Chapter 17

The morning sun streamed through the curtains as I descended the staircase, greeted by the sight of Emily and Mrs. Vilis already seated at the dining table. Mrs. Vilis lovingly fed Emily, and I offered a polite greeting before planting a gentle peck on Emily's forehead. I intended to head straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone.

However, my plans took an unexpected turn when Ella approached me, holding a mysterious box. "Can you try this on?" she asked, surprising me since our interactions had been far from friendly. Nonetheless, I cautiously accepted the box, thanking her with a polite "Thanks, Ma Ella."

Upstairs in my room, I unwrapped the box to find an indigo gown. It hugged my body perfectly when I tried it on, and I decided to wear it downstairs. With my hair down, I descended the staircase to find Mr. Anderson, Mrs. Anna, and Ella already present. Mr. Anderson's surprised expression caught my attention, and I couldn't help but smile at him.

As I approached, Mr. Anderson's demeanor changed abruptly. He grabbed my hand, his voice laced with anger, accusing me of going through his late wife Sarah's wardrobe. Confusion gripped me as I stammered, "Your late wife's clothes?" Mrs. Anna, equally furious, echoed the sentiment.

"I didn't know it was your late wife's clothes, Ella," I tried to explain, but Ella swiftly cut me off. "Oh, please shut up. You didn't know it was Sarah's wardrobe, but you went there and took what's not yours."

The betrayal cut deep as Ella, the one who had given me the gown, now seemed to be turning against me. I questioned her motives silently, wondering if she deliberately set me up. Mrs. Anna, fueled by anger, moved to slap me, but Mr. Anderson intervened, holding her hand.

"I hate it when people take my late wife's stuff. Go and take off the gown and put it back where you found it," Mr. Anderson commanded before storming out, with Mrs. Anna following suit. Left alone, I stood there, grappling with the unexpected turn of events, the indigo gown now a symbol of confusion and strained relationships.

As Ella's words hung in the air, a mix of shock and disbelief swept over me. Her smirk hinted at a hidden agenda, a malicious satisfaction that chilled the atmosphere. I couldn't fathom how someone who had seemingly offered a gift of friendship could turn so venomous.

"Anderson is just using you to heal from his dead wife Sarah," she sneered, her words cutting through the silence. "When he's done, he will run back to me. Don't be surprised when we get married. You are just a toy he can play with. This little episode taught you a lesson that he doesn't care about you."

Her attempt to shatter the fragile peace I had found with Mr. Anderson stung, but I refused to let her words unravel me. I walked closer to her, my eyes reflecting a newfound determination. "I lost my respect for you today," I declared, my voice steady despite the emotional turmoil within. "Mr. Anderson is hurting because of the game you just played. You framed me to make him hate me. I don't care if he's using me as long as he finds comfort with me."

The indigo gown, once a symbol of betrayal, now became a symbol of defiance. "I don't care if he doesn't love me," I continued my words resonating with a resolve I didn't know I possessed. "I find peace with Mr. Anderson, and I love him so much. I will do everything in my power to protect him. Let the game begin."

With those words, I turned away from Ella, leaving her with a mixture of frustration and surprise etched on her face. The battle lines were drawn, and I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As I walked away, the weight of the indigo gown seemed to lift, replaced by a newfound strength to navigate the intricate web of emotions and deceit that now surrounded me.

Two days had passed since the incident, and the absence of Mr. Anderson weighed heavily on my mind. The longing for his presence grew with each passing moment. I decided to immerse myself in a warm bath, hoping to wash away the yearning that lingered within me. As I emerged, I tied my wet hair into a loose ponytail, the droplets trickling down my skin.

Draped in my favorite attire, I prepared to retire for the night. The solitude seemed endless until an unexpected knock echoed through my room. I hesitated before swinging the door open, revealing Mr. Anderson standing there, his demeanor mysterious and unsettling. The scent of alcohol clung to him, and his eyes betrayed the effects of a few too many drinks.

"Mr. Anderson, are you drunk?" I questioned, my voice tinged with concern. His response was a silent advance, his lips capturing mine in a moment that both surprised and captivated me. The intensity of the kiss left me breathless, my senses heightened by the unexpected intimacy.

Ignoring my inquiry, he delicately unraveled the ponytail I had crafted moments ago. His words, laced with an unusual tenderness, permeated the air. "I told you to leave your hair like this; you look beautiful this way." The sincerity in his tone sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of vulnerability and desire.

"I miss you, Chloe," he confessed, the weight of those words hanging between us. A surge of emotions flooded over me. Was it the alcohol speaking, or was this a revelation of genuine sentiment? The ambiguity of the moment didn't matter as much as the undeniable yearning I felt in response to his admission.

His fingers gently tucked my damp hair backward, the touch creating an intimate connection that left me yearning for more. As he leaned in for another kiss, the intensity of the situation escalated, pushing me to confront the complexity of my feelings, caught in the whirlwind of a moment I never expected.