Page 150 of I Replaced His Husband
The next night, still nothing, and the next…
Finally, on the fourth day, I was almost certain the man would appear. However, I was so exhausted from the tension and the effort to act normally during the day that I fell into a deep slumber.
I woke up late and couldn't check the cameras until the afternoon, when Kay took a nap and Marco was still out.
With trembling hands, I went over the recordings and froze.
The man entered the house around 3:30 am, the time when people are in their deepest sleep. He headed straight upstairs without any hesitation, slowing down only when he reached thedoor, then opened it very quietly. I knew the hinges were well-oiled and wouldn't creak.
The stranger stepped into the room where Kay, little Ray, and I were sleeping. Slowly, he approached the bed and stood over it.
My heart pounded in my chest as the man hovered over Ray. A lump in my throat grew bigger asunderstandingdawned on me. He leaned over slightly. Although the camera didn't show it clearly, even in night vision mode, it seemed like he gently stroked Ray's head.
After a moment, he stood up, moved to the side of the bed where Kay was sleeping, and also leaned over him. I realized I was clenching my fists so tightly that my nails were digging into my skin. Watching him gaze at Kay filled me with rising anger and sorrow. I already knew.
How could I not have figured it out before?
But the man didn't touch Kay's face. His fingers lightly grazed Kay’s long braid, lying on the pillow next to his head. Then he turned and slowly left the room, closing the door behind him. He went downstairs, and the hallway camera showed him entering Marco's office.
I was on edge, my nerves stretched tight. I was sure he was editing the files, trimming them, and uploading short versions to the main folder. He stayed there nearly fifteen minutes, then left and disappeared into the corner of the garden, where he jumped the fence like it was nothing; he moved with such ease and agility. Whoever he was, he was in excellent shape.
It didn’t seem possible. It was insane.
And yet, the only possible answer was right in front of me the whole time. There could be no doubt who this person was: someone visiting Kay and Ray at night, who knew Adam, who knew the code to Marco's house, who could guess the password,or maybe even had known it from when Marco installed the cameras in his house.
I pressed my hands to my face.
I knew what I had to do.
???
Three days later, I was ready.
At 3:00 am, I got up and left the room while Kay and Ray were soundly sleeping in the bedroom. I hid in the neighboring room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
The man arrived at 3:30 am as expected, quietly entering the room where my loved ones slept, unaware.
But… he immediately backed out!
He must have seen that I wasn't in the bed, and it alarmed him. Maybe he thought I was in the bathroom, about to come out any second? I wasn’t sure, but he left right away and skipped Marco's office. He probably didn't want to take the chance that I'd be in the kitchen for a midnight snack. That kind of encounter wouldn't be… pleasant.
Clearly, he was taking a big risk that no one would check the files for the next 24 hours, perhaps planning to delete them on the second day, hoping it would slip by unnoticed. But I wasn't going to let him go, no way. I followed him as quietly as a ghost. Pun intended.
I knew the route he usually took across the garden, so I went out the window to cut him off. Moving along the line of bushes, I reached the garden corner first and hid in the shadow of the serviceberry shrubs. When he pulled himself up onto the edge of the fence, I jumped out of hiding, grabbed him around the waist, and yanked him off the fence, pushing him to the ground.
He let out an inarticulate sound, a mix of shock, surprise, and desperation.
But if I thought I could hold him down with my weight alone, I was quickly proven wrong. His body seemed as hard as steel. He thrust his hips up, rolling me off him with ease. I tried to hold him, but he jumped to his feet, shoving me away, and quickly climbed over the fence. But I was right behind him. Although I wasn't as physically adept at hand-to-hand fighting as he was, I had one thing I was really good at.
Running was always my forte.
My passion. I'd jogged my whole adult life and sprinted a lot in college.
So I successfully chased after him, and since I was taller with longer legs, I caught up with him again in the open field. There was no forest, just small groves on the gentle slope leading toward the seashore, nowhere for him to hide.
I grabbed him again, but his training showed. He twisted my hand in a clever move and pushed me away, running off once more. Oh no, I didn't give up. Knowing he wouldn't want to really hurt me gave me more confidence. Eventually, this game of chase and shove wore me out.
"Stop running, Maurice!" I yelled after the sixth time he shoved me off. We were already at least half a mile from the house.
