"So tell me, darling," Mrs. Whinebrook starts as we're sitting in the limousine that was, in fact, not waiting outside for her. "Do you think he is cheating on you?"

I'm not sure if that's a natural reflex or if I truly believe it, but my head shakes instantly. "I think there is something he doesn't tell me, but I don't think Atlas would ever do such thing."

"I would be shocked if he did."

Shocked is an understatement. I'd probably throw every possible thing close to me at him. As much as I know myself, I'd start to cry, not let him touch me, figure out how to—okay no. Before I even let myself think about what I would do, I should wait until he gets home so we can talk.

That is what adults do—or should do, at least. They talk and solve problems. They don't work on a plan as to how to leave the house without the spouse noticing.

As we reach the house, Mrs. Whinebrook is kind enough to help me with Allie and the stroller. Not that I really needed help, but I like Mrs. Whinebrook's company. As long as I'm not all alone, I won't overthink this.

We sit on the porch, talking for a little while. She tells me all about her daughter and how hard it was letting her go. She's nineteen now, or so Mrs. Whinebrook says. She went to college a year ago, but seemingly quit, which is why she's moving back home.

It's nice hearing about how excited Mrs. Whinebrook is for her daughter to come back, yet I can't stop thinking about what it'll be like once Allie is old enough to do the same. Time passes far too fast, in a blink of an eye, she'll be able to speak, walk, go to school, graduate, move out. The thought alone could make me cry.

"Would you like to come inside, Mrs. Whinebrook? It's getting a bit cold," I ask, giving her a warm smile.

"Oh, I would love to, but your husband never invites people inside. I only ever see the same coming to visit."

I chuckle because she's right. We don't have any other visitors except for the same ones. And Lisa, apparently. Though, Mrs. Whinebrook says, Lisa doesn't seem to be that unexpected here. "I'm not my husband now, am I?"

"I wouldn't want you to get in trouble, darling."

"Trouble?" My forehead wrinkles, eyebrows draw together in confusion. "I wouldn't get in trouble for inviting you in. Or ever, really. Atlas isn't half as bad as everyone thinks."

"I'm not sure about that, darling," she says with a slight smile.

I'm confused. What is she talking about? "Atlas isn't the asshole to me that he is to everyone else." I'm not sure if she's truly concerned for me, or just being weird about my relationship to my husband. God, does she think he made me his personal maid or something?

"Very well."

We walk inside the house and I show Mrs. Whinebrook to the living room where we take a seat. Well, me after offering her something to drink, or eat, or anything her heart could desire.

Allie is asleep, or at least tries to sleep without complaining. I laid her down on the couch, not wanting to wake her up with carrying her god knows where.

"I didn't think it would be this...light in here."

I laugh because I remember thinking the exact same when I first came here. Atlas scream darkness, of course one expects dark walls, black furniture. But nope, the exact opposite.

"Are you sure he wouldn't get upset with you for me being here?" Mrs. Whinebrook asks, again.

I shake my head. "Atlas doesn't get mad at me. Believe me, I've tried to press the boundaries to find out what I can and cannot do. He is pretty much accepting of anything I do."

She hums, approvingly, I think. Mrs. Whinebrook isn't one to judge. At least she never appeared that way. I always thought she was nice and genuine. Like older ladies are. Okay, she's not that old, almost fifty. Or so she told me.

Anyway, we keep on talking for a little while. Mostly about the raised prices in grocery stores and how snobby all these people were at the charity.

She's a great distraction, but the thought of Atlas and Lisa together is still in the back of my head. I shouldn't have left. Without me being there, she can do whatever, talk to my husband how ever long she wants and I'd never know.

Allie makes a few sounds, immediately catching my attention with it. I'm not sure why, but whenever she just makes the slightest of sounds, I have the urge to check on her. That can't be healthy, but sue me. I just want her to be okay, not be missing anything.

"Darling, she is just dreaming," Mrs. Whinebrook says with a chuckle, laying a hand on mine to keep me from picking Allie up. "You'll just wake her up if you touch her."

"God," I sigh, "I know. I'm just scared."

She nods understandingly. "I don't miss being a first time parent. It's an amazing experience, but you just get all paranoid. It wears off with the next load of kids." I sure hope so. Actually, I hope it'll wear off with Allie, too. "She couldn't have gotten a better mother."

"I mean, I bet she could have. But I'm trying."

Mrs. Whinebrook shakes her head, still holding my hand in hers. "You're doing a great job, darling."

-♡-

The last time I checked my phone was three hours ago. It was 10 p.m. by then, now it's shortly after one and Atlas still hasn't come back home.

