Page 204 of The Professor's Wife

“Just feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

He chuckled. “Well, this isn’t the first time I've had trouble with students, is it?”

It wasn’t that, though. Just as quickly, the feeling evaporated. I looked at him now, offering him a concerned look. “You do have this problem every year, don’t you?”

“I’m not crossing any lines,” he said quickly, looking deeply at me now. “Never, sweetheart.”

My legs felt like lead when I thought of going to him. Instead, I looked at him thoughtfully. “I know that, Oliver.”

You would never do that.I blinked, knowing I ought to add that last line in. To let him know that I felt he would never betray me like that, but the words sat in my mouth. I swallowed them down. I didn’t want to pretend that wasn’t something Oliver would do. Because it was something he could easily do.

I served the bacon before it burned, busying myself in the kitchen so I wouldn’t have to go to him or sit in his lap and pretend he was the love of my life.

He wasn’t.

I smiled at my thoughts because they were mine and he would never know. I could live like this, I reasoned. He had his secrets, and I had mine.

I served his food, my spine tingling when he took my hand and pulled me to him. That strange emotion returned, and I frowned.

“You keep looking like that,” he murmured, studying me.

I placed a hand on my forehead. “I feel a little off.”

Instead of concern, he smiled broadly. “You could be pregnant.”

Now I really did want to vomit. I smiled shakily in return. “You should pick up a test.”

“I’d march you down to the clinic for a blood test,” he said.

“I’ll let you know if it comes to that.”

He hummed in thought, looking excited at the thought while I inched away from him, knowing there was no chance of that. I kept my back to him so he didn’t see my nostrils flare at the hideous thought of carrying his child.

After he disappeared into his office for his meetings, I cleaned up the kitchen and gathered the laundry. I was in a bit of a sour mood. The thought of being pregnant with Oliver’s baby would have once made me cry with happiness. Now it felt like a prison sentence.

The man was pure venom.

I went about our home, stopping once to look at the pictures on the wall. I studied the wedding photo, ballooned up and hung in the entrance room of the home. When you walked into the house, the photo greeted you directly. A good first impression,Oliver had said. Not the correct impression, I would have replied had I been keen on being chained up.

I studied my face. I was so happy. My heart tugged at Rowe’s smiling face, his eyes on me. Oliver was looking at me, too. Two of the most important males in my life were looking at me like I was their everything.

I traced Oliver’s face, though my eyes clung to Rowe’s form.

I’m sorry, little guy.

I carried my son’s blood on my hands, and I never shirked from that truthI should have endured that demon’s punishment rather than send him to school that day. I couldn’t imagine such a strong version of myself, and that made it so much harder.

With a lump in my throat, I moved along, disappearing into the laundry room. As I crouched to throw the laundry in, I found the small pills beneath the bed linen. I hummed as I discreetly popped one open. I turned my back so it was facing the entrance of the room and then slipped a pill into my mouth. I swallowed it down without water, feeling it slide down my throat one inch at a time. Then I shoved the foil pack back under the linen that had needed washing for the past several months. I turned on the washer and went about my morning, very much aware of the cameras capturing my every move.

I could feel him watching me.

Every inch of me prickled with awareness.

When the doorbell rang mid-morning, I had a list ready to give to Louise.

“How are you, Daisy?” she asked, smiling brightly at me as she took the list from my hand.

“A little tired today,” I said. “How are you, Louise?”