Early Grave

Remi’s POV

I knocked softly before pushing the door open.

“Mrs. Isolde?”

The room was warm, the soft scent of lavender filling the air. Mrs. Isolde was propped up in bed, a thick blanket draped over her legs. Her silver hair was brushed neatly, and despite her frail appearance, her eyes were sharp as ever.

Larry and Laura were already inside.

The moment they saw me, Laura gasped dramatically, throwing her arms in the air. “Mummy! You’re finally here!”

Larry, less dramatic but just as pleased, adjusted his glasses. “We thought you got lost.”

I sighed, setting my bag down. “I was working.”

Laura pouted. “You always work.”

Mrs. Isolde chuckled. “Let your mother breathe, my dears. Come, come.” She patted the space beside her. “Let’s talk.”

I hesitated for a second before walking over.

Mrs. Isolde watched me closely as I sat down. “You look tired, dear.”

I smiled, brushing it off. “Just a long day.”

She hummed knowingly. “I hear you’ve been quite the talk of the town lately.”

I stiffened. Of course, she’d seen the news. The photos of me and Rowan at the yacht party, the scandal surrounding his broken engagement, the whispers tying my name to the Vaughns once again.

Larry, being the observant one, quickly changed the subject. “Grandma Isolde, did you know Laura lost her tooth?”

Mrs. Isolde gasped dramatically. “No! My dear, let me see.”

Laura grinned widely, showing off the small gap in her teeth. “It fell out at school! And I put it under my pillow, and the Tooth Fairy gave me twenty whole dollars!”

Mrs. Isolde laughed. “Twenty dollars? My, my, the Tooth Fairy is very generous these days.”

Larry scoffed. “That’s because Mummy felt bad and gave her extra.”

Laura stuck her tongue out. “You’re just mad because I got more money than you did.”

Mrs. Isolde chuckled before turning her gaze back to me. “You’ve done a wonderful job with them, Remi.”

I smiled softly, my chest tightening. “Thank you.”

She reached for my hand, her grip surprisingly firm. “But I worry about you.”

I swallowed. “You don’t have to.”

She sighed. “You’re carrying too much on your shoulders.”

I forced a smile. “I can handle it.”

Mrs. Isolde studied me for a moment, then shook her head. “Stubborn girl.”

Laura, ever the innocent troublemaker, piped up. “Mummy is also grumpy these days.”

I shot her a look. “Laura.”

“What?” She giggled. “You are.”

Mrs. Isolde smiled. “Then it’s time we make her smile more, don’t you think?”

Larry and Laura nodded enthusiastically, and I sighed, already knowing I was outnumbered.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered. “I surrender.”

Laura grinned, grabbing my hand. “That means you have to laugh at all our jokes now.”

Larry pushed his glasses up. “That’s not how jokes work.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “It is when I’m the one telling them.”

Mrs. Isolde chuckled, reaching out to pat my cheek. “There it is.”

I blinked. “There what is?”

She smiled. “A real smile.”

I exhaled, shaking my head. “It’s been a long time.”

Mrs. Isolde squeezed my hand. “I missed you.”

The words sent a warmth through my chest. I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek, then another along her jaw. “I missed you too.”

She cupped my face gently, her eyes kind. “How are you, my dear?”

I hesitated for a second before sighing. “Tired. Busy. Trying to keep everything from falling apart.”

Mrs. Isolde hummed, stroking my cheek. “Still carrying the world on your shoulders, I see.”

I gave her a half-smile. “Some things never change.”

“Maybe it’s time they should.”

I didn’t respond to that.

Instead, I shifted, settling more comfortably beside her as we caught up.

She asked about the twins, about the research facility, about my work. She listened, nodding, occasionally giving me one of those wise looks that told me she saw more than I was saying.

And, for the first time in what felt like forever, I laughed.

Really laughed.

Larry, in an attempt to “fix” a lopsided chair, had nearly knocked over a lamp, while Laura insisted on showing off her “interpretive dance” skills, which mostly consisted of dramatic twirls and exaggerated facial expressions.

Mrs. Isolde laughed along, shaking her head fondly. “Oh, how I’ve missed this.”

I rested my head against her shoulder. “Me too.”

For a while, it felt like old times. Like things weren’t so complicated.

Until Mrs. Isolde sighed dramatically, leaning back against her pillows. “Of course, my peace was briefly interrupted this morning.”

I lifted my head. “Interrupted by what?”

She pursed her lips. “A terrible guest.”

I frowned. “Who?”

Mrs. Isolde gave me a pointed look.

“Gigi.”

I frowned. “Georgina? Like Rowan’s kinda ex?”

Mrs. Isolde sighed, rubbing her temple. “Unfortunately, yes.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Why is she coming here? What does she even want?”

Mrs. Isolde exhaled slowly, like she was already exhausted by the mere thought of Gigi. “She’s been dropping by ever since the engagement was called off. Pretending to be concerned about me.” She wrinkled her nose. “As if I don’t know exactly what she’s trying to do.”

I tilted my head. “And what is she trying to do?”

“Manipulate,” Mrs. Isolde said flatly. “Convince me to speak to Rowan on her behalf. Spin some sob story about how hurt she is, how much she loves him, and how she’s the only one who can take care of him.”

I wrinkled my nose. “And you haven’t thrown her out yet because…?”

She smirked. “Because I like watching her fail.”

I laughed. “You’re evil.”

“Not evil, my dear,” she said, amused. “Just old enough to know when someone is full of bullshit.”

