I step out of the shower wrapped in my silk robe, my hair is damp as strands of it clings to my shoulders. The faint scent of lavender from my bath still lingers in the air, but it does little to calm the knot of tension in my chest. I hate the tension so badly.
I grab a towel to pat my hair dry and step into the dressing room then I freeze when I see Leonard in the closet. Leonard stands by the wardrobe, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, his broad back to me as he scans his collection of shirts.
I wonder if he's taking his time to pick out a shirt because of her. But I shake my head and I walk to where he's standing.
I touch his shoulder making him slowly turn to look at me with a bit of surprise.
"Hey…I thought it was just Mom and Clara" he says with a hint of surprise in his voice.
"And you didn't bother looking for me or perhaps calling me?" I blink off the disappointment.
"I—I was going to once I finished dinner" he replies.
Wow. I didn't expect the response I got.
He even put the food before me, just because Clara made it?
I stare at him for a while.
Right now, I'm not sure what to expect from Leonard anymore. The same man that wanted us to eat like a family even with his cold nature. The same man that would scold me when I don't try to call him or text him before night fall when he's not back home yet. It's the same man who has suddenly changed these past days. I can't help but think that it's all because of her.
I let out a sigh.
"Don't tell me you are upset just because I didn't call you?" He asks but I don't answer his question.
"I want to talk to you about something"
His brow furrows slightly at the edge in my tone. "What is it this time?"
I tighten my grip on the towel. "Why was Clara cooking in my—our kitchen? I didn't know she would be here. Did she sleep here yest—"
His expression shifts, a mix of confusion and indifference as he cuts through my words with his "What do you mean exactly?"
"I mean," I say, "she didn't ask me. You didn't even tell me. This is our home, our space, and she just walked in to take over like she owns the place. She's a stranger Leo. And it's even odd that she's here making dinner for you. We have workers to do that. I can do that."
Leonard sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. "Evelyn, what has Clara done to you? She has done nothing wrong to you to deserve this sentiment. She even left the country last time because of how uncomfortable you were with her being around. Can't you see how considerate she was of you?"
He shuts his eyes and opens them again "I told you she's going through a lot and that you should understand it. I don't see any big deal if she comes to make dinner for me. I mean you can't exactly call her a stranger"
My frustration bubbles to the surface. "It is a big deal, Leo. You know how I feel about just anyone being in my kitchen"
He steps closer, his tone softening, as if he's trying to pacify me. "Look, Clara is not just anyone. She's important to my family. She's been through a lot lately" then he flies his hand in the air "and just when I thought you were understanding."
"Understanding…" I scoff. "Is she more important than me, your wife? I want her gone immediately" I say as the last words slur out of my mouth in bits. I fold my hands together.
Leonard exhales a chuckle. "Evelyn," he calls my name with this tired voice as he turns around to place his hand on my shoulder. "I can't ask Clara to leave" he affirms strongly. "And as my wife, you say, you should try to get my point."
I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off, his voice firm now. "Besides, she put so much effort into making dinner tonight. I don't know Clara to be someone who likes to cook. The least you and I can do is come down, be polite, and eat what she made. It would be rude not to. It will be nice to appreciate people's efforts. Don't you think so?"
The words hit me like a slap. Polite? Rude? I'm his wife. Why does it feel like I'm the outsider here?
Leonard doesn't wait for a response. He turns back to the wardrobe, finally pulls out a lemon green shirt. "Just get dressed, Evelyn," he says, his tone is a bit softer. "We'll be waiting downstairs."
Without another word, he leaves the closet and seconds later I hear the door clicking shut behind him. I don't know if I should be angry or sad. This is the husband I've been trying to impress for the last three years of my marriage—not including the first two years of our marriage as those were under contract.
I stand there, rooted in place. My robe clings to my damp skin, and for a moment, I consider staying in my room, ignoring the dinner entirely. But a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind tells me that would only make things worse.
Reluctantly, I pull on a simple black dress, brushing through my hair quickly before heading downstairs. The sound of laughter greets me as I approach the dining room, Clara's voice carrying easily over the murmur of conversation.
When I step inside, Margaret, Leonard's mother, is sitting at the head of the table. Leonard is next to her, smiling as Clara regales them with some story, her laughter light and carefree.
"Evelyn!" Margaret greets me, her tone doesn't exactly sound like she's happy that I came down. But she motions for me to take a seat. "We were just talking about Leonard's childhood. Clara's been reminding us of all the trouble he used to get into."
I force a smile and sit, my appetite already dwindling.
Clara leans forward, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Do you remember that time, Leonard, when we snuck out of school to go to the lake? You almost got us caught, you thought jumping into the lake would be the best idea but I talked our way out of it."
Leonard chuckles, shaking his head. "How can I forget? You were always the one getting me out of trouble."
I grip my fork tightly, pushing the food around my plate as Clara continues, each story another jab at the fragile walls I'm trying to build around my composure.
"And the time we built that treehouse?" Clara adds, her gaze flicking to me briefly before returning to Leonard. "You fell and scraped your knee, and I had to carry you on my back. You were such a baby about it! You even cried all day until your mom was home"
Everyone laughs, the sound grating against my nerves. I glance at Leonard, hoping for a look, a gesture, something to acknowledge my presence. But he's caught up in the memory, his smile wide and unguarded.
"Evelyn," Clara suddenly calls my name and I focus my gaze on her "do you know that Leonard used to fight off guys who tried talking to me back then. And the funny thing was, he is the one that would usually end up in tears after the fight." Clara says and cracks up in laughter.
I drop my fork noisily onto the plate, the clatter drawing their attention. "Excuse me," I say abruptly, standing to my feet. "I'm not feeling too well."
Margaret looks up at me. Clara tilts her head to the side as she glances at my seat, her expression unreadable.
Leonard frowns, starting to rise from his seat. "Since when?"