16
Eden
We change in the same gas station bathroom from before. Then Lianne drops me off at my house. When I look back at the car one last time before I go in, Lianne brings her index fingers to her lips, giving me a silentshhas she winks before taking off down the driveway.
Discomfort blankets me as I open the door. A sense of Samuel knowing what I was up to today makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I try to not let it overtake me, but the sting in my throat makes it hard to breathe.
I gulp down the tears and make my way into the dining room, knowing Mrs. Donovan is waiting for supper with Samuel and me.
As I enter, to no surprise, Mrs. Donovan is sitting in her usual seat next to the head of the table, a glass of wine in her hand and the bottle in front of her. It looks half full as I sit across from her.
She examines me as I pull my seat closer to the table.
“Good evening, Mrs. Donovan.” I keep my head low. “Will Mr. Donovan be joining us tonight?”
“Do you mean my husband or Samuel?” she says flatly as her eyes watch me.
“Father.”
“No, the nurses will be feeding him in his room tonight. He is very tired.”
“I understand.”
“Good evening.”
Samuel’s voice rings through the room.
Instantly feeling guilty, I jump at the sound.
He rounds the table, coming straight to me. “How was my Eden’s day?” After placing a kiss on the top of my head, he wraps himself around me from behind. He inhales my hair deeply, and the tension in his muscles release. “Was Lianne a fine example? Did she go over the role of being a wife?” He holds me a moment longer but lets go and takes the seat at the head of the table as plates come out of the kitchen for dinner.
“My day was good. Lianne showed me how she keeps the house for Mr. Wellingburg and the errands she runs.”
Housekeepers place our food in front of us.
Mrs. Donovan taps her glass, letting them know she wants a refill.
I don’t know why, but annoyance brews in me at the gesture. She has the bottle right in front of her. She does this with a lot of things. It’s something that has always bothered me, but I have never felt this simmer in my gut.
“That’s for the lower levels in the community. Ones with no real power. Their wives have to do those things.” She grabs at her glass. “Wives to the leader, to the council.” She takes a sip, then sets the wine glass against her cheek, almost hugging it to her as she keeps her glossy stare at me. “Those wives don’t do chores or housework. Those are not the thingsyouwill do.”
“Mother?” Samuel says.
I won’t be one ofthosewives. I’m not at a lower level, so I won’t be. That would mean I have to marry someone of status due to my part in the Divine Vessel’s family, but I don’t weigh my options on who that might be. There are only a handful of council members, and each has a son or two.
Why haven’t I thought about this sooner?
Why hasn’t anyone, especially Samuel, brought this up before?
Samuel must see me connect the dots because he grabs my hand. “Don’t overthink it. You will know who when the time is right.” He gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it. “I hope sooner than later.”
When I go to question further, he holds a hand up. “Eat, Eden.”
Closing my mouth, I pause, feeling Mrs. Donovan’s eyes burning through me the whole time.
The rest of the dinner is pretty quiet, even from Samuel, who usually wants to hear every little aspect of my day.
It isn’t until Mrs. Donovan excuses herself from the table that Samuel’s demeanor shifts from the stone-cold expression and clipped words to the smiley brother I know and love.
