Chapter 2

The fallout at work was immediate and brutal.

My boss, Mr. Henderson, called me into his office the next morning.

"Ethan, what the hell happened yesterday?"

His face was grim.

"Public disturbance at a charity event. Harassing a volunteer. That's the report I got from the facility manager."

I tried to explain.

"That woman, Olivia, she's my wife."

Henderson just stared at me.

"Your wife? Who pretended not to know you? Who accused you of harassing her?"

He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Ethan, I've known you for five years. You're a good guy, a hard worker. But this... this is a mess."

He told me HR was involved.

"They're recommending a temporary suspension, pending a full review."

Suspension. My new promotion, my reputation, all at risk.

Because of Olivia.

I went home, the house feeling cold and empty.

Olivia wasn't there.

Her "wellness retreat" was supposed to last a week.

Where was she really? Who was Mrs. Peterson? Daughter-in-law?

My mind raced, replaying the scene at the care home.

Her calm denial, the way she called me "Mr. Hayes."

It was a performance, a flawless one.

She came home late that night, well after midnight.

I was sitting in the dark living room, waiting.

The key turned in the lock, and she stepped in, looking tired.

She saw me and jumped.

"Ethan! You scared me."

Then came the tears, the apologies.

"Oh, Ethan, I'm so, so sorry. I know I should have told you."

She sat beside me on the couch, her hands clutching mine.

They were cold.

"That woman, Mrs. Peterson," she began, her voice thick with emotion. "She... she reminds me so much of your mother, Susan."

My breath caught. Mom.

"The way she looks, her kindness, even some of her mannerisms. When I first saw her there, a few weeks ago, I just felt this overwhelming urge to help her. She's all alone, Ethan."

She said she'd been volunteering secretly.

"I knew how sensitive you still are about your mom. I didn't want to upset you, or make you think I was trying to replace her in some way. It was just... I felt a connection."

She claimed the "daughter-in-law" comment was just wishful thinking from the staff who saw how much time she spent with Mrs. Peterson.

"And yesterday... I panicked, Ethan. Seeing you there so unexpectedly, with your colleagues... I didn't know what to do. I said those awful things. I'm so ashamed."

She was crying freely now, her head on my shoulder.

It was a good story.

It preyed on my grief, on my love for my mother.

Part of me, the part that loved Olivia, that trusted her for years, wanted to believe it.

Needed to believe it.

The memory of my mother, her warmth, her kindness. If Mrs. Peterson was anything like her...

"I was just trying to do something good," Olivia whispered. "For her. And maybe, in a way, for Susan's memory."

I held her, feeling confused, hurt, but also a flicker of that old warmth.

"Okay, Olivia," I said, my voice hoarse. "Okay."

A temporary truce.

But a seed of doubt had been planted, and it was already taking root.