Ben was torn between guilt and duty, while Ella began to drift into emotional detachment.
She cared less with each passing day, her focus sharpening on what truly mattered, reclaiming what was stolen from her. She refused to lose on both ends.
"He thinks he can use and dump me, huh? Let's wait and see who laughs last," Ella whispered to herself, even as her chest tightened in pain.
Every morning, Ben would walk past her in silence, their eyes occasionally meeting like strangers who once knew love. The air between them felt heavier with every passing day. What once held warmth now reeked of distance.
Rita, meanwhile, acted like she owned the house the moment Ben and Ella left for work. Her days revolved around endless shopping sprees and lavish indulgence, buying whatever her eyes found pleasing. Every receipt she brought home was a statement and proof of her newfound power, even if it was hollow.
Ben noticed her wastefulness, the unnecessary spending, the arrogance. It irritated him deeply, but he said nothing. He swallowed his anger, letting it burn silently within him. He didn't have a better plan yet, no sure way to rid himself of Rita without placing Ella in harm's way again.
But what disturbed him most wasn't Rita. It was Ella's silence.
She didn't flinch anymore.
No tears. No outbursts. No signs of pain. Just… nothing.
The absence of emotion in her eyes frightened him more than her anger ever could.
Ben's thoughts grew restless, circling endlessly like vultures around doubt.
Is she seeing someone? Who's keeping her heart company now? Why doesn't she care anymore?
The questions clawed at his mind, refusing to let go. Even when Rita sat beside him, talking endlessly about trivial things, his thoughts drifted always to Ella.
She had become the ghost haunting his waking hours.
As the days stretched on, Rita grew bolder. She took Ben's silence as approval, mistaking his distance for love. She redecorated the house without permission, changed the curtains, replaced the paintings, and even ordered the staff around like she was born to command them. Her voice echoed through the halls, loud and grating, filling every corner that once held peace.
Then, one evening at dinner, she leaned closer across the table, her tone deceptively soft but laced with greed.
"My love," she began, her lips curling into a practiced smile, "why don't you just pay her off to sign a divorce, so I can finally have you all to myself?"
Ben froze. His fork slipped from his fingers, clinking loudly against the plate. His jaw tightened, veins standing out in quiet fury.
"What?" he asked sharply, his voice low but dangerous.
Rita blinked but continued, swirling her wine glass lazily.
"I mean… I've done everything you asked. I'm yours now. So leave her and focus on us." Ben added
Ben said nothing after that. He only stared, his silence heavy, suffocating.
Across the table, Ella sat motionless. Her face unreadable, her hands steady. She didn't speak or react. But inside, something cracked, a deep, silent break only she could feel.
Why does he still want me here? she thought quietly, her heart aching as she stared at the man she no longer recognized.
I thought he wanted me gone.
And in that stillness, she realized something painful; sometimes, love doesn't end in hatred. Sometimes, it just fades away quietly until all that's left is silence.
After dinner, Rita stormed into her room, her mind restless and uneasy. The silence between her and Ben gnawed at her nerves. She began pacing, her heels striking the marble floor in rhythmic frustration.
If he claims I'm the one he wants, then why hasn't he sent her away? she thought bitterly.
She stopped in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection, the carefully painted lips, the flawless hair, the designer dress. None of it brought comfort.
She walked back and forth, trying to rationalize his behavior. After a while, she sighed heavily and sat on the edge of her bed, clutching a pillow as though it could hold answers.
"Besides," she murmured to herself, her tone shaky, "she's poor… and works for him at his company. Maybe he's just using her."
A weak smile crept across her face as she nodded, reassuring herself with lies that soothed her ego.
"Oh, Rita… you should've known," she whispered, forcing out a laugh to hide the tremor in her voice. "He's just using her to manage his business."
And with that, she convinced herself everything was fine, unaware that her delusion was only feeding the storm quietly building around her.