Larry gasped. “Grandma Isolde, that’s a bad word!”

Mrs. Isolde waved a dismissive hand. “At my age, I can say what I want.”

I snorted, shaking my head, but my amusement faded as I sighed. “I don’t want to be here for that, though.”

Mrs. Isolde hummed, watching me closely. “Then don’t be.”

I raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

She patted my hand. “Go to the other room. Let me handle her.”

I hesitated. “You sure?”

She smirked. “I insist.”

I exhaled. “Fine. But if she starts crying, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Mrs. Isolde chuckled. “Deal.”

Just as she was about to say something else, the doorbell rang.

Laura gasped dramatically. “The witch is here.”

Larry sighed. “Laura, stop calling people witches.”

I sighed, already regretting my decision to stay even in the house. Mrs. Isolde, however, looked entirely unfazed.

“Come along, dear,” she said, nodding toward the hallway. “Let’s get you out of sight before she sees you.”

I followed her as she led me toward a side room, my stomach already twisting.

Whatever was about to happen, I really didn’t want to be part of it.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Alright, let’s get this over with. What exactly are we fixing?”

Mrs. Isolde pointed toward a small wooden bookshelf in the corner of the room. “This wobbly old thing. It’s been driving me insane.”

Laura gasped dramatically. “A mission! We accept!”

Larry adjusted his glasses. “We do?”

Laura rolled up her sleeves. “Of course we do, Larry. We’re handypeople!”

I chuckled, kneeling beside the bookshelf. “Alright, handypeople. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Larry squatted next to me, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Looks like one of the screws is loose.”

Laura poked at the side of the bookshelf. “Or maybe it’s just old.”

Mrs. Isolde chuckled. “Probably both.”

I sighed. “Alright, tools. Where are they?”

Laura clapped. “Ooooh, I know where they are!”

Larry shot her a look. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!” she argued.

“No, you think you do.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Guys.”

They both went silent, looking at me.

I exhaled. “Can one of you actually get the tools?”

They exchanged a glance before nodding in unison and running off.

I shook my head, watching them go. “Those two…”

Mrs. Isolde smiled fondly. “They keep things lively.”

I nodded, then hesitated before speaking. “Mrs. Isolde?”

“Yes, dear?”

I exhaled. “Do you think… every child needs a father?”

She tilted her head, studying me. “I think every child needs love. That doesn’t always come from the traditional idea of a family.”

I swallowed. “But do you think I’ve done enough? For them?”

Her expression softened. “Remi, those children adore you. You’ve raised them beautifully.”

I nodded slowly, but before I could say anything else, Laura and Larry returned, arms full of tools.

“Got them!” Laura declared proudly.

Larry sighed. “She almost grabbed a toy screwdriver.”

Laura huffed. “It looked real.”

I chuckled. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

As we worked, tightening screws and stabilizing the bookshelf, Laura suddenly spoke up.

“Mummy, do you think we’ll ever have a dad?”

I froze.

Larry frowned at her. “We have a dad, Laura. He’s just… not here.”

She pouted. “But what if he was?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, focusing on the screwdriver in my hand. “Laura—”

“I think it would be nice,” she continued, completely oblivious to the way my chest was tightening. “You work so much, Mummy. Maybe a dad could help.”

Larry shifted uncomfortably. “Laura, stop.”

“What?” she huffed. “I just want one.”

I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Hold on, sweetheart. Let me check if the coast is clear.”

Before I broke down in front of them.

I walked out of the room quickly, forcing myself to breathe. Each step felt heavier as I moved down the hallway, my chest tightening with every thought racing through my head.

I just want one.

Laura’s innocent words echoed in my mind, cutting deeper than they should have.

I barely made it to the bathroom before my composure cracked.

Closing the door behind me, I leaned against the sink, gripping the edges so tightly my knuckles turned white. My reflection stared back at me, eyes already red-rimmed, lips pressed together in a failing attempt to keep it together.

Then the first sob escaped.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut as silent tears spilled down my cheeks.

They deserved more.

More than me constantly running between work and responsibilities, more than a mother who came home exhausted every night, more than whispers and secrets about the father they had never known.

Laura wanted a dad.

And Larry—Larry wouldn’t admit it, but I knew he wondered too.

My chest ached as I tried to pull myself together.

After a few minutes, I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and forced myself to straighten up.

Get it together, Remi.

I splashed cold water on my face, inhaled sharply, and stepped out of the bathroom, ready to rejoin them.

But as I passed the sitting room, I heard something that made my blood freeze.

“…You don’t understand. I need him to believe I’m the only one he can trust.”

Gigi’s voice.

Low. Sharp. Desperate.

I frowned, stepping closer, careful to stay hidden behind the partially open door.

A second voice responded. A man. I didn’t recognize it.

“And if he doesn’t?” the man asked.

There was a pause before Gigi scoffed. “Then I’ll make him. Starting with that old bat.”

My heart stopped.

Mrs. Isolde.

Gigi was talking about Mrs. Isolde.

I covered my mouth, pressing myself against the wall.

The man chuckled. “You’re bold.”

“I’m practical,” Gigi snapped. “If she keeps encouraging him to move on, I lose everything. I’m not going to let some washed-up old woman
stand in my way. I would do what I can to make her see her early grave..”

I clenched my fists, rage simmering beneath my skin.

Gigi wasn’t just manipulative. She was dangerous.

Madness dangerous

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself.

I couldn’t confront her. Not yet.

But I would stop her.

No matter what it took.