Amaris glanced at me briefly before turning away, her steps light, almost skipping with excitement.
I narrowed my eyes, watching them through the small gap, every movement under my scrutiny.
Silas turned back, his gaze slithering over every inch of my home like a filthy autumn insect.
A smug, unrestrained smile twisted across his face, one of ownership and satisfaction.
Amaris’s retreating figure trembled slightly, whether from excitement or shame; it was hard to tell.
But this was my home.
That woman, still my wife in name, had just shamelessly flirted with another man.
My throat tightened, the sensation of fire building within me.
I began coughing again, this time violently, stars dancing in my vision.
"Silas, let’s move farther. It’s too noisy here," Amaris’s voice floated in from outside, laced with impatience and scorn.
Silas’s voice, lazy and dripping with disdain, followed, "Let him sleep. Sick people need their rest. It’ll be quieter for us outside."
Their footsteps faded and the room fell into silence once more.
Only my labored breathing served as a reminder that I was still clinging to life.
Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open. Caelum had returned.
Caelum, my child with Amaris, at least, that’s what I had always believed.
But in my last life, the words I overheard in my final moments had cast a shadow of doubt.
"Dad, where’s Mom?"
Caelum pushed open the door, scanning the house, impatience clear in his voice.
"She had something to do and went out."
"Has Uncle Silas come yet? The school keeps asking for a parent and you’re an embarrassment looking like this. What am I supposed to do?"
Caelum tossed his school bag onto the table, frustration seeping from him.
His words hit me like a cold splash of water and I understood.
Amaris must have told him about Silas moving in long before.
In my past life, I had fretted over how he might react, even trying to explain things to him.
Now, I saw how utterly pathetic and futile those efforts had been.
My heart sank deeper, settling in a pit of cold realization.
Since you were all so determined, just wait and see.
In the days that followed, though I had stopped drinking the medicine, I continued to play the role of the helpless patient.
I pretended to be weak, even telling Amaris and Silas that I was too frail to leave my bed.
Amaris’s eyes sparked with brief excitement when she heard, but she quickly masked it, replacing the glint with a concerned frown.
Silas played along, too, suggesting he might take me to a hospital in the city.
Of course, he never made a single move to do so.
That day, Silas was in the courtyard, moving things with loud, strained grunts that echoed through the air.
"Amaris, come help me out. Pass me a towel."
Silas’s voice called out, rough and demanding.
Amaris hurried over, clutching the towel and wiping the sweat from his face with tender care.
Her tenderness stirred something strange within me.
"Brother Silas, slow down. It’s heavy. Don’t strain your back," she murmured, her voice soft, drenched in concern.
From my bed, I could only watch their shadows dance against the window, each movement accompanied by sounds that scraped at my nerves.
Then, with a sudden burst of strength, Silas grunted a beastly sound.
The harsh scraping of the water jar being shifted echoed in the stillness, followed by a heavy breath as Silas swung his arms, sweat flying from his body.
"Ah..." he sighed, dragging the sound long.
"A house without a man to hold it together is nothing but chaos, utterly disordered."
His voice wasn’t loud, but each word landed like a hammer against my chest.
