Chapter 2: Ghosts from the Past

So I was the richest man’s wife, but all I had to do was change Holly’s diapers.

It was a strange life—married, but not really. I spent my days chasing after Holly, learning how to fold her onesies just right, how to rock her to sleep when she cried. No one ever asked me to cook or clean for Robert. I was just… there. Sometimes I wondered if I’d always be invisible.

When my mother gave birth to my younger brother, I was only eight. My parents worked long hours at the local diner, so I stayed home to care for him. I got pretty good at looking after babies.

I used to make up songs to keep my brother quiet, balancing him on my hip while I stirred soup on the stove. Those years taught me how to change a diaper one-handed and how to get a baby to sleep, even when the house was cold and loud. I guess that’s why Mrs. Carter trusted me with Holly. Funny how the worst parts of childhood can turn into skills.

Mrs. Carter saw how attentive I was to Holly and that I wasn’t after anything. She was satisfied with me and hoped that I’d grow up a bit more and give Robert a son.

She’d watch me from her favorite armchair, a little smile tugging at her lips. Sometimes she’d pat my hand and say, “You’re a good girl, Ellie. Maybe someday you’ll give this family a boy.”

Before I knew it, Holly was three and I was seventeen.

Time slipped by so fast. Holly learned to talk, to run, to laugh at my silly jokes. I was almost grown myself, though sometimes I still felt like a scared kid just playing house.

Mrs. Carter kept pushing Robert to finally act like a real husband, ever since my Sweet Sixteen.

She’d drop hints at dinner, give me knowing looks. “You’re not children anymore,” she’d say. I’d pretend not to hear, but my cheeks would burn every time. I wanted to disappear under the table.

But maybe because we’d been a couple in name only for so long, we just stared at each other. Neither of us could take the first step.

We’d sit across from each other at breakfast, the silence stretching. I’d fiddle with my spoon, Robert would clear his throat. It was like we were both waiting for the other to make a move neither of us wanted.

Mrs. Carter rapped him on the head and called him useless.

She didn’t hold back. “You’re hopeless, Robert,” she’d scold, rapping him on the arm. “At this rate, you’ll be old and gray before you ever figure it out.” She’d shake her head, muttering under her breath about stubborn men.

Robert, embarrassed, got drunk and stumbled into my room. Holly was still asleep in my arms.

He stumbled in, smelling of whiskey and regret. Holly was curled against my side, breathing soft and even. Robert looked at me, eyes glassy, and reached out like he didn’t quite know what to do. I could feel the tension crackling in the air.

He pulled me over to the old couch and tried to kiss me. I pushed his chest, my hand shaking.