Page 40 of Lover
Though I vocally hurried her along, I couldn’t help but delay our going several times, embracing her again, soaking in these bright moments of her joy. I hoped they would be enough to carry her through the trials to come.
“You are my blessing,” I murmured against her mouth. “Who knows, perhaps there’s some magic in this place after all.”
“If there isn’t now, there will be,” she said, glowing with all her hopes.
My heart twisted, but I smiled still. Millie had said yes. She had chosen to cast her lot with me again.
Once we arrived back at the house, we proceeded in the same direction arm in arm until we reached the hallway that led to her room.
“Go on.” I nudged her. “Pack a bag. You don’t need much. Hurry, we want to beat the rain.”
I kissed her once, then pulled her back to me again as she started away.
“We’ll grow old here at this rate,” she laughed, then kissed me several more times in quick succession before being on her way.
I watched her for a moment before carrying on with my own preparations.
I went first to the library to unearth our marriage license and her death certificate. My plan was to use both as evidence to prove the truth behind all the outrageous things I was going to reveal. As I headed back to the bedroom, I realized that I didn’t have Millie’s wedding band, the partner to the engagement ring I’d given her. It was still sitting in the jewelry box on her nightstand in the tower. I would need to retrieve it.
While making my way toward the tower stairwell, a peculiar feeling stirred in me, causing me to slow my step. It was the sensation of small pins lightly tapping on the top of my spine. I turned, looking behind me into the growing gloom. The lack of electric or gas lamps turned the hallway murky in the meager storm-ridden light from the distant windows. There was a shuffling, something moving in the walls, the soft thumping of steps. It took me far too much time to realize that the sounds were not in the hallway at all, but coming from the room above my head. Our room.
My stomach turned upside down. I tried to assure myself it was nothing to worry about. Dr. Hannigan had likely informed Ms. Dillard of my intentions. The woman was upstairs, trying to help by gathering necessities she’d naturally assume I would overlook. Even as I tried to soothe myself with this scenario, I took up a jog, then dashed up the stairs.
To my horror, the bedroom door stood open, and there was a voice, soft and urgent. A woman’s voice. Felicity. I advanced quietly, just as she said, “Millie, you have to leave now before it’s too late.”
I stepped over the threshold.
Millie stood by our bed, her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. The dresser drawers and closet were open, as was the jewelry box at the bedside table.
When Felicity saw me, her face drained of color, her mouth falling open, wordless. A crippling combination of hurt, anger, and fear overwhelmed me. How could she do something so careless?
“What are you doing in here?” I barked at her, a question far more broad than it sounded. “This room was locked. What the hell are you doing here?”
Why have you done this to me? To Millie.
I tried to read the answer in her eyes, but there was only gathering sorrow. She took a step away.
“I…” she began, but Millie rushed to her aid, placing herself between us. She glared at me as though she’d be glad to see me swinging from a rope. Before I could say any other word, she swiped a perfume bottle from the dresser and hurled it at me. Forced to react, I caught the thing as it careened toward the bridge of my nose, then threw it to the floor, where it shattered.
“This is what the clothes were for, the gifts,” she seethed. “All of the things that used to be hersfor me.”
It took me a moment to catch up, my understanding hampered by the pounding of my pulse in my ears.
“Millie,” I attempted, schooling my voice back into something less terrifying. I didn’t know what story she’d decided to believe, but I was clearly its villain.
“No,” she spat. “I will not be the empty shell that your wife’s ghost fills.”
Dear God. She thought I meant to make her my dead wife’s replacement.
With a strength I didn’t know she possessed, she seized the brass table lamp and hurled it in my direction. My only option was to dodge the projectile, giving her ample time to flee from the room. Like ethanol exposed to a flame, fear exploded through my limbs, carrying me forward after her.
I knew only that I couldn’t let her out of my sight or out of my reach. She would disappear forever. She would find the ravine.
“Millie!” I cried after her, sounding crazed even to my own ears, but I couldn’t stop. I had to ensure that she remained inside the house. Needed her to listen to Dr. Hannigan, Ms. Dillard, see the certificates.
If only she would stop running.
I was frenzied, overcome with desperation as I finally caught up to her, only to have her barricade herself in a room and lock the door.
