Chapter 44

-Alison-

Two days of waiting for answers had been an agonizing ordeal, yet I persevered, driven by an insatiable need to unravel the enigma that was Jared. From the moment he sauntered into my office, cloaked in mystery, I knew there were layers to him that begged exploration. With each passing moment, the craving for answers intensified.

I earnestly hoped Jared held the key to unlock the secrets shrouding my father's inexplicable target on his back. Despite my inability to comprehend how my father could ever become a target, a haunting memory lingered—a vivid recollection of my mother storming into my room, clutching a dress marred by a mysterious stain.

Though my father had dismissed it as a few drops of blood, my mother, with her keen eye for detail, knew better. It was this memory that anchored me in patience, preventing the descent into madness as I awaited Jared's revelations.

During these trying days, I maintained a measured distance from Warren, albeit feigning an openness to salvaging our fractured marriage. His contentment with merely sharing a bed and cohabiting the house fostered a glimmer of hope in him, though my own resolve remained uncertain. I had not packed a bag as Jared instructed, my skepticism still holding sway. Yet as I readied myself for my mother's birthday celebration in my closet, I couldn't shake the nagging thought that this might be the last time I was surrounded by such luxury.

"Alison?" Warren's voice interrupted my reverie. He stood in the doorway, adorned in a beautiful light blue suit.

He looked impressive in his attire, flashing me a smile in an effort to embody the man I had pledged my loyalty to. Yet, I found myself unable to discern between genuine sincerity and mere pretense. Jared had turned my life upside down, and I eagerly awaited our encounter at the party, hoping he would come clean about everything. However, I was uncertain about my course of action if his words failed to persuade me. What would unfold in that case? Only time would tell. Nevertheless, the relentless worry had left me physically drained, and I fervently hoped for clarity to emerge soon.

"Hey," I responded, clutching my purse, the azure hue of my dress mirroring the color of my husband's clothes.

"Are you all right?" Warren inquired, noticing my tense stance.

"Just fine," I replied, though his concern lingered in the air.

"Are you sure? You've been very quiet since I came back," he observed, a hint of apprehension in his tone, as if he feared he was the cause.

"No, I'm... Or I'm thinking," I corrected myself.

"Thinking?"

"About how we can best navigate this transition period."

"Any good ideas so far?" he asked.

"Well, you're back and sleeping in the bed, so I think we're doing all right so far," I replied, attempting to ease the tension.

"Yes, I think we are too, but perhaps we could use some outside assistance," he suggested.

"If you're suggesting my mother, it's a hard no," I interjected, eliciting a small chuckle from Warren.

"I meant more like a therapist."

"I didn't think you were open to that," I admitted, surprised by his suggestion.

"If we want a clean slate, we should consider it," he proposed.

"I can consider it," I confirmed, though I withheld any promises until I had my answers from Jared.

"Good, then we should get going, right?" Warren prompted, eager to move forward.

I nodded, taking one last look around, feeling as though I was bidding farewell to a part of myself.

"Alison?" Warren called again, drawing my attention.

I sighed, gathering my resolve. Whatever lay ahead, I would face it head-on. With determination, I nodded and walked over to where Warren stood, accepting his outstretched hand.

"You got my mother's present?" I asked, the tension of the impending family gathering already obvious.

"In the car," Warren replied.

"Good, and stay close. On this day, she's even worse," I warned, a twinge of frustration evident in my voice.

He chuckled softly, nodding in understanding. "Yes, I'm aware."

"But you always leave me," I countered, unable to suppress a hint of bitterness.

"I don't always..." Warren paused, taking a deep breath. "I will remain close."

His restraint surprised me, a small glimmer of hope flickering within me. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that this newfound attitude was too little, too late. Something was poised to change today, and I braced myself for the inevitable shift, uncertain of its implications.

As we stepped outside, Warren locked the door behind us before we made our way to his car, ready for departure. Inside the vehicle, he reached for my hand, offering a silent reassurance amidst the turmoil of my thoughts. My nerves were raw, betraying my composure as I tapped my heel against the car floor.

"Alison?" Warren's voice called for my attention.

"Yeah?" I responded, turning to face him.

"You're tapping," he pointed out gently, and I halted the motion.

"Sorry," I murmured.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I assured him, though uncertainty lingered beneath the surface.

He didn't seem convinced, but once again, he avoided arguing the point, instead refocusing on the road ahead. Pulling up at my parents' imposing mansion, a wave of exhaustion washed over me at the sight. That house held no warmth for me. Every visit felt like a painful reminder of past turmoil.

Today, however, I had a purpose—to finally uncover the truths Jared had long kept hidden. Despite my apprehension, a tiny spark of anticipation flickered within me as we exited the car. Warren draped his arm around my waist, offering silent support as he guided me toward the house.

Inside, we were greeted with drinks, which we politely declined before venturing further. The backyard had been rearranged, reminiscent of my father's recent party, and I scanned the gathering for Jared's familiar figure. Yet, he was nowhere to be seen. I concluded he hadn't arrived yet, silently praying for his imminent appearance.

"There she is," Warren's voice broke through my thoughts, drawing my attention to my mother, who was engaged in a conversation with her friends.

We approached her, offering the obligatory gifts, which she barely acknowledged before placing them among the sea of offerings. It was evident she cared more for the social spectacle than the presents themselves. Anything we could give her, she could easily acquire herself.

