Kill the Mistress, Not My Problem! - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
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I frowned. "What are you talking about?"
After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally laid it all out.
Emma White wasn't dead. That hit me like a punch to the gut. She'd stormed off in a rage, gotten into an accident, and Old Mr. Carter—knowing I was pregnant and wanting Ryan and me to have a shot at happiness—had declared her dead. He'd stashed her away somewhere, hoping Ryan would move on. But his grandson's obsession ran so deep that he'd actually dug up her grave in the dead of night. Mrs. Carter couldn't take seeing her son unravel like that, so she caved.
Now, they'd brought Emma back.
Patrick let out a heavy sigh, still pushing. "Grace, divorce doesn't have to be the answer. I can tell he still cares about you."
"Now that everything's out in the open, just have the baby. Between your family and the Carters keeping watch, Emma won't be able to touch you."
"And then what?" I crushed my cigarette, voice steady, already seeing the trap.
He faltered, thrown by my cold detachment, and clamped his mouth shut. I didn't wait for him to recover.
"Am I supposed to go back to playing the long-suffering wife, watching Emma pop up whenever she pleases while they keep chasing each other in circles?"
"Am I supposed to bring a child into this mess just to watch us both drown in it?"
"What happens when Emma gets bored and pulls another vanishing act? Do my kid and I have to die for her next performance?"
The absurdity of it all hit me like a slap. I remembered—just weeks ago—his hands around my throat, snarling that my child was a bastard. And then, like some twisted punchline, he'd gone digging for Emma's bones in the middle of the night.
He'd knelt at Old Mr. Carter's feet, begging for scraps of information about her, taking thirty lashes like some martyr—only to come back and shove me straight into the fire.
We grew up together. I know exactly how broken Ryan Carter is at his core.
The cruelest joke? He found out where Emma was later—and still refused to set me free.
All these years tangled up in this mess… was it that he never loved me at all? Or just that he stopped somewhere along the way?
After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally laid it all out.
Emma White wasn't dead. That hit me like a punch to the gut. She'd stormed off in a rage, gotten into an accident, and Old Mr. Carter—knowing I was pregnant and wanting Ryan and me to have a shot at happiness—had declared her dead. He'd stashed her away somewhere, hoping Ryan would move on. But his grandson's obsession ran so deep that he'd actually dug up her grave in the dead of night. Mrs. Carter couldn't take seeing her son unravel like that, so she caved.
Now, they'd brought Emma back.
Patrick let out a heavy sigh, still pushing. "Grace, divorce doesn't have to be the answer. I can tell he still cares about you."
"Now that everything's out in the open, just have the baby. Between your family and the Carters keeping watch, Emma won't be able to touch you."
"And then what?" I crushed my cigarette, voice steady, already seeing the trap.
He faltered, thrown by my cold detachment, and clamped his mouth shut. I didn't wait for him to recover.
"Am I supposed to go back to playing the long-suffering wife, watching Emma pop up whenever she pleases while they keep chasing each other in circles?"
"Am I supposed to bring a child into this mess just to watch us both drown in it?"
"What happens when Emma gets bored and pulls another vanishing act? Do my kid and I have to die for her next performance?"
The absurdity of it all hit me like a slap. I remembered—just weeks ago—his hands around my throat, snarling that my child was a bastard. And then, like some twisted punchline, he'd gone digging for Emma's bones in the middle of the night.
He'd knelt at Old Mr. Carter's feet, begging for scraps of information about her, taking thirty lashes like some martyr—only to come back and shove me straight into the fire.
We grew up together. I know exactly how broken Ryan Carter is at his core.
The cruelest joke? He found out where Emma was later—and still refused to set me free.
All these years tangled up in this mess… was it that he never loved me at all? Or just that he stopped somewhere along the way?
End of Kill the Mistress, Not My Problem! Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to Kill the Mistress, Not My Problem! book page.