Chapter 1

The villa smelled of polished wood and faint lavender, a scent Diana had spent ten years cultivating to make the place feel like home. She stood in the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour as she kneaded dough for Lily’s favorite bread. The soft hum of the radio filled the silence, a gentle backdrop to the rhythm of her fingers pressing into the dough. It was a Saturday, and the late afternoon sun spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across the tiled floor. For a moment, everything felt peaceful, even. She glanced at the clock. Ryan would be home soon. Maybe they’d take Lily to the park later like they used to when she was smaller. The front door creaked open, shattering her reverie. Diana wiped her hands on her apron and turned, expecting to see Ryan’s familiar frame, perhaps with a tired smile after a long day. Instead, she froze. He stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, but he wasn’t alone. A woman trailed behind him, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and a small girl clung to her hand, wide-eyed and hesitant. The air thickened, the lavender scent suddenly cloying. “Ryan?” Diana’s voice came out softer than she intended, a question hanging between them. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t even acknowledge her. He guided the woman and child inside, his movements deliberate, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “This is Selena,” he said finally, his tone clipped like he was stating a fact about the weather. “And her daughter, Rose. They’ll be staying here for a while.” Diana’s stomach twisted. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. Selena offered a small, tight-lipped smile, her eyes flickering over Diana as if sizing her up. Rose peeked out from behind her mother, her small fingers clutching Selena’s skirt. Diana’s gaze darted back to Ryan, searching for an explanation, but he was already moving toward the stairs, gesturing for Selena to follow. “Diana, can you get some blankets?” he called over his shoulder, not waiting for an answer. She stood rooted to the spot, the dough forgotten on the counter. The radio droned on, some cheerful tune that felt mocking now. Slowly, she untied her apron and set it aside, her hands trembling as she moved to the linen closet. Who were they? Why hadn’t he said anything? Ten years of marriage, ten years of quiet respect, of building a life together flashed through her mind. They’d met under strange circumstances, a deal struck with Ryan’s mother, Claire, to erase her family’s crippling two-million-dollar debt. Diana had agreed to stay with him, to make it work. And she had. She’d poured her heart into their marriage, into raising Lily, into turning this house into a sanctuary. They’d been happy, hadn’t they? By the time she returned with the blankets, Selena and Rose were settled in the guest room. Ryan emerged, his jaw tight, avoiding her eyes. “They’ve been through a lot,” he muttered. “Her husband died. Car accident. They need a place to stay.” Diana nodded mutely, clutching the blankets to her chest. She wanted to ask more why here, why now, why them but the hardness in his expression stopped her. Instead, she handed him the blankets and retreated to the kitchen, where Lily sat at the table, her crayons scattered across a half-finished drawing. “Who’s that, Mommy?” Lily asked, her six-year-old voice bright with curiosity. Diana forced a smile. “Just some guests, sweetheart. Friends of Daddy’s.” Lily beamed, oblivious to the tension coiling in her mother’s chest. “Can I play with the girl? She looks my age.” “We’ll see,” Diana said, brushing a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “Finish your drawing first.” The days that followed were a slow unraveling. Ryan was distant, his attention fixed on Selena and Rose. He’d come home late, then spend hours talking with Selena in hushed tones Diana couldn’t decipher. She’d catch glimpses of him carrying Rose on his shoulders or fetching her water, gestures he hadn’t made for Lily in months. Diana tried to ignore it, to focus on Lily and the routines that had once grounded her. But Selena’s presence was inescapable. One afternoon, when Ryan was at work, Selena found Diana in the living room, folding laundry. She perched on the edge of the couch, her posture casual but her eyes sharp. “You know,” she began, her voice smooth as silk, “Ryan and I were inseparable once.” “Back before everything fell apart.” “He’d move mountains for me, you know? Said I was his whole world.” Diana’s hands stilled on a shirt, her pulse quickening. She didn’t respond, but Selena pressed on, undeterred. “We were so in love.” “I thought we’d be together forever.” “Funny how life works, isn’t it?” The words stung, each one a needle pricking at Diana’s carefully built resolve. She forced a vague, “Mm-hmm,” and kept folding, her movements mechanical. Selena watched her for a moment longer, then stood and sauntered away, leaving the air heavy with unspoken implications. That night, Diana watched Ryan from across the dinner table. He was laughing at something Rose had said, his eyes crinkling in a way they hadn’t for Lily in ages. Lily sat beside her, picking at her food, her small face clouded with confusion. Diana reached for her daughter’s hand under the table, squeezing it gently. She’d always believed Ryan loved her, loved their family. Ten years of shared mornings, quiet evenings, and Lily’s giggles had convinced her of that. But now, with Selena’s words echoing in her mind and Ryan’s indifference glaringly apparent, doubt crept in. Later, as she tucked Lily into bed, Diana replayed the past decade. She’d honored her end of the deal with Claire, staying with Ryan even when the debt was long paid. She’d treated him with respect, and built a life she thought he cherished too. They’d been a family harmonious, happy, or so she’d thought. But Selena’s arrival had peeled back a layer of Ryan she hadn’t seen before, a side that favored another woman and her child over his own. Had she been naive all along, clinging to a love that wasn’t real? She kissed Lily’s forehead and turned off the light, the room plunging into darkness. Downstairs, she heard Ryan’s voice, low and warm, talking to Selena. Diana closed her eyes, the sound cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. For the first time in ten years, the villa didn’t feel like home.