Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Lies
Back in the city, Olivia Grant refused to accept her defeat quietly. Humiliated by Daniel's rejection and furious that her social standing was taking a hit because of rumors surrounding Daniel's divorce, she decided to take matters into her own hands.
She hired a private investigator to track down my location. It didn't take long; public records of property transfers and legal filings left a faint trail.
One crisp November morning, as I was packing boxes of freshly baked pastries for the Saturday market, a sleek foreign car pulled up to the driveway of my parents' coastal home. A woman stepped out, clicking her expensive Louboutin heels against the gravel path.
I froze, wiping my flour-dusted hands on my apron as I stepped out onto the porch.
It was Olivia.
She looked around the modest, breezy coastal property with a thinly veiled smirk, her designer sunglasses perched on her nose.
“Well, well,” Olivia said, removing her glasses and looking me up and down. “Country living. How quaint, Rachel. I must admit, I expected you to be crying in a downtown studio apartment, not baking bread by the ocean.”
My blood ran cold, followed instantly by a surge of pure, white-hot fury. The woman who had danced through my husband's distraction while my daughter died was standing on my doorstep.
“Get off this property,” I said, my voice trembling, not with fear, but with adrenaline. “Right now.”
“Oh, calm down, martyr,” Olivia scoffed, stepping closer. “I just came to clear the air. You’ve successfully ruined Daniel’s life, you know. He’s completely unhinged. He threw me out, he fired half our mutual circle, and he sits in that depressing little office all day acting like a monk. Are you happy now? You trapped him with three babies, and when one tragic little accident happened, you ran away like a coward.”
The word coward hung in the air.
Before I could even process the insult, the screen door behind me creaked open. My father, a retired marine colonel with silver hair and an imposing stature, stepped onto the porch. He had been listening.
Without saying a word, my father walked down the steps, his towering frame casting a shadow over Olivia. He didn't yell; his voice was low, terrifying, and laced with absolute authority.
“You have exactly ten seconds to get back into your vehicle and drive off this property,” my father said, pointing toward her car. “If you are not gone by the eleventh second, I will call the local sheriff for trespassing, and I promise you, my friend the sheriff doesn't look kindly on stalkers.”
Olivia’s confidence faltered under my father's steady, dangerous glare. She looked at me, then at him, realizing she had severely miscalculated.
“This isn't over,” she spat out, turning on her heel and marching back to her car. Tires screeched as she backed out of the driveway, kicking up gravel in her wake.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, my knees shaking slightly. My father wrapped a warm, heavy arm around my shoulders.
May you like
“You okay, sweethear?” he asked softly.
“I am now, Dad,” I murmured. But inside, I knew one thing for certain: Olivia’s visit meant that Daniel’s past was still trying to reach into our new life. And I needed to make sure Daniel knew once and for all that our chapter was permanently closed.
