Chapter 3 - David's Return and the Wall of Denial
Evelyn did not flinch when I mentioned the recording,
but the small twitch near her left eye betrayed her sudden tension.
She slowly set her coffee cup down into its saucer,
the ceramic clinking softly in the quiet dining room.
“You are playing a very dangerous game,
Rebecca,
” Evelyn warned,
her voice dropping an octave into a chilling hiss.
“You think a simple audio clip protects you from the reality of who we are?”
“It protects me enough to ensure Arthur thinks twice before trying to slip sedatives into my drink again,
” I replied,
maintaining unbroken eye contact.
Before Evelyn could formulate a response,
the front doors swung open with a heavy thud.
Footsteps echoed across the marble foyer,
and a moment later,
David walked into the dining room.
He looked exhausted,
carrying his travel garment bag over one shoulder and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Honey,
I’m back early,
” David announced,
tossing his keys onto the side console.
“Flight from Chicago was expedited,
and I missed you guys.
”
He walked over,
intending to kiss my cheek,
but I leaned back slightly,
avoiding his embrace.
David blinked in surprise,
looking between his mother,
Arthur—who had just entered the room from the rear corridor—and me.
“Whoa,
what’s going on here?” David asked,
sensing the thick,
palpable tension in the air.
“Why does everyone look like they’re attending a funeral?”
“Ask your father,
David,
” I said quietly,
pointing a finger toward Arthur.
“Ask him what happened in my bedroom while you were away in Chicago.
”
Arthur immediately adopted an expression of hurt,
fatherly disappointment.
“David,
son,
your wife is unfortunately experiencing another one of her episodes,
” Arthur sighed,
shaking his head with theatrical sorrow.
“She claims I came into her room with malicious intent.
It’s utterly baseless,
David.
You know how imaginative she can be when you’re out of town.
”
David turned to look at me,
his expression shifting from confusion to annoyance.
“Rebecca,
seriously?” David sighed heavily,
dropping his garment bag onto the floor with a thud.
“Not this again.
You promised me you were working on your anxiety.
”
“It’s not anxiety,
David!” I snapped,
my temper finally flaring up.
“Your father tried to drug me last night.
He brought me a glass of orange juice laced with white powder.
I gave it to Chloe instead,
she passed out cold,
and Arthur came into my room believing I was the one unconscious.
I recorded his confession!”
I slammed my phone down on the table,
pushing it toward him.
“Listen to it,
David!
Play the audio right now!”
David stared at the phone for a long,
agonizing moment,
but he made no move to pick it up.
Instead,
he ran a hand through his hair,
looking deeply embarrassed and frustrated.
“Rebecca,
stop,
” David whispered harshly.
“Just stop talking like this.
Do you realize how insane that sounds?
My father drugging you?
Chloe drinking it and passing out?
It sounds like a bad soap opera script.
”
“Play the file,
David!” I insisted,
my voice rising in desperation.
“Look at the proof!”
Evelyn cleared her throat softly,
speaking with a sickeningly sweet tone of manufactured sympathy.
“David,
darling,
perhaps it’s time to consider professional help for her,
” Evelyn suggested,
leaning forward.
“The isolation of staying here while you travel is clearly breaking her mind.
We only want what’s best for her.
”
David looked at his mother,
then back at me,
his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and resentment.
“Maybe Mom is right,
” David said softly,
stabbing a dagger straight into my heart.
“Maybe you need to take a break,
Rebecca.
Go stay at a hotel for a few days,
clear your head.
This accusation against my father is crossing a line I cannot forgive.
”
May you like
I stared at my husband,
realizing in that exact instant that he was not just blind—he was an active accomplice in their web of denial.
