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“Amelia. What brings you here?” Olivia inquired, astonishment evident in her voice at Amelia’s audacity.
Amelia wiped her hands on her apron. “My daughter wanted a cake. So I baked one. Is this how it always is? Leaving my daughter alone all day?”
“What are you doing here, Amelia? When did you get out?”
“You seem like you’ve seen a ghost,” she remarked, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she stared at an upset Martin.
“Olivia, right? You should offer your husband a strong drink.”
“Amelia!!”
“Alright, I’m here to fight for full custody of my daughter. Let’s settle this in court. I’m moving to South Africa.”
“You’re out of your mind. She’s my daughter too.”
“Indeed, the solution is simple. You know I’ll win. The final say belongs to our daughter.”
Olivia exchanged worried glances with her husband. If the little she-devil Sahara were to testify, Martin’s chances of winning custody were slim.
“You seem well prepared. What’s your proposition?” Olivia asked, rubbing Martin’s arm to calm him.
“A smart woman,” Amelia taunted, fixing her gaze on Martin.
“Spit it out!” Martin snapped.
“Let me stay here with your ‘little’ family until she comes of age.”
“Impossible!” Martin thunderd, horrified at the thought of the chaos that would follow. “I’d rather let the court decide.”
“Fine by me,” Amelia replied, pouring herself a glass of champagne. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But setting court matters aside, Olivia, would you kindly let me stay the night? I can’t bear being away from my daughter on our first night together.”
Olivia glanced at the mother and daughter, their triumphant smirks filling her with a sense of resignation.
|•|
Olivia collected groceries and placed them in the trolley that Martin pushed into the supermarket. She turned to him.
“Is it that dire?”
“I won’t play her games. I’ll take my chances in court.”
”To what end? Your daughter will grow to resent you more. Let’s just give her what she wants.”
Martin regarded his wife as if she had grown a second head. “There must be another way.”
“But there isn’t; the first court hearing is next week. Don’t let this drag on to the point that your daughter resents you. Let Amelia have her way. It’s just five years. We can manage.”
Despite himself, Martin had to concede that his wife made sense. He loved his daughter and the thought of being Amelia for Olivia, he was denied access to Romazaria. He had hurt her and yielded to her demands. But this situation was different; if Amelia
took her away, he feared he’d never see her again.
|•|
Later that evening, Martin waited in a stylish restaurant, sipping water. His eyes fixated on the entrance, where his ex-wife, Amelia walked in. She wore a sultry leather dress that clung enticingly to her curves. Her once-long hair was now a short bob.
“Did you wait long?”
‘You’re here, that’s what matters.”
“Grouchy much?”
“My wife and I talked. We agree to your – offer.”
“Good decision”, she said, playing with her earring.“It’s all for Zaria of course.”
The waiter came over to them, and Martin turned down the menu.
“Won’t you even buy me dinner?’
She inquired innocently, her voice carrying a sultry undertone. She extended her hand across the table, aiming to caress his, but he recoiled as if jolted by electricity.
Amelia chuckled, clearly entertained, as his glare intensified.
“Amelia, don’t go getting funny ideas in that head of yours. I love my wife and only her. My heart belongs to my wife alone.”
”Says the man who cheated on me.”
He glared at her, tossed money on the table, and left.
Amelia placed an order, then picked up a knife and scrutinized it.
You will love me again, Martin. I swear you will.
And so, Amelia moved in. Initially, everything seemed fine. The new and ex wives coexisted.
Zaria’s behaviour improved too. Yet, Olivia remained wary of the other woman, well aware of the resentment Amelia held for them. No magic would erase that deep-seated bitterness with her appearance.
One day, Olivia woke to find Amelia had cleaned and prepared breakfast.
”Amelia, what are you doing?”
Amelia stood by the kitchen counter, untying her apron.
“Olivia, you’re awake. Good morning.”
“Have you been up all night?” It was just past five.
”A few hours. You do like to sleep in, huh?”
“Thank you for cleaning, but we have maids.”
Amelia looked at her in surprise. “Oh, didn’t Mrs Sanders inform you? She quit yesterday. I gave her severance pay.”
”What?”
”Men appreciate their homes more when their wives oversee the details.”
”You’re not his wife. I am. Or have you conveniently forgotten that? Please, let’s avoid this in the future.”
Amelia smiled innocently.“When Martin and I were married, he detested maids. It’s true, men change after remarriage.”
Olivia walked away.
Amelia sought to provoke her, but she refused to engage in her games.
However, later that morning, Martin discovered her gazing at the family photos in the corridor.
“Everything alright?”
‘“Just pondering the distinction between noble idiocy bordering on naivety and being good-hearted.”
Martin looked at her, concerned. “Is Amelia causing trouble? We don’t need to endure this.”
Doubt clawed on Olivia’s mind after a year of Amelia’s intrusion. Had she been too naive?
“I’m sorry for putting you through this. If it gets too tough, just say the word, and we can end it,” Martin offered.
Olivia yearned for escape, but Amelia’s threats were potent. Martin’s misery without his child was unbearable.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, seeking solace.
In the distance, a door closed discreetly down the corridor, accompanied by a derisive scoff.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on,” came the taunting words.
|•|
In the realm of bedtime tales, Olivia spun stories of valour and dragons for Alexander, rescuing damsels in distress. Meanwhile, Amelia and Zaria’s nights followed a different script.
One evening, while Olivia narrated Jack and the Beanstalk, Zaria absorbed her mother’s twisted version of their tale.
“Keep your patience, my dear. Soon, that woman and her unwanted son will exit, and your father will be ours alone.”
“Promise, mommy?” Zaria inquired.
Smiling into the mirror while brushing Zaria’s hair, Amelia’s voice held conviction. “Promises I make, I keep. Just obey Mom’s words, and your father will be ours.”
A tender kiss on the girl’s forehead sealed their pact.
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