Chapter 19

Renee’s POV

I don’t remember much of what happens next. Whatever was in my drink is really kicking in. The already dark room seems to be getting dimmer. My breath is becoming more constricted. Is something on my throat? I try to breathe; I forget how to breathe.

Suddenly I suck in a rush of air. Whatever weight was on me is instantly lifted off. That’s when I hear a loud bang and I force my head to loll to the side in the direction of the noise. Is that Eric on the floor?

Something grabs my legs.

I’m being lifted into the air, it’s like my whole body is floating up to the sky.

“I’m so sorry, Eric,” a woman’s voice says. It’s vaguely familiar and I try to recall the face. A fuzzy image comes to mind. It’s the client who supposedly liked my design.

“I will terminate the contract.” Eric barks. I realize he’s the one holding me. I slump in relief. Eric isn’t the one on the ground. He’s holding me. I’ve never felt more safe in his arms than I do now.

“Andrew,” Eric commands. When did his beta get here? “Throw Andrew in jail,” Eric snarls.

Eric begins to walk away with me in his arms. I force myself to keep my eyes open to see where we’re going.

He pushes the woman aside and once we’re out of the house, I collapse into Eric. We escaped. Sobs pour out of me as my adrenaline crashes. “Eric,” I hear myself moan into his chest.

In this very moment, I’ve never been more grateful for him in my life. Before I realize it, I’m kissing him and once I start, I can’t stop.

I trace my wet lips up his neck, my breath hitting against his ear calling out his name. Every word of gratitude comes out in the form of slow kisses. For an instant, I feel Eric tense up beneath my lips. I’m about to pull away but then u feel his fingers lace through my hair.

He pulls me up to him and presses his lips deeply onto mine. A moan deep within me sounds from my throat. I curl up against him like I can’t get enough.

I haven’t had enough. Even when we were married we were never this close. I become like putty in Eric’s hands as they slide over me, molding me to form to his body. I lose myself in him until I lose everything, until darkness comes over me.

Consciousness slowly creeps into my being. I feel like I got hit by a car. What happened last night? I try to recall the last twelve hours, but I can’t. The only thing that comes up is blankness.

My eyes shoot open and I immediately shut them. It’s so bright. I force myself to remain calm and take a deep breath. I slowly peel my eyes open and when my vision comes into focus I almost wish I stayed asleep.

I’m back in my old bedroom. I’m in Annie’s bedroom. Am I still Annie? Did I just dream up an anterior persona? I ignore the pounding on my head and sit up, noticing the sheets laying on me.

It’s the same one thousand thread count imported from Egypt. Everything about this room tells me that I never left.

The bedroom door swings open. Eric comes shuffling in and the memories of last night come flooding back. My vision is blinded by images of me kissing Eric. Oh no. I look back up at Eric who’s standing by

the bed handing me a glass of water and staring down at me confused. He’s still in last night's clothing but he looks disheveled.

I take the water and manage not to spill any from my trembling hand. I take a few gulps and prepare myself to ask him the dreaded question swirling around in my head.

“Did we,” my voice trails off. Eric’s lips curl into a smirk. I don’t even have to finish the question, he knows what I’m wondering and by the look on his face, I think I know the answer.

“I would never sleep with a woman who did respect me,” Eric says harshly. I’m not sure if I should be offended or relieved, maybe both.

Eric leaves the room. I’m not sure what this means for us now, but I do know o have to get out of here. I throw the sheets off of me and place my feet on the marble flooring. Déjà vu washes over me.

Absolutely everything is the same. I know I need to leave but I also need to know if anything is different.

Being in here is like I never left. Maybe that’s how Eric protects his ego, just pretending the Annie never rejected him.

I open the wardrobe and see some of my old clothing hanging right in place. Crisp and untouched. I bring my hand to my mouth. I raise my other to reach out and touch them but I don’t. To be fair, these are expensive clothes, it would be imprudent to throw them away.

I remember I had left some notes and things in my office. I wonder if he kept those, they would be the only thing of any real sentimental value.

I carefully close the wardrobe and tiptoe down the hall to my old office. I have to admit, I feel funny sneaking around in my own house. Then I remember, it’s not my house. I am Renee and this isn’t my house. Still, that doesn’t stop me from sneaking into this room, because after all it used to be my house.

I turn the doorknob, and clench my teeth as it gives a little creek. I wait for Wric to come rushing up the stairs, but he doesn’t. So, I push the door open further.

I freeze. Seeing what’s behind this door is more jarring than when I opened the wardrobe. I turn around, thinking that maybe I’m in the wrong room.

But no. Third door on the left down from the master suite. My office. Now turned into a nursery.

I slowly step forward. The walls are pale cream with a moss-green accent. The hardwood is covered with a plush ladybug. Why would Wric have a nursery?

Then I realize. It’s probably for Nilo. He and Mia probably spend the nights and this room was made for Nilo when he was born and he must still sleep here when he comes. How thoughtful of Eric I say with a laugh despite myself.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I hear his voice from close behind me, his breath down my need causing my hair to stand up

I spin around and immediately see the anger in Eric’s eyes. I open my mouth to say something, anything but no words come.

Suddenly my phone rings, causing me to jump. I pull my phone out of my pocket, expecting it to be Margaux wondering where I am and if I’m okay. I’m sure Debbie is probably wondering where her mom is; it’s not like me to not come home.

My fear of Eric dissolved and in its place came guilt. Except, when I look at the color ID I see it’s not Margaux. It’s Jasper. My stomach twists into knots.

I bring the phone to my ear and before I even say hello, Jasper's words fill my head and sink into my heart.

“Debbie is in a coma,”