Chapter Twenty-Seven

Present

I t’s been three days since Damian left for Dubai. Two days since I began volunteering at the community center. And in those two days, I’ve found I no longer need sleeping pills.

I have struggled with insomnia. And it is directly linked to Damian.

It all began in the early days of our marriage. The times when his business trips turned our bed into a cold, empty space. I was already grieving the loss of my relationship with my father. I remember being so scared and so alone. And Damian wasn’t there either.

When I needed him the most, he just wasn’t there. The mansion, the place I once called my safe haven turned into a haunted house. The silence felt louder, and the ache of missing him echoed in every tick of the clock.

Each night without him was a struggle, and sleep slipped away like a fleeting promise.

The longer he stayed away, the more desperate I became. I counted the hours until his return, craving the warmth of his body to fill the emptiness. Because he wasn’t just the cause of my restless nights; he was also the cure.

The moment I had him back, I slept like a baby. His heartbeat was my lullaby. It was in his arms that my mind used to effortlessly fall into a soothing silence. The constant riot of thoughts didn’t pester me when he was with me. But then before I could settle, he used to leave again. And the cycle continued. That’s how I began relying on sleeping pills.

But I noticed something different this time around.

When he left unannounced three days ago, fear gripped me because I knew sleep would turn its back on me again.

Yet, to my astonishment, it wasn’t the case. The history didn’t repeat itself because sleep, rather than snubbing me, embraced me in its comforting arms.

This was possible because of my newfound solace. Volunteering at the community center. Engaging in this purposeful work gave my restless mind something to hold onto, a distraction from the chaos that used to torment me during the lonely nights.

Damian’s back to his old ways, completely ignoring me. He hasn’t bothered calling once. I know he’s getting all the updates he needs through Vicky. It’s clear he doesn’t feel the need to reach out when he has everything he wants to know without doing so.

In the past, his silence would have torn through the fragile walls of my confidence. Each moment without his call would have been a stab, a confirmation of my fears that I was slipping away from his thoughts.

The absence of his words would have echoed louder than any spoken reassurance, leaving me drowning in self-doubt yet again.

It still hurts. I won’t lie. I’m not equipped with a reset button for emotions to just up and erase all the feelings with a single click and move on. It hurts and it will continue to hurt for a while. But because I have something new to focus on, his neglect doesn’t carry the same weight.

The indifference that once shook the foundation of my self-worth, now only managed to hurt me to a degree that I was able to handle.

Slowly, I am trying to make myself believe that his lack of communication doesn’t define my value. It will take a lot of work, and right now all I have is time. So I am willing to work on it.

“Mrs. Montgomery.” Vicky calls out from the bedroom’s doorway.

As I turn to her, I’m taken aback. Vicky doesn’t look like Vicky-the-bodyguard. She looks… rather cute and soft in a comfy pair of jeans, a loose-fitting T-shirt, and a denim jacket. The change in her outfit gives her an entirely different, more easygoing appearance. Even her usual slicked back hair is now falling over her forehead and grazing her jawline. My face breaks into a wide smile as I approach her. “Oh my God, Vicky! You look absolutely lovely!”

She tucks a strand behind her ear and responds with a small smile. “Thank you. I just wanted to blend in with everyone. I felt like a sore thumb in a suit. I hope this is okay.”

“Of course it is!” I reassure her, noticing the worry in her eyes.

She bites her lip. “You wouldn’t tell the boss, right?”

“No way! I’m not a snitch. Besides, I’m thrilled you’re not blending in with the uniformed clones who work for my husband.”

Vicky’s shoulders visibly relax, and a relieved smile graces her lips. “Thank you. I was worried about standing out too much. I appreciate your understanding.”

I return her relieved smile. “No need to worry at all, Vicky. Embrace the change—it suits you perfectly. I’m all for it.”

Vicky pauses for a beat then says, “You know, you look pretty great yourself. This casual style suits you too. It’s a nice change.”

I glance down at my outfit. I’m wearing a pair of stylish yet comfortable sky-blue high-rise jeans and red turtleneck and beige wool cropped jacket.

On her first day, Vicky caught a glimpse of the elegant yet seemingly reserved version of myself. However, over the past two days, she’s observed a shift.

