Once again, Roderick offered to have Curtis drive me. Yet, I refused without hesitation. “Mr. Campbell, I’ll stay out of your life and won’t be any trouble.”
I was simply echoing the warning he had given me earlier.
…
Back at my rented apartment, Danny seemed a little downcast as he asked, “Mommy, do you think that man and woman from earlier don’t like me?”
He was smart and sensitive, so he picked up on everything.
I ruffled his hair and said, “Of course not. They don’t dislike you.”
The only one Roderick and Francesca hated was me.
Danny leaned into me, his small body nestled close as he nuzzled his cheek against my face. “Mommy, I love you the most.”
A warmth stirred in my chest at his words. At least I still had his love.
“I love you, too,” I replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
…
After Danny fell asleep, I received a message from Francesca. She wrote, “Savannah, do you have time now? I’d like to talk.”
Not wanting to get too involved with her, I replied that it would be better for us to communicate through text. But not long after, my phone rang.
“Savannah, I’m downstairs. Can we talk?” asked Francesca.
“I just wanted to ask if you’re planning to leave again. Rick and I both think it’d be best if you built a good life abroad. Your husband is still overseas, isn’t he? Being apart like this isn’t ideal.”
Her words carried only one implication—she wanted me gone.
I couldn’t help but find it amusing. She and Roderick had been married for years, yet here she was, worried about whether I’d leave.
Clearly, he had been thinking the same thing.
I must have gotten under their skin so much that they couldn’t even stand being in the same country as me.
…
Once I made sure that Danny was sound asleep, I quietly shut the door behind me and headed downstairs.
As expected, Francesca was already there waiting.
I had to prepare myself mentally before I could meet her gaze. “I’m not leaving. I’m staying.”
I couldn’t bear to put Danny through another long journey either.
To my surprise, Francesca scoffed. Now that it was just the two of us, she dropped the pretense. Her gaze was cold with unconcealed disdain as she said, “Savannah, I know you don’t have money. Just name your price, and I’ll pay you as long as you leave.”
Nevertheless, I didn’t relent.
Francesca was taken aback, her contempt now unmistakable. “What’s the point of staying? Do you even have your child’s father’s support?
“You should know your place. Roderick and I are married. Even if you stick around, it won’t change anything. Life here will be hard. Why not just go back—”
I raised my voice and interjected firmly, “I told you. I’m not leaving. This is my decision, and it has nothing to do with you.”
Without saying another word, Francesca stormed off. And just like that, our conversation was over.
…
In the days that followed, I kept searching for a job. But no matter how many interviews I went to, no one ever got back to me.
Eventually, a kind supervisor hinted to me that it was because of Francesca.
That was when it hit me. She was pulling strings to make sure I couldn’t find work here. That way, I’d have no choice but to leave the country.
…
That day, just as I stepped out of yet another interview, the hospital called.
I hadn’t slept the night before and had made an appointment. I needed a prescription for antidepressants.
During the consultation, the doctor remarked that my mental state was concerning. At this point, medication alone wouldn’t be enough. So, they suggested I see a therapist.
I had heard the same advice from doctors overseas. Back then, my depression had been worse.
When I opened the door to leave, I kept my head down and bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” I quickly apologized.
It wasn’t until I looked up that I saw Roderick, with Francesca beside him.
Roderick frowned, clearly not eager to talk. But as he turned to walk away, his eyes landed on the medication in my hand.
“Savannah, what are you here for?”
