Chapter Three: The Tension Between Us
"Are you okay? You're sweating." I felt a gentle touch as I woke up from my dream.
"Yeah," I replied, even though I knew I wasn't.
"I'm leaving for work. I think you should go too, before your sister my fiancee comes here," Ethan said, adjusting his tie. He was already dressed for the day. I stood up and moved closer to him.
"Are you scared?" I asked, teasingly. "Or do you regret it?"
"You are Rachel's stepsister. You know we're getting married soon. Why would you do that to her?" His voice trembled slightly.
I smiled. "Who is her sister? I'm Erica, who took over her body. Do you think the real Nora has the courage to sleep with you?" I murmured.
"What did you say?" he asked, confusion etched on his face.
"I said I love you. Do you even enjoy being with Rachel?" I pressed.
"She is my fiancee," he replied, looking at me with uncertainty.
"Do you really want to marry her because it's an arranged marriage? Do you even love her?" I challenged.
"Yeah," he nodded, but I could see the doubt in his eyes.
"Alright," I said, dressing up and grabbing my bag as I walked past him, leaving him standing in the room. Yesterday, I thought my mission was accomplished, but I didn't realize I had failed.
I entered the taxi, watching as we passed Rachel's car heading into Ethan's mansion. When I got home, I found my stepmom inside.
"Where are you coming from? You didn't sleep in the mansion," she asked, her tone accusatory.
I tried to walk past her. "Did you know you've grown wings since you came back from the coma?" she said, eyeing me.
"Really? Do I have to tell you where I'm going?" I shot back, heading into my room.
"Is this how they question Nora?" I murmured to myself as I sat down.
I went to the kitchen to make breakfast.
"Why are you in my kitchen?" my stepmom demanded.
"You mean my parents' kitchen?" I retorted.
She looked at me, astonished. "My parents built this house together. You are just a mistress who got married to my dad by having a child for him," I said defiantly.
"Nora!" she yelled, her face flushed with anger as she tried to slap me. I caught her hand, holding it tightly.
"Don't you ever think of touching me," I warned, throwing her hand away and picking up my food as I walked away.
Throughout the day, my stepmom complained, insisting I was possessed.
That night, Ethan and Rachel planned to have dinner at our house. Her mom and brother were already there, enjoying themselves. I emerged from my room, and to my surprise, I saw my stepmom struggling to lift a glass of tea. Ethan's eyes were fixed on me.
I smiled at him as I walked past them.
"She is so rude," I overheard Rachel say.
She only had two days left until her marriage with Ethan. Even if we weren't on good terms, I was expected to attend the wedding.