“Thanks, Vicky. It feels good to break free from the mold.”

She nods wistfully before checking her watch. “Are you ready to head to the community center? We don’t want to be late.”

“I need to make a quick phone call. Wait for me downstairs, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Actually, I can’t leave you alone while you’re on the phone. It’s the boss’s orders,” Vicky says hesitantly, her commitment to her duty evident.

In the mere span of three days, Vicky and I have developed an unexpected closeness. It’s surprising how quickly we’ve connected. But every time she complies with Damian’s commands, I feel a sharp pang. It reminds me of the lines that can’t be crossed, the roles we’re each trapped in.

“All right, I understand,” I say, masking any trace of disappointment. “You can stay.”

I turn away and dial my best friend. She picks up on the second ring.

“River! How are you? Where are you?” Summer’s voice bursts through the line, laced with a deep concern that borders on hysteria. “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning. Something’s up, isn’t it? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m here at home. Sorry, my phone was dead. I just needed to hear your voice.” I try to sound calm despite the deep longing to hug my friend. “Can you talk for a bit?”

“Of course, I’m here for you, River! What happened? You sound upset. Spill the details, and don’t leave anything out,” Summer says, her tone rising with genuine concern.

“Everything’s okay, really. I just missed you and wanted to catch up,” I assure her with a forced lightness in my tone. “I knew you’d be worried if I didn’t call. So, what’s new with you?”

“We might not have known each other long, but I can sense when something’s not right. You don’t have to pretend with me. What’s going on?”

When I hesitate, she adds, “Is this about your brute of a husband?”

“No, Summer, it’s not about him.” I speak fast. Then sigh. Nothing escapes this girl. “I know you’re worried but seriously, everything is fine. I just needed to hear your voice. Let’s catch up, okay?”

“All right,” she finally relents, grumbling but not before saying, “It’s a good thing I didn’t get a clear look at your husband at the new year’s party. Those colored glasses and booze saved him from a piece of my mind. Otherwise, I would’ve tracked down his schedule and popped up in unexpected places to ‘accidentally’ trip him down a flight of stairs. You know, just a little message to remind him to treat you right.”

I burst into laughter. “Summer, you’re one of a kind. I can always count on you for some creative, albeit dangerous, problem-solving. Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

Thankfully, we drive away from the dangerous topic of my relationship with my husband. We spend good ten minutes talking and laughing about random stuff. I can’t help but appreciate how Summer’s energy lifts my spirits.

On the day fate seemingly stole away my happiness on my wedding anniversary, it bestowed upon me a different kind of gift—Summer. She became the unexpected light in the midst of dark clouds, a friend who walked into my life when I needed support the most.

We were talking about Goldie when she begins asking about my next visit. I don’t give her a clear answer, just try to calm her down by promising I’ll visit soon. Of course, it backfires.

“Give me a date, River. Give me something!” she practically yells at me through the phone. I steal a glance at Vicky and find her face blank. But I know even she heard that.

Now, how do I tell Summer that by not meeting her, I’m protecting her. How do I tell her that avoiding her is the only way to keep her safe from the complications in my life? How do I explain that even though I yearn to see her as much as she does me, I can’t risk Damian using her against me.

“I can’t. But I will come to visit soon. I promise.”

“Is he… hurting you?” she asks, her tone filled with dread and protectiveness.

“No!” This time it’s me shouting. Then a sigh leaves me. “My husband is ruthless. He wouldn’t bat an eye before destroying someone’s life. He hurts me emotionally? Yes. But he’s never hurt me physically. Ever.”

It’s the absolute truth. Damian might have inflicted emotional wounds, a relentless assault on my spirit, but never has he laid a finger on me.

The conviction in my voice finally helped her relax. We continue chatting for few more minutes before ending the call on a rather happy note.

Vicky didn’t comment on that and silently led me to the car. Once inside, I can’t help asking, “Will you inform Damian about the phone call?”

Her hesitation speaks volumes and I sigh.

Vicky meets my gaze, her tone carefully measured. “River, I’ll inform Damian about the call, as I must. But don’t worry, I won’t disclose the details of your conversation.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Why?”

