Betrayed By Husband, Stolen By Brother In Law

"She’s coming home tomorrow."

The older man looked up from his work, his hands stilling over the papers as he turned toward his wife in surprise.

"So soon?" he asked, his voice laced with cautious hope. "Does she really... hold nothing against us?"

Marianna gave him a small, sad smile. She stepped closer and gently rested a hand on the back of the chair, her fingers curling slightly around the edge.

"No," she said quietly, almost apologetically. "I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up like that. I should have worded it better. What I meant was... Melanie is coming over tomorrow, but it’s not personal. She’s coming in a professional capacity."

She paused, drawing in a breath as though the next words needed to be measured carefully. Then she took a few slow steps forward and added, more deliberately now, "I don’t think she recognised me, at least not yet. If she does recognise you... I don’t know how she’ll respond. There’s no way to tell."

Her eyes wandered to the shelves on the side wall, then back to her husband. "I was thinking," she continued, voice lower now, "maybe I’ll place a few pictures of just the two of us in this room. Nothing with Melody, of course. Just you and me—vacations, dinners, maybe that old anniversary photo we both liked. I’ll tell her you’re my husband. That much is still true."

He gave a small nod, his brow furrowed in thought, even as he felt his heart ache. He did not like this way of going about in circles. He would rather have a direct confrontation with his daughter. "Okay. You do that." Then, after a pause, he added, "But... how about I stay here? In this room. Just quietly."

Marianna looked at him, unsure. She hesitated, the idea settling heavily between them. "You want to stay here? During the visit?"