Once within her circle, the chatter resumed. Warren fetched himself a drink, leaving me momentarily alone as I continued scanning the crowd with my eyes in search of Jared. Still, there was no sign of him. A slight pinch on my arm brought my attention back to my mother, silently urging me to focus on her party. Reluctantly, I plastered on a smile and engaged in conversation, suppressing my growing impatience.

I hoped Jared would arrive soon, whisking me away from this fa?ade. Minutes ticked by, then hours, and still, there was no sign of him. Glancing at my watch, frustration gnawed at me. Why hadn't he come? He promised he would. Had something disrupted his plans? Unable to wait any longer, I knew I had to call him.

I was on the verge of stepping away when Warren intercepted my movement, his grip firm on my arm.

"What are you doing?" he whispered urgently.

"I... I need to make a call," I stammered.

Warren drew closer, his gaze intense. "We promised a clean slate, Alison," he reminded me. "And they're about to bring out the cake."

I hesitated, torn between my desire to reach out to Jared and Warren's insistence on our renewed commitment. His words carried weight, but they didn't resonate with the same conviction they once did. Jared occupied my thoughts, not Warren.

"Alison, let him be. He's the past. I'm your future," Warren pleaded, sensing my hesitation.

But Warren as my future no longer filled me with certainty. Jared was the enigma I needed to unravel, the key to understanding the chaos that had enveloped my life.

"Warren..." I began, searching for the right words.

"Think really hard about this," he urged, his eyes searching mine.

I sighed, feeling the weight of his plea, but my decision was made. I couldn't ignore the pull toward Jared any longer.

"I'm sorry, Warren. I am," I whispered, pulling away from his grasp.

"Alison!" he called after me, but I pressed on, determined to make the call.

My mother intercepted me, her footsteps echoing on the pavement as she approached.

"Alison!" she hissed.

I turned to face her, sighing deeply. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"I'm just going to make a call," I explained, knowing she understood exactly who I intended to call.

"You have your husband back. If you stay here, eat the cake with us, and show everyone that you two are as strong as ever, everything can return to normal, Alison," she reasoned, her voice tinged with urgency.

"Mom—"

"Alison, don't destroy your life for a man who can never be yours, someone who has always been beneath you."

"Beneath me?" I whispered in disbelief, and she nodded, failing to grasp my perspective.

"Mom, Jared has been the most real person in my life. He never kept secrets from me. He never asked me to be something I wasn't. He never treated me like a mere doll to manipulate."

She stared at me, stunned, her eyes blinking rapidly.

"All of this," I gestured to the party, "None of it is real. You aren't real. Dad isn't real. And I am a product of that artificiality. I want something genuine now. I want answers."

"Answers?" she asked, her tone tinged with uncertainty, as I stepped closer to her.

"I know you're keeping something from me. I know Dad isn't who he portrays himself as, and I am going to find out why."

My mother seemed to lose all color in her face, and as a couple passed us, she smiled at them. Seeing my chance to break away, I began to turn, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back abruptly, guiding us to a secluded corner.

"Ouch, Mom!"

She halted by a small table, turning me to face her, and an unfamiliar intensity filled her eyes.

"I don't know what you think you know, Alison, but I can assure you that whatever digging you plan to do, you won't, because if you do, you won't be happy about what you might uncover," she warned.

I stared at her, bewildered. Jared had assured me my mother wasn't on his hit list, but something felt profoundly amiss with her.

"What do you know?" I demanded.

"I know nothing," she quickly replied, her eyes darting nervously across the crowd. I followed her gaze, locking eyes with my father before returning my attention to her. "What does he know?"

She hissed at me, her grip tightening on my arm.

"Something is going on," I insisted.

"Nothing is going on."

"No, something isn't right here. Why are you so determined to control every aspect of my life as if one wrong move might be the death of us?" I pressed, frustration lacing my tone. My mother glared at me, but her silence only fueled my suspicions. "Is it? Is one wrong move going to be the death of us?"

"Alison, I think you've had too much to drink," she deflected.

"I haven't touched a drop. Now tell me what the hell is going on!" I demanded.

Just then, the crowd erupted into song, calling for my mother as a large cake was brought out, her name written on it. She glanced at the cake before turning her attention back to me, stepping closer.

"Alison, let it go," she commanded.

"What?" I inquired, not understanding her reasons for quietness.

"I told you to let it go. Now let's go have cake," she instructed, turning away from me, assuming I would comply.

Seizing the opportunity, I stormed inside, my fingers flying across my phone screen, my tears of desperation clouding my vision as I found Jared's number. The distant sound of singing drifted in from the backyard as I stood near the entrance to the house. Glancing back at the way I had come, I then focused on my phone, ready to press call.

But then… "Hello, little dove."

I spun around, my phone slipping from my grasp as I beheld Vince standing right in front of me. Behind him, only a few familiar faces were visible, the rest concealed by masks. It was evident that Astrid's cousins wanted me to recognize them before they donned their disguises and surged forward, going for the doors that lead outside.

"What is happening?" I murmured, instinctively moving forward to interfere, but Vince intercepted me, his hand gripping my arm and yanking me back against him.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, struggling against his hold, my heart racing as the cacophony of gunshots and screams pierced the air.

I fought harder, unable to believe the horrific sounds assaulting my senses, but Vince remained resolute, refusing to release me. He clung to me with a vice-like grip as I screamed and thrashed.

"NO!" I yelled, desperation lacing my voice. "Let me go! No!"

With a swift motion, he produced something from his pocket, and in an instant, a cloth covered my mouth before I realized too late what I had inhaled. As the world began to blur and darkness enveloped me, his words echoed in my ear like a sinister whisper, "I told you to run, little dove."