I sent him a few tests back at ten, which he didn't even open. I get he's busy, so I don't take it too personally, yet I still think he should have at least a minute to see if he's gotten a text from me. Perhaps not. I don't know, this is my first relationship ever, that is, if I don't count Nico.

Allie is wide awake, which is really unusual for her. Usually, Alison is fast asleep, maybe cries to be fed but she's learning to sleep through the night. Apparently today is not one of those days.

Since I don't have anything else to do, I decide to give her a bath. She loves bathing, loves to splash water around although I'm pretty sure she barely even understands what's going on. However, washing the tiny bits of hair...that's like entering a room filled with people that are getting stabbed. Her screams could be pretty much equal to those.

She giggles as I pour water over her tiny body, kicking her legs when I tickle her stomach with a soft washcloth. Giggles some more when Taco walks into the bathroom and looks over the bathtub to see what I'm doing. He just keeps on standing there, watching.

Taco is really attentive, especially when it comes to Allie. Sometimes I believe Taco feels as though he has to protect her. I mean, he growls at everyone that tries to enter her nursery—everyone that's not Atlas or me.

I just know they'll be best friends when Allie is a bit older.

When I'm done bathing my daughter, I take her to her room to get her dressed. Another thing she absolutely hates. Putting on clothes seems far too annoying to her. She prefers blankets. They're easier, just a quick wrap around and done. But clothes? It's another Hollywood-movie scream. I really hope that'll stop some time soon.

Once that's done, we cuddle for a short while before I lie Allie into her crib, giving her some space to hopefully fall asleep some time soon. Maybe it's me that's keeping her from sleeping.

Now that she's dressed into her very cute sleep suit, it's time for me to get the hell out of this satin dress. I'm not even sure why that wasn't the first thing I did when Mrs. Whinebrook left.

I walk into the bedroom, being startled when I notice something being off. I can't quite put my fingers on what it is, but something in here is different than it was before we left. It doesn't matter, I just want to get dressed for bed and go to sleep.

When I stand in front of the mirror, looking at myself dressed in only a big dress shirt of Atlas's, I do finally notice what's different.

The bed. "He bought a new one," I mumble to myself, completely shocked. When did Atlas have the time to buy a new bed and have it build up in the bedroom, while also having to take apart the old one? I mean, I guess he had someone do that, but still.

He really spend some time to buy a new bed because the thought of some other women in it before me wasn't the greatest I've ever had. And yet here I am, spending most of my evening mentally making a pros and cons list about whether or not he might be cheating on me.

I can't go to sleep yet, I'll have to wait for Atlas to come home so we can free my thoughts from unwanted ones. Which is exactly why I go back downstairs into the living room, put on a movie and wait.

-♡-

Waiting turned into a me falling asleep and waking up when the front door opens. But, hey, at least I woke up, right? Taco is lying beside me, his head resting on my foot. He's the sweetest dog I've ever met, no doubt.

"Atlas?" I call out with a yawn, hoping he won't immediately stalk upstairs to fall right into bed.

He doesn't. He's right by my side in a heartbeat, leaning back on the sofa. "Sweetheart," he sighs like somethings weighing heavy on his chest. Oh God, he did something he's regretting, didn't he? Like cheat—No. Nope. He did not, I repeat, did not sleep with another woman.

"Are you drunk?" I ask, just to be sure I won't be having an important conversation with someone that can barely even comprehend words anymore.

"I'm not." Atlas pulls me in, pressing a kiss to my lips. He doesn't taste like alcohol, so I'll believe him. There's not much else I can do anyway. "Why aren't you asleep? It's three in the morning."

"I was waiting for you." I notice the moment a tear rolls down my face. Not because I can feel it, but because Atlas's eyebrows draw together and a finger of his wipes underneath my eye. "Atlas, we need to talk."

Any conversation starting with the words "we need to talk" can never end well. We've all been there. There are only two options.

Option number one: the person saying those words is trying to send you to heaven—or hell, for anyone who likes it warm and would rather dance with the devil. And all that simply to tell you they've seen a sock at the beach today.

Option number two: a talk. The talk. The one that says it's over. That you've done something wrong. The heart shattering news.

"Are you okay?" Atlas asks, barely acknowledging the fact I'm wanting to talk about something serious. I nod, but am I really? "Something happened to Allie?"

