Mistress #100 Was the Last Straw

The basement was damp and freezing. My whole body was trembling from fear as I pressed myself against the cold iron door.

"Let me out! My mom's dying!" I pounded on the door with all my strength until my fists were raw and bloody. Slowly, I sank to the floor and cried my heart out.

My phone had died and run out of battery in my pocket, and the doctor's words—"one last chance to say goodbye"—kept ringing in my head.

I'd promised Mom that once I had enough saved, I'd let go of Jaxon and leave. I'd take her somewhere warm and quiet to heal.

So, why did it have to be today? Why did Jaxon refuse to check if my words were true?

In the darkness, memories crashed over me in waves.

…

Back in high school, I painted sunflower petals blue in the art studio. When my classmates laughed at me for being color-blind, only Jaxon, passing by, paused at my easel.

"A sunflower that lives under moonlight? Do you like 'The Clockwork Dawn' too? There's a lonely beauty to it, just like the one painting it." He tapped on the blue paint and looked at me, smiling as the sunlight cast over his face.

That flutter of the heart was the beginning of the ten-year nightmare.

Next came the Wilde family's dinner party, where I woke up in his bed, covered in bruises. His hand closed around my throat as he snarled, "You and your mom are one disgusting pair! How dare you drug me?"

It was only later that I learned the Wildes had slipped that glass of wine to Mom. They needed an obedient puppet for a daughter-in-law, and as the one who'd trailed after Jaxon since high school, I was the best candidate.

I lay curled on the basement floor as memories flooded my mind. I started losing track of time.

After what felt like an hour—or maybe the whole night—the basement door swung open with a click, and sunlight spilled in.

Jaxon, standing bathed in the sunlight, snapped, "Had enough?"

Elowen clung to his arm and giggled sweetly. "Don't be mad, Mr. Wilde. Some people just love playing the victim."

He looked down at me and mockingly continued, "Everything's fine over at the hospital. Winston said he didn't get any wailing phone calls last night."

My head snapped up. No calls meant the worst had happened.

This time, I didn't shrink back and rush to patch things up or beg for his forgiveness just like before. Instead, I slowly lowered my hands from my eyes.

As they adjusted to the light, I finally had a good look at him.

Our eyes met.

My dress was stained with dust and spilled champagne, no longer a trace of what was once my wedding gown. Streaks of tears had dried on my cheeks, and the look in my eyes was calm and empty like stagnant water.

Jaxon frowned and annoyedly snapped, "What are you standing there for? Get over here!"

I braced against the wall and forced my numb, aching legs to stand. Pins and needles stabbed my calves with every step.

As I passed him, I didn't stop and murmured in a raspy voice, "Keys."

"What game are you playing now?" He grabbed my arm.

"Car keys," I said without looking back. "Give me the keys. I'm going to the hospital."

Behind him, Elowen softly whispered, "She's still so stubborn, Mr. Wilde…"

"Let her." Jaxon snorted and let me go. "Follow her, Winston."

Winston sped all the way to the hospital. Once we arrived, I stumbled out and staggered my way into the ICU.

A nurse had tears welling up in her eyes when she saw me. "You're finally here, Ms. Emberlyn. She held on all night and kept calling your name, reaching for the door…"

My teeth chattered, and my voice cracked as I forced out the words "Take me… to her".

The morgue was cold and bathed in white light. As they lifted the sheet, Mom's pale face entered my sight.

Just two days ago, we watched a video of a seaside cottage together. She laughed and said that once she got out of the hospital, she'd make my favorite soup.

But now, her eyes were shut tight, and her lips were purple. Her brows were furrowed tightly, and it was clear she'd died worrying about me.

"What time?" I asked in a trembling whisper.

"4:23 am. We called again and again…" the nurse murmured.

It was right when I was locked in that basement and sobbing myself hoarse.

As I smoothed out the deep lines on Mom's forehead, I bent down and pressed a kiss to her cold forehead.

"Wait for me just a little longer, Mom. We'll soon be free," I promised.