Chapter 9: The Woman Before Me
Simone stared at her mother.
For several seconds, she couldn't understand the words.
Not because she hadn't heard them.
Because she had.
And they changed everything.
“His first wife?””
Elaine nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
Simone sat down on the edge of the bed.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
“How?””
Her mother looked down.
“I should have told you.””
The sentence hurt more than Simone expected.
Not because Elaine had betrayed her.
But because she had spent the entire night learning that people around her had known pieces of the truth while she lived inside the lie.
“What do you mean you should have told me?””
Elaine took a deep breath.
“Three years ago, before your wedding, a woman came to my house.””
Simone looked at her.
“Why?””
“She wanted to talk to me.””
“About Andre?””
Elaine nodded.
“Yes.””
Simone felt her hands go cold.
“What did she say?””
Her mother was quiet.
Then:
“She said Andre wasn’t who you thought he was.””
Simone looked away.
The words felt familiar.
Because everyone was saying the same thing.
Karen.
Her mother.
The unknown message.
Everyone except Andre.
Everyone except the person who should have told her.
“What was her name?””
“Rachel.””
Simone whispered the name.
Rachel.
A woman she had never heard of.
A woman who had existed before her.
A woman who had lived a version of the same nightmare.
“What happened to her?””
Elaine hesitated.
“She left him.””
Simone frowned.
“Why?””
Her mother looked at her.
“Because she was afraid.””
The room went silent.
Simone looked at the floor.
“No.””
Elaine reached for her hand.
“Sweetheart.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“I need to understand.””
“I know.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
Elaine’s face filled with regret.
“Because you were happy.””
“That’s not a reason.””
“I know.””
“You should have told me.””
“Yes.””
Her mother’s voice broke.
“I should have.””
Simone looked at her.
“Then why didn’t you?””
Elaine wiped her eyes.
“Because Rachel didn’t have proof.””
The answer surprised her.
“She just told you?””
“She told me what happened.””
“What happened?””
Elaine looked toward the window.
“She said Andre changed after marriage.””
Simone felt a chill.
“She said he was charming at first.””
A pause.
“Everyone loved him.””
Simone closed her eyes.
Because that was exactly how it had been.
“He was thoughtful.””
Her mother continued.
“He remembered everything. He made her feel like she was the only person in the world.””
Simone whispered:
“That’s how he was with me.””
“I know.””
Elaine held her hand tighter.
“But then things changed.””
“How?””
“He started controlling things.””
Simone’s chest tightened.
“The money?””
Elaine nodded.
“The friendships.””
Simone looked down.
“The phone.””
“Yes.””
She swallowed.
“The way she dressed.””
The words made Simone look up.
“What?””
“Rachel said he always had an opinion.””
Elaine’s voice became quieter.
“Nothing was ever enough.””
Simone felt tears building.
Because she knew that pattern.
Not the exact details.
But the feeling.
Always adjusting.
Always trying.
Always wondering what version of yourself would finally make him happy.
“What else did she say?””
Elaine hesitated.
“She said he blamed her for his anger.””
Simone went still.
Just like me.
The thought arrived before she could stop it.
“Did he hurt her?””
Elaine didn’t answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“Mom.””
“She said he grabbed her once.””
Simone looked away.
“Once?””
“Yes.””
“And she left?””
“She tried.””
“What does that mean?””
Elaine sighed.
“She said leaving wasn’t simple.””
Simone understood.
Because it wasn't.
People always asked why someone stayed.
They rarely asked what made leaving so hard.
“The house.””
Elaine nodded.
“The money.””
Simone nodded.
“The fear.””
Her mother looked at her.
“Yes.””
A long silence followed.
Then Simone whispered:
“She warned you.””
Elaine looked down.
“Yes.””
“And you still let me marry him.””
The words came out softer than anger.
That made them hurt more.
Elaine closed her eyes.
“I thought I could protect you.””
Simone looked at her.
“But you couldn’t.””
“No.””
Her mother cried quietly.
“I couldn’t.””
Simone didn't know what to do with that.
Because she was angry.
But she also saw the woman in front of her.
A mother who had made a terrible mistake.
