Chapter 3

Elaine decided to purge the house of her belongings, boxing up anything that was truly hers. As she sorted through her possessions, she realized just how much of her life had revolved around Alistair. The silver button from his Yale blazer she'd secretly saved. The leather-bound journal he'd bought for her birthday. A whole album of photographs she'd taken of him when he wasn't looking. She opened the album, her fingers tracing the images. The first photo showed him as a college sophomore, captured mid-jump shot during the basketball game. She's a member of the school photography team, this particular the one that perfectly captured his intensity and grace, she kept it for herself. The remaining pages contained stolen moments, Alistair asleep, Alistair accepting his MBA with that confident half-smile. And even... Alistair with Sophia, laughing by the fountain outside the Morgan Library. How pathetically devoted must she have been to treasure even photos of him loving someone else? Elaine closed the album with a decisive snap and buried it at the bottom of the box before continuing her inventory. During their three years of marriage, Alistair had given her countless gifts-all expensive jewelry in the same predictable style. Expensive, exquisite, and emotionless, all purchased by his assistant. She'd kept them pristine in their blue boxes. Now she wouldn't need them anymore. When she finished sorting, all that remained of her presence in the house were the furnishings. This villa had been their marital home. From the day they'd moved in, she'd been waiting, hoping for Alistair to finally let go of Sophia and let her stand right in front of him. But on their wedding night, with just a few cold sentences, he'd made it clear that would never happen. Still, she'd persisted, deliberately weaving herself into the fabric of his life, hoping he'd grow accustomed to her presence, perhaps even dependent on it. What a naive delusion that had been! Alistair noticed the change as soon as he returned that evening. "Did you get rid of things? Why does everything look so empty?" he asked, brow furrowed. "Yes," Elaine replied with nonchalance. "Everything was outdated, and since you've brought someone new into the house, the old furnishings are inappropriate." Hearing this, Alistair nodded in agreement. "You're right—it has been a while. Vivian's pregnant, we'll need a nursery. | will invite the interior designers to redo the entire place." She froze momentarily, then lowered her head without further comment. Alistair moved with efficiency. In just 24 hours, the house was transformed beyond recognition. Elaine watched as every trace of her existence was systematically erased, and strangely, she felt a creeping sense of liberation. Soon, not only would there be no evidence she had ever lived here-she herself would be gone. "So, how's it feel watching yourself get erased?" Vivian taunted, her lip curling into a smirk. "I'm the one who belongs here now. Give it a few weeks, and you'll be nothing but that woman Alistair used to be married to." Hearing the smug voice behind her, Elaine turned to find Vivian leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her baby bump, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. Weirdly, instead of the anger that should have surged through her, Elaine wanted to laugh in the woman's perfectly made-up face. Poor clueless Vivian had no idea she resembled Sophia in Alistair's twisted fantasy. That was the only reason he'd let her keep the baby was to have a mini-Sophia running around the house. That, in Alistair's screwed-up mind, no living woman could compete with the ghost he'd put on a pedestal. Elaine almost felt sorry for her. Whatever. She turned to leave, but Vivian grabbed her arm. "You know what's pathetic on you?" Vivian sneered, her voice dripping venom. "How long have you been Mrs. Chase? Still not having even a single child, huh? Talk about failing at the one thing you're supposed to do." She patted her own belly. "Lucky for Alistair, I'm here to pick up your slack. If you had an ounce of self-respect, you'd sign those divorce papers and disappear before he has to watch you embarrass yourself anymore." Elaine froze as the brutal words hit her. After a moment's shock, she almost had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She locked eyes with Vivian, all fake politeness vanishing in an instant. It's whoo is his legal wife!" she snapped. "The shameless ppersonIt's obviously you! " Vivian's face turned blotchy with rage as she pointed a shaking finger at Elaine, too furious to form words. Then, before Elaine could process what was happening, the woman hauled off and slapped herself across the face. Tears sprang from Vivian's eyes as she cradled her reddening cheek. Elaine was still trying to make sense of this bizarre theater when she heard footsteps racing toward them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Alistair roared, appearing out of nowhere. The words had barely left his mouth when a violent force slammed into her. Alistair lunged forward and shoved her hard. She stumbled backward. Right behind her was the staircase! "No!" she yelled out. Her hand shot out desperately, grasping at nothing, and she collapsed and hit the floor straight. A searing pain shot through her body. Within seconds, her vision blurred, unconscious.