I shake my head. A tear rolls down my cheek, but as much as I want to ask about Lisa, I don't think I'm ready to receive an answer yet. So what I say instead is; "I saw a video earlier. Of an elderly couple. She was on her deathbed, dying from Alzheimer's and all she wanted was her husband to sing her favourite song to her one last time. He was crying silently, not wanting to let her hear his pain. So he sucked it up and sang her favourite song until she took her very last breath. But the song wasn't done yet, so he continued even though she's already passed. It was really moving, and sad. So sad."

Atlas pulls me up from my lying position and wraps an arm around me, comforting me as I start to cry. It wasn't a lie, I did see a video like this and it was really sad. But that wasn't tonight. However, it still makes me cry, though, now it's mixed with the anxiety of my husband cheating on me.

"Would you do that for me?" I find myself asking. "If I was slowly dying right in front of your eyes, would you grant me one last wish?"

Atlas's face twitches. He looks almost in pain. "Stop talking about your death, Sierra." He shakes his head as if to get rid of the thought. "You're not going to die any time soon, and when you do it's of old age and after me. I wouldn't survive your death."

My heart makes a little jump at his words, and yet I can't help the slide it does down into the flow a second later. I don't understand how he can say things like that and then have Lisa. "Atlas, who is the woman you were with?"

"What woman? I had to greet like a million people today." He holds me a little bit closer, the side of his head resting against mine. It's oddly comforting, and yet I know the storm is about to rise.

He's acting stupid, isn't he? "The one with the black hair. Lisa or something."

"Yeah. Lisa, or something." He shrugs. "She works for me."

And that's where the lying starts. Don't get me wrong, Athena could have overlooked her name. It happens. The source of "she's not listed"...I don't believe it until I see so myself.

However, if Lisa was just an employee, Atlas wouldn't greet her the way he did. He doesn't even look at the people working in his office building. They don't get a hello, good morning or anything at all. Neither would Lisa if she was just and employee.

"And?" I ask, giving him the chance to fill in the wholes. He doesn't. I scoot away from him, just a tiny bit, turning to look right at him. "What else is she, Atlas? She can't be just an employee."

"She is. Just an employee, nothing else."

I look up at the ceiling, blinking away a couple of tears that threaten to escape me. "Then what am I?" I can hear his sharp intake of breath. "What am I, Atlas? What are you doing with me? If she's just an employee, how come she gets special treatment?" My eyes find his—he looks horrified. "How come you go and hug her? You spent fifteen minutes talking to her. You don't even say hello to the employees directly around you. Don't bullshit me and tell me the truth."

"What do you want me to tell you, Sierra? She is just an employee, nothing more. I know you've read the employee handbook. You're well aware of the strict rules of my relationship to my employees."

I snort a laugh. "You're married to one, so I don't think that rule speaks of much volume."

I'm not even sure where all this is coming from. I've never been the jealous type. I always told myself I wouldn't care about my boyfriend/husband having female friends. But...please, Lisa is not an employee, not in the sense he tells me she is. Just an employee.

I'm not saying they're fucking. God, no. I'd rather believe they're taking drugs together every now and then. But all he says, how he acted with her...it all speaks against the word "just".

"Mrs. Whinebrook said she's seen her exit the house a couple of times this week alone. I don't even want to think about the other past weeks." I'm fighting my tears, but so far I'm staying strong. No further tear-mishap.

"Sierra, she works here. At the house." Excuse me? "She stops by two times a week to tidy up, clean the bathrooms, do laundry et cetera."

Oh no, the tears are falling. I promised myself I'd stay strong. "How come I never saw her? I barely ever leave this house. It's been almost a year, and not once did I see her, Atlas."

"Please don't cry, sweetheart." His eyebrows fall, he looks almost hurt. I can tell he wants to reach his hands out, touch my face and wipe my tears away, but he doesn't. "You're usually still asleep when she comes over. She doesn't enter the bedroom, that's ours. I'm not letting anyone but you and me in there. By the time you wake up, she's already gone."

"Why didn't you inform me?" He had no reason to keep that from me. I had wondered how this house is so clean when Atlas barely ever has time, and the little amount of cleaning I tried doing while pregnant wasn't going to do much. Having a housekeeper wasn't going to surprise me.

"Because she's not just a housekeeper. I owed her a job, a well paid one. I had no idea how to tell you about it without you thinking..."

"Thinking you're cheating on me?" I fill in, chuckling. "Didn't work. I still thought it. Well, for a moment and then I refused to believe that and hoped you're a serial killer and she's the next up on the list."

"Can I hug you?" His question catches me off guard, bringing a short moment of shock to life. I shake my head, not because I don't want a hug, but because I don't function properly right now. But the pain-filled "okay" that follows...that one breaks my heart into a million pieces.