Page 22

5

SEASONS CHANGE

MONTHS LATER…….

S taring at the window, I barely hear Rey behind me as he continues to get dressed. His workdays are becoming longer, his work trips more frequent. The nightmares have been getting worse, and not even the medicine helps. The sickness has lessened in a way since moving to the house, but my mind—my mind won’t quiet.

I feel like I’m slipping.

And I think he sees it too.

He no longer touches me. Not as his wife. But as an incubator. My hand trembles as I force myself to feel something—anything as my daughter kicks against my palm. But nothing comes. No warmth. No joy. Only dread. Dread for her arrival. Dread for what’s to come.

"Mi Reina, don't wait up for me today."

My eyes follow him as he heads out the door. I try to remember the last time we really talked. The last time he held me. The last time his lips against my cheek meant love, not habit. Now, I stand alone, my heart racing with fears about the future.

My mind is a prison. I can’t speak freely about the terror in this house. I can’t tell him about the affair—the one I know he’s having. I can’t tell him about the dreams. About Josh. Nothing is as it should be, and I don’t know what to do anymore. My body moves on autopilot—first the shower, then my teeth, then food. Then, the nursery. I sit in the rocking chair and stare out the window. My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It feels like hers.

My gaze lifts to my reflection in the window. And she is there. Clinging to me. Her face bloodied, her white dress tattered, her arms draped around my stomach. A wide, knowing smile stretches across her lips as she rubs my belly.

There is no escape from her. Maybe only death.

The air shifts. Colder. I rock slowly, feeling the weight of her presence wrap around me. But there’s another one. Darker. In the shadows. Watching from afar. I see it now. A black, tall shadow stands by the door, waiting. Watching.

I close my eyes. I rock. The air grows thick, suffocating. Then, the voices start.

"No, stop!"

A man’s voice. Frantic. Pleading.

"She’s pregnant! Please ? —"

My body keeps rocking. Back. Forth. My eyes remain closed, but I feel it—something evil, something suffocating.

"Please."

A woman now. Her voice shakes with desperation. "Please, spare him."

The air thickens. My stomach churns.

"Take me."

The scent of iron and urine burns my nostrils.

A baby wails.

Then—the smell of burnt flesh.

I open my eyes. And she is there.

Brown eyes wide, puffy, tears streaking down her face. Her hands shake as she stares at the man in front of her—as he bursts into flames.

So much blood. So much blood.

I rock harder, nails digging into the wooden armrests. Footsteps. The woman presses a finger to her lips.

Silence.

My heart slams against my ribs. The screams stop. The footsteps stop.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Rocking harder. Faster.

And then—she lunges.

A blur of white and blood and frantic eyes, her mouth splitting open in a scream as she charges toward me.

"NO!"

I thrash, gasping for breath.

"NO."

"You're hurting yourself, Serena!"

A voice cuts through the horror. Firm hands grab my wrists, shaking me.

I blink. The vision is gone.

Josh is in front of me, his icy blue eyes sharp, scanning my face. He smells like earth, sweat, and something else. Something safe. But I smell blood.... feel the burn.

"It hurts," I say flatly.

Josh simply nods as he scans my face with a worried look etched on his features. His presence doesn't alarm me... At this point, I stop asking how he got here. He always appears when I need him—like some kind of farmer guardian angel. But again, my mind is slipping. This might not even be real. My hands pull away from my face, and I feel it—the deep scratches along my skin. I don’t even want to see the damage.

"I'm worried," he says as he cups my chin, tilting my face to assess the wounds.

But my eyes aren’t on him. They’re locked on the tall shadow standing in the doorway. Watching. Waiting.

"You should go," I whisper.

"I'm not leaving you like this." His voice is firm, final. He releases my chin and helps me to my feet. "Come, let’s get your face cleaned up."

I follow, my body trailing behind him like a ragdoll. As we move down the hallway, I catch a glimpse of my room. The door is slightly ajar.

I see it—movement inside. Then, the door slams shut.

Josh stops abruptly. His muscles tense as he scans the area. "What the fuck was that?"

I look to the mirror at the end of the hall. She is there. Pointing. At the nursery. Or my room. Or maybe at me.

"It’s the ghost."

Josh lets out a nervous chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. Just unease.

"You got jokes, ha."

I don’t answer.

I wish it was a joke.

But it’s not.

She’s here. Watching.

We continue to move towards the guest bathroom, and I take a seat on the toilet, watching as Josh opens my medicine cabinet, but my mind drifts elsewhere.

"You can't be doing this to yourself. You're scaring me, Serena." My husband yells at me, "What has gotten into you lately?" His voice drops a little at the end as he places the first aid kit on the sink. "Is the medicine not working?"

I bite my lower lip, my eyes catching a glimpse of my husband’s neck, the bright red mark on it. He doesn’t even hide it anymore… he’s replacing me. I’m broken.

"Who is she?"

Rey stops, opening the bandage and looking at me. With a stern look on his face, "Who is who?" He points at the side of his head. "You aren't right up here, Serena." His face softens as he steps away and kneels in front of me to place the bandage above my eyebrow.

I can smell her on him… there’s no denying the fruity traces of the mistress’s perfume. I smell the booze, the cigar. Tears pool in my eyes as I think back on our nights.

"Who is she?" I whimper again as he places the bandage on my cut.

I got it from another fall… this time, I could hear him. I know it was him in the office, watching porn or something that sounded like it as he touched her on his desk. But I couldn’t see her face, not even when I got close. But it wasn’t real. It’s this house… this pregnancy… This marriage drives me mad.

"Serena?" Josh’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "You okay? You left me for a moment."

His face is so close I can smell the mint of his breath, the cedar aftershave… his sweat and the lavender of the fields. How long has it been since Rey looked my way… My body moves on its own, and I press my lips against his. Through my thick lashes, I look up at Josh. His eyes are wide. Shock.

I pull away.

"I’m so sorry."

He smiles, bringing his hand to my cheek. "It’s okay. I would like to do it again," he says, leaning closer. I should back away. I should turn away. But the anger inside me takes control, the tiny voice of insecurity needing to feel reassured. Needing to feel anything but nothingness. I don’t stop him as his soft, pillowy lips press on mine, as his tongue sweeps inside, as his hand fists in my hair, pulling me toward him. My mouth moves against his… and suddenly, I’m once again a passenger in my body.

"He will kill you if he finds out about us," the woman whispers into the man’s lips.

"Let him find out. You’re not his. Your husband abandoned you… abandoned his child." His hand moves to her swollen stomach.

"But I’m still technically married," she moans, moving above him as they sit on the floor. With her on top riding him.

When suddenly, the bedroom door bursts open. Due to the darkness, I can’t make out the face, but I feel the terror. Our bodies lock up, he holds me no longer passionately but with protectiveness.

"NO," I shout, and my eyes snap open and see Josh’s eyes heavy with desire and confusion.

"I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have." He begins to apologize, pulling away. "I’m so sorry, Serena."

I don’t say anything… I can’t even look at him. He’s the proof of my transgressions. The proof that I am worthless.

The voice in my head hums.

Worthless.

Whore.

Worthless.

Whore.

Bile rises in my throat. I jump up from the toilet seat and puke inside the toilet.

"Serena," he sighs as he moves closer, holding my hair and rubbing my back. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you." Josh immediately holds my hair as he rubs my back. Continuing to apologize over and over until I’m done puking.

And then we both sit in silence on the floor of my bathroom.