Summer was so loud that I’m sure Vicky heard what she thinks of my husband. Even from just listening to my side of the conversation, Vicky must have concluded that Summer was pushing me for answers regarding Damian. And that is something that Damian would want to know. And that would’ve landed Summer in trouble. So it’s really shocking that Vicky is willing to keep it to herself. After all, isn’t she his employee?

Vicky stares ahead as she pulls out of the driveway. “Because this doesn’t concern your safety. It was a harmless phone call to a friend.”

I furrow my brow. “But, doesn’t Damian order you to report everything to him?”

“Yes, he does,” Vicky admits. “But not every detail needs to reach his ears, especially when it’s not about preserving your well-being.”

My mouth opens and closes a few times, no words come to mind.

“Damian’s not my top priority, River.” She turns to look at me. “You are. When I started this job, I thought I’d be dealing with another wealthy wife, someone spoiled, needing protection from her own vices. But then I met you. You’re nothing like what I expected. I’ve seen the restrictions you live with, that’s when my loyalty shifted.” Genuine admiration for me is evident in her eyes.

“B-but how can you be so sure that I’m genuine? That I don’t deserve all these restrictions Damian has imposed on me?”

“Because I saw the haunting pain in your eyes.”

“I’ve been told I have sad eyes.”

She shakes her head. “I can tell the difference.” Then she shocks me into silence again when she says, “because I see something similar in the mirror every day.”

Then she continues speaking as if she hadn’t just revealed something profound.

“I had my speculations about why Damian wanted you guarded 24/7. I thought it was yet another tired husband being suspicious about her wife’s… activities behind his back. But, as I got to know you, the idea of him doubting your fidelity just didn’t add up,” Vicky explains, “I may not know why Damian wants you guarded around the clock, but I do know this—I’m here to protect you. Not just out of obligation, but because you’ve got an ally in me,” she says, a glint of support in her eyes.

Her words hit me with such force that tears pool in my eyes. “Thank you, Vicky,” I manage to choke out. “For believing in me, for seeing beyond the surface. It means more than words can say.”

Vicky tentatively covers my hand, and it’s then that I become aware of the tears streaming down my face. She slowly pats my hand and offers a small, awkward smile. “Apologies if I’m terrible at this comforting thing. But hey,” she says as we stop at the red light and then extends her hand, “tissues are on me, all right?”

Her attempt at humor is funnier than the joke. I chuckle through my tears. “Thanks,” I reply, thanking her for everything.

◆◆◆

Patricia, a sweet woman in her mid-forties, smiles brightly as she sees us enter. She waves us over. “Well, look who it is! Our favorite duo has arrived.”

Blushing, I walk over to the front desk. “Hi, Patricia,” Vicky nods awkwardly in greeting, mirroring my own flustered state. Then we lift the coffee cups carrier we’ve been carrying higher.

Right after our heart to heart in the car, we decided to grab some coffees for everyone on our way to the community center.

“We thought we’d bring c-coffees… for you guys.” I awkwardly mumble.

Patricia’s eyes light up with surprise and gratitude. “That’s a delightful surprise! Thank you, dear,” she says, accepting her cup with a soft smile.

As we stand there, a couple of volunteers notice our arrival. With friendly smiles, they approach us, “Coffee? You’re my hero, River!”

The girl with blonde hair grins. “I needed this. Thanks!”

“It’s not every day we get such thoughtful volunteers. Let’s share these with everyone, shall we?” Patricia says and the two newcomers happily take over the task of distributing the coffees.

After a moment, Laura descends from the stairs and makes a beeline for us. “River! Vicky!”

“You know, your energy has really lifted the spirits around here these past couple of days,” Laura says as she is handed a coffee cup.

I share a smile with Vicky before saying, “That means a lot, Laura. I really believe in the work you’re doing here, and I’m happy to contribute in any way I can.”

She takes a sip. “Well, we’ve certainly noticed your dedication. You’ve been a breath of fresh air. And Vicky, too! It’s not every day we get a bodyguard volunteering with us.”

Vicky tucks a strand behind her ear. “Just doing my part.”

Laura pats her hand, smiling. “Well, we appreciate it. Now, have you both had a chance to try the cookies? Erin made them today, and they’re heavenly.”