A mother who had been wrong.
A mother who was finally admitting it.
“Did you ever talk to Rachel again?””
Elaine nodded.
“Once.””
“When?””
“After your wedding.””
Simone froze.
“What?””
Elaine looked ashamed.
“She called me.””
“Why?””
“She wanted to know if you were okay.””
Simone stared.
“And?””
“I told her you were happy.””
The room went quiet.
Elaine whispered:
“She said she hoped she was wrong about him.””
Simone looked down.
“I was happy.””
Her mother looked at her.
“I know.””
“And that’s why nobody believed me.””
Elaine shook her head.
“No.””
“But I believed me.””
The words surprised her.
She looked at her own hands.
“I knew something was wrong.””
A tear fell.
“I just didn’t know how wrong.””
Her mother moved closer.
“What are you going to do?””
Simone looked up.
For the first time, she didn't hear fear in the question.
She heard choice.
“I don't know.””
“That’s okay.””
“No.””
Simone shook her head.
“I do know something.””
“What?””
She looked at her phone.
At Andre’s name still sitting there.
At all the messages.
All the apologies.
All the excuses.
“I need to know everything.””
The next morning, Simone woke up in her mother’s house.
For the first time in years, she slept without checking the time.
Without listening for footsteps.
Without wondering what mood Andre would be in.
It was strange.
Peace felt unfamiliar.
Her phone had dozens of messages.
Most from Andre.
*Please talk to me.*
*You know I love you.*
*Don’t let other people destroy us.*
Then one message.
From an unknown number.
*Rachel will meet you if you want the truth.*
Simone stared at it.
Her heart raced.
She replied.
*Where?*
The answer came quickly.
*The coffee shop on Oak Street. Noon. Come alone.*
She hesitated.
Then deleted the word alone.
She didn't need to obey instructions anymore.
She showed Elaine.
Her mother frowned.
“Are you sure?””
“No.””
A pause.
“But I need to.””
Elaine nodded.
“Then I’m coming with you.””
Simone smiled slightly.
“Thank you.””
At noon, they sat across from Rachel.
Simone knew immediately who she was.
Not because she had seen pictures.
Because of her eyes.
They looked tired.
Like someone who had spent years trying to convince people of something they didn't want to hear.
Rachel looked at Simone.
“I’m sorry.””
Simone nodded.
“I’ve heard that a lot.””
Rachel looked down.
“I know.””
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Simone asked:
“What happened?””
Rachel took a breath.
“He was wonderful at first.””
Simone almost laughed.
“Everyone says that.””
Rachel nodded sadly.
“Because it’s true.””
She looked at her.
“That’s why it’s hard.””
“Hard to what?””
“To accept that someone can make you feel loved and still hurt you.””
Simone looked away.
Rachel continued.
“After we got married, he changed.””
“How?””
“He started keeping score.””
Simone frowned.
“Score?””
“Everything I did wrong.””
Rachel’s voice shook.
“Every argument became proof that I was the problem.””
Simone felt her chest tighten.
“He said that about me too.””
Rachel looked at her.
“I know.””
Simone froze.
“What?””
Rachel reached into her bag.
Pulled out a folder.
“I kept everything.””
Inside were printed messages.
Photos.
Documents.
Simone looked through them.
Then she stopped.
One page.
One name.
Andre Hayes.
Another name underneath.
Karen.
But that wasn't what shocked her.
It was the document behind it.
A police report.
Rachel’s hands trembled.
“This is why I left.””
Simone looked at the report.
And read the date.
Three years before her wedding.
Rachel whispered:
“He didn’t just hurt me.””
She looked at Simone.
“He hurt every woman who believed she could save him.””
Simone stared at the papers.
Then Rachel said the words that made her blood run cold.
“There’s something you need to know about the night you got hurt.””
Simone looked up.
“What?””
Rachel pushed one final document across the table.
“He didn’t come home alone.””
Simone looked at the page.
And saw the name.
A name she recognized.
A name that made her heart stop.
*Elaine Hayes.*
Her mother.
Rachel whispered:
May you like
“Your mother wasn’t just warned about Andre.””
“She was there when the first police report disappeared.””
