And I’ll brushing a strand of hair from my face like a mother would
make sure he understands that.” She reached out,
child. “But he loves you, Abigail. And I’m certain you love him too. What’s all this talk about divorce? I thought when you came home with Conrad…”
I shook my head softly. “There are some differences between us that can’t be solved, Mother. I’ve tried fighting for us, but I can’t be the only one fighting all the time.”
Marceline’s fingers tightened around mine. “Abigail,” she said, her tone filled with a quiet plea, “I know you’re hurting. I know Conrad has done things–said things–that are unforgivable. But, my dear, divorce is a step you can never take back.”
Theld her gaze, my throat tightening as frustration started swelling in me. “Mother,” I said as gently as I could,” this isn’t a spur–of–the–moment decision. My mind is made up.”
She sighed, her expression tinged with sorrow. “And I believe you, Abigail. But even the strongest decisions deserve time to breathe. Both you and Conrad need to cool off, to think things through with clearer minds.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up a hand, stopping me.
“Please,” she said. “Don’t mistake me–I’m not asking you to change your mind. I just…” She looked away, taking a deep breath before meeting my gaze again. “I just want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons. That it’s not just anger or hurt speaking for you.”
“It’s not,” I replied firmly. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, Mother. There’s nothing left between Conrad and me. I’m not staying in a marriage where I feel like I’m fighting alone.”
“I’m not asking you to hold onto false hope,” she said quickly. “I only ask that you wait until everything has settled with… with the kidnapping.”
“Marceline,” I began, trying to keep my tone gentle, “I don’t want to give you hope for something that isn’t going to happen. My decision isn’t going to change, no matter how much time passes.
Her grip on my hands tightened. “And I’m not asking for hope, Abigail. I just want you to be safe. That’s all I care about right now–your safety. Once this mess is resolved, once I know the danger has passed, you can decide whatever you want, and I’ll respect it. But until then, please, stay here. Stay under this roof.”
Her words cut through me. She wasn’t asking for herself or for Conrad–she was asking for me. I pressed my lips together, silently at war with myself.
“Fine,” I said at last. “I’ll stay. But only until things settle, once this is over, I’m leaving.”
Relief washed over her face but I couldn’t say I felt the same as she pulled me into a sudden hug.