Erin, a woman in her sixties with delicate features and silver hair, handles the administrative duties for the community center. She is also a legendary baker around here.

“I’ve heard a lot about her cookies, but haven’t had the chance to taste them myself.” We didn’t get to eat them because every time she bakes, those cookies disappear faster than you can blink.

“Let’s remedy that.” With Laura leading the way, we navigate through the lively hall. Erin notices us, her face lighting up.

When Laura asks for the cookies, her face drops. No surprise, luck wasn’t on our side today either. She looks pretty bummed that we missed out on tasting them, and it takes us a good ten minutes of reassuring her to cheer her up.

The morning ticks with me and Vicky engrossed in duties. First, we begin by moving the art supplies, canvases and easels from the storage room to the hall.

Then we went to the second floor and helped with the banners and posters for the upcoming event. After working there for a couple of hours, we were back on the first floor to clean up after the art session.

“I have to make a phone call.” Vicky sighs after reading the message she received.

“Damian?”

She shakes her head. “Chief.”

Hal. Okay. “Why the sigh? Hal is a lot easier to deal with than my husband.”

At least Hal responds when someone speaks to him. Damian sticks to grunting unless he wants to reprimand someone.

“It’s the other way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I talk to Mr. Montgomery, it’s to the point. All the questions are related to you. He doesn’t grill me about unnecessary things.”

Intrigued, I ask, “Unnecessary things?”

She doesn’t say anything as she goes over to the table and grabs two bottles of water. She hands me one.

“Vicky?” I prompt. “Does he bother you that much?”

Clenching her jaw, she says, “Let’s just say I would love it if the roles were reversed for a day.”

My eyes widen. I’ve never seen Vicky so pissed before. Not even when a teen ruined her jeans with water color earlier and refused to apologize.

“What would you do if that happens?”

A dark smile creeps across her face. “Oh, the possibilities are endless. I’ll play his games, only better. To start, I’d call him at three in the fucking morning, just to ruin his precious sleep. Let him feel what it’s like to be interrogated over trivial matters, especially when our line of work demands we wake up at the crack of dawn.”

The sharp, unexpected sound makes me jump. I look down and find her hand is soaked and water is dripping all over her fingers from the bottle that is now crushed.

She blinks then stares down at the floor, horrified. “I’m so sorry. I made a mess.” She looks around and then immediately starts toward the back of the hall. I grab her arm. “Where are you going?”

“To get the mop.”

“I’ll do it.” When she tries to argue, I shake my head. “Call Hal and get it over with. Delaying it will only agitate him.” And judging by Vicky’s reaction, he would take it out on her. I had no idea Hal could be this ruthless.

When Vicky’s shoulders slump in resignation, I give her arm a squeeze. “Go. I’ll clean this up and wait for you in the courtyard.”

The community center courtyard is warm and inviting. The walls are covered in climbing vines and bright flowers. In the center, a marble fountain trickles softly, surrounded by colorful flower beds and cozy seating that make it a perfect spot to unwind. It is maintained well and volunteers often spend their break time there.

“I’ll be outside.”

“All right.”

When she doesn’t leave, I roll my eyes. “Oh, relax! It’s not like I’ll be abducted by aliens in the next five minutes if you step away for that call. I’m not exactly alone in a deserted alley, am I?”

Her lips twitch in amusement. “No, you’re not.”

Smiling, I begin pushing her toward the main door, “Go, make your call, and if little green men show up, I’m sure I can hold my ground until you get back.”

She snorts but leaves nonetheless.

After cleaning up the floor, I make my way to the courtyard and take a seat on the bench.

Staring at the lifelike beautiful female sculpture fountain, I find myself drowning in thoughts, contemplating the simplicity of the tasks I do here.

It’s strange, really. With so much chaos and pressure in my life, I find myself finding peace in the small tasks like mopping the floor or organizing a storage room.

I can’t help but marvel at the novelty of it all. The luxury of doing ordinary things or sit in the open air without a mountain of problems looming overhead.

These simple tasks almost feel like an act of defiance. Damian would lose his mind if he found out his wife was mopping floors. He’d be beyond furious, especially knowing it’s because of the bodyguard he hired. I can’t help but smile. It would be a blow to his ego, seeing his trophy wife brought down to this.

