Mated For Revenge

CHAPTER SEVEN: Another Harsh Revelation

CATHERINE’S POV:

"C'mon, sweetheart, it's time for bed," Mr. Knox says.

He’s obviously dodging Maxinne’s request. He approaches and scoops Maxinne into his arms, but the determined five-year-old squirms in protest.

"Alright, alright, what game do you wanna play before bedtime?" Mr. Knox asks, his tone gentle as he tries to coax Maxinne into compliance.

Maxinne pauses, her brow furrowing in concentration as she ponders her daddy’s question. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in her big eyes, she turns to me.

"Anything, but Catherine plays with us too, okay?" Maxinne says, her voice brimming with excitement.

That brings a smile to my face, but that smile immediately falters when I notice Mr. Knox’s hesitation, his gaze flickering uncertainty towards me before returning to Maxinne.

I hold my breath, unsure of how Mr. Knox will respond. I don’t wanna intrude on their father-daughter time but can’t deny the warmth that blossoms in my chest at the thought of joining them.

After a moment of hesitation, Mr. Knox's expression softens. With a silent nod, he gives me permission to join them, his eyes silently conveying a slight worry though. I wanna know why he’s worried about my presence, perhaps my story isn’t enough to convince him that I’m not harmful or anything of that sort. However, I keep that curiosity to myself.

My heart swells with gratitude as I rise from the sofa, my steps light as I follow them upstairs to Maxinne’s playroom.

The air in Maxinne's playroom is filled with the soft rustle of toys and the gentle hum of laughter. The room is awash with the warm glow of a lamp, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with colorful drawings.

Maxinne's tiny arms reach out to me as I stand a few feet away from her and Mr. Knox. "Daddy, I wanna go to Catherine.”

Mr. Knox sighs, a mix of weariness and amusement etches across his face. He turns to me, bending a little as he surrenders Maxinne into my waiting arms. Mr. Knox lingers for a moment longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against mine. In that fleeting touch, a subtle current wriggles through me, something I can’t explain leaves my heart aflutter.

Our gazes lock at each other, and for a heartbeat, time seems to suspend. Heat travels from my cheeks to the nape of my neck, my heart quickening its pace. Mr. Knox, too, seems entranced, his piercing violet eyes barely blink as if trying to decipher the unspoken language in my eyes.

As we stand there, our lips inches apart, our breath mingle, the air crackles with an undeniable tension, an invisible thread pulling us closer. But as soon as I become acutely aware of the proximity, I quickly step back, adjusting Maxinne in my arms as if to shield myself from the intensity of the unspoken exchange.

Mr. Knox blinks out of the trance, his gaze dropping momentarily before he clears his throat, a faint flush tinting his chiseled cheeks. A subtle shift in the room's atmosphere heralds the return to normalcy, and yet, the lingering electricity in my veins lingers.

Well, that’s… that’s something.

My heart still flutters erratically as I settle onto the foam-matted floor with Maxinne. I will myself to focus on the playful antics of the little sweet girl, hoping to drown out the memory of the charged moment with Mr. Knox. Maxinne’s chattering animatedly helps calm my frayed nerves.

As I immerse myself in the make-believe world of Maxinne's games, Mr. Knox settles onto the small sofa nearby, then he reaches for the remote control, flicking through channels in search of something to entertain him.

My attention wavers momentarily, my gaze quickly drawn to the voice emanating from the massive flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. The voice, so achingly familiar yet tinged with a bitter undertone, sends a shiver down my spine.

"Layla," I whisper under my breath.

The images of her n.aked body under Elijah’s emerge in my memory again.

Now my eyes are completely fixed on the image of Layla, who looks radiant as always. Her delightful and excited demeanor is palpable on the screen.

Layla's fellow journalist, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, points to the glittering ring adorning Layla’s finger.

"Are congratulations in order? Are you getting married?" the journalist asks.

Layla's blush deepens, a soft giggle escaping her painted lips as she nods in affirmation. My heart stops beating cold at my chest, tears begin to sting my eyes.

"Yes, I am," Layla replies, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

What the f.uck?!

The journalist congratulates her warmly, but then his expression turns quizzical. "But why does it feel so sudden? You've never mentioned a boyfriend before.”

The journalist playfully chuckles while Layla's smile falters for a moment, her gaze flickering with uncertainty before she composes herself. "I've always preferred to keep my love life private. And, well, I just found out this morning that I'm five-week pregnant."

A rush of emotions surges through me - anger, disgust, agony! Ragged breaths tear from my chest, my hands trembling uncontrollably. And despite the chill of the air-conditioned room, beads of sweat form on my brow, my skin clammy and cold to the touch. It feels as though the ground has shifted beneath me, leaving me adrift in a sea of bitterness.

As I sit frozen, my mind reeling, my heart pounding, a soft voice breaks through the haze of my thoughts, and I feel a small arm dangling around my shoulders.

"Daddy, I think Catherine is sick. She can't breathe," Maxinne's innocent voice echoes in my ears.

Before I could even completely register what’s happening, Mr. Knox is at my side in an instant, his strong arms enveloping me in a protective embrace.

"Are you okay, Catherine?" he asks, his voice laced with worry.

I couldn't find the words to respond. Instead, I bury my face against Mr. Knox's chest, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He no longer presses for answers or demands explanations; instead, he simply holds me tight.

With me still cradled in his arms, Mr. Knox gently rises from the foam-matted floor. "Maxinne, sweetheart, Daddy needs to take care of Catherine for a bit.”

Maxinne's lower lip trembles, a hint of sadness clouding her innocent features. "But Daddy, can't I come too? I want to help Catherine."

“I promise we’ll be back as quickly as we can,” Mr. Knox replies.

Reluctantly, Maxinne nods, a single tear trailing down her rosy cheek as she offers me a sorrowful smile. "Okay, Daddy. Take care of Catherine."

Once Mr. Knox and I are alone in the hallway, I finally find my voice, my tone tinged with a brittle resolve. "I can walk on my own, Mr. Knox.”

Mr. Knox’s arms tighten instinctively around me as if reluctant to let me go. But when a painful smile graces my lips, he slowly and gently lowers me to my feet, his hands lingering on my waist for a moment longer before releasing me.

The negative emotions in my chest and the negative thoughts in my head are too much to carry, and I have to release them somehow to hopefully lessen their intensity.

"Mr. Knox," I begin, my voice trembling with emotion. "That woman on the TV, Layla... She's my husband's mistress."

Mr. Knox’s features harden, his eyes filled with sympathy.

"They didn’t even waste time, couldn't spare a single thought for me whom they destroyed. Twenty-four hours since I left and they’re now getting married? And to add insult to injury, she's carrying his child. A child conceived in deceit and lies, while I mourn the one I will never hold.”

I can still feel the weight of my child's absence, a void that consumes me every waking moment. A child I lost because of their selfish desires, their reckless actions! How could they be so blind to the pain they've caused? How could they parade their love in front of everyone, knowing the wreckage they've left in their wake?

Tears well in my eyes, cascading down my cheeks in a torrent of raw emotion. My heart feels like it’s been torn from my chest, leaving behind a gaping wound that won’t heal. With gentle hands, Mr. Knox wipes away my tears, cocooning me in his arms again.