My smile broadens but only a second before it vanishes completely.

If he finds out what I’ve been up to, it’ll be the last time I set foot here. I can’t take that risk. Luckily, Vicky’s got me covered.

“Admiring the fountain, I see.”

I startle, my shoulders tensing at the unexpected remark. Before I can fully process the words, the deep voice continues, “Why the frown, though? Did it forget to dance for you today?”

I turn, catching sight of Matt strolling into the courtyard. He’s wearing striped sweater and jeans, his hair unruly.

I hadn’t caught a glimpse of Matt all morning, and I’d half-assumed he wouldn’t show up today. I was kind of disappointed. It’s silly but true how we get used to certain faces around us. But he is more than just a familiar face. Matt has a unique ability to add liveliness to everything around him.

His energy is infectious. Just like my best friend, Summer. He effortlessly engages with those around him, making them feel seen, important. He can turn the simplest moments into something extraordinary.

Take yesterday for instance, he managed to make Anne smile. That was no small feat considering the teenager is going through a phase where she hates everything and everyone with a passion. Specially her divorced parents who forces her to come here three days a week to channel her anger through art therapy.

So, what did Matt do? He went above and beyond, deciding to throw a birthday party for her at the center. But this wasn’t just any party, mind you. Knowing Anne’s penchant for online games and such, he organized a paintball event. The transformation of the space into a paintball arena was both unexpected and brilliant.

Anne, who usually keeps to herself, couldn’t help but join in. Everyone could see Anne’s joy bubbling over. She was having a blast, splashing colors in every direction. The genuine happiness on her face was undeniable.

In the end, she was so moved that she did something no one expected. She hugged Matt tightly. For a girl who usually keeps her distance, that hug spoke volumes. It was clear that Matt had not only made her day but had also succeeded in creating a wonderful memory she won’t forget.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips.

“Whoa there,” he exclaims as he rushes over, “is that a smile I see?”

I chuckle at his theatrics. His grin widens, and he leans in a bit, his tone conspiratorial, “Seriously though, what did I do to earn such a beautiful smile?”

I feel a blush rising up my cheeks, and I mumble something about yesterday’s paintball party.

He seems genuinely pleased, “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” I respond and he takes a seat beside me. For a minute neither of us speak. And I start feeling uncomfortable. Breaking the awkward silence, I manage to ask, “Um, why weren’t you here this morning?”

His head snaps in my direction, blue eyes locking with mine. “Did you miss me?”

“I... uh, just wondered why you weren’t around.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he remarks, still staring at me.

When I gape at him, horrified, he chuckles. “I’m touched. Maybe I’ll make it a point to be here every morning if it means that much to you.”

“You know I didn’t mean that.” I grumble and he laughs. Then bumps his shoulder with mine. “I was just teasing.”

When I shoot him a droll look, he nudges my shoulder with his again. “Come on, don’t be too hard on me. You love it.”

“Love might be a strong word. Tolerate is more accurate.”

As he continues our banter, he suddenly reaches into his bag, pulling out a small box. “Oh, by the way,” he extends it to me, “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“I noticed you haven’t had the chance to try Erin’s cookies, so I saved some for you.”

When I keep staring at him, speechless, he takes my hands and closes it around the box.

“You... saved c-cookies for me?”

“I dropped by early this morning to collect the brochures and packed some for you. Consider it a peace offering for all the teasing.”

I look down at the box, feeling oddly touched. “Well, I suppose you can be forgiven this time.” I smile at him.

He chuckles. “See, I knew you’d come around. Now, enjoy the cookies. They’re almost as sweet as your smiles.”

When I narrow my eyes, he raises his palms in surrender. Then urges me to taste it, I tell him that I will share them with Vicky to which he stares at me for a beat then shakes his head smiling. “You are an angel, aren’t you?”

The endearment wipes the smile off my face. “Please don’t call me that.”

“What? Angel? Why not?”

Because it reminds me of my husband .

I’m saved by Vicky’s presence. This is how it always is. Even in his absence, subtle reminders of him persistently find their way to haunt me.