Andrew cut off the engine of his car and sat in front of his manor, looking at the large doors, deep in thought.
After Jason suggested he think about the night, he did and found something was really amiss.
Jason was right. How could he mistake Beatrice for Elara? Was he that intoxicated?
Andrew inhaled sharply before he pulled the keys out and stepped out of the car.
He locked the car and walked towards the manor, carefully assessing and repeating the words in his mind.
The sound of some shuffling came from upstairs when he reached inside, and he instinctively looked up, only to see Beatrice walking out with a suitcase in her hand.
His brows furrowed.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
Beatrice looked at him, a bit surprised.
"Andrew, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. How did everything go?" She asked.
Andrew noticed her expression and found she looked weaker than before. And was that a bruise on her face?
"What happened to you?" He asked.
Beatrice instinctively recoiled when he raised his hand. She hadn’t been expecting Andrew to come so soon and thus hadn’t bothered to hide the bruises on her face.
The thought of how her uncle’s friend, Cooper, nearly maltreated her and forced himself on her still made her want to gag and throw things.
But that was what life was like. And for the bigger purpose, she knew she had to do it.
"It’s nothing. I fell in the bathroom," Beatrice lied.
Andrew nodded before clearing his throat.
"About last night..." Andrew trailed off.
He saw the smile vanishing from Beatrice’s face and swallowed hard.
"What about it?" She asked, blinking her eyes.
The man clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure how to bring it up.
But he wanted to be sure that he wasn’t misunderstanding things.
"Did I really force myself on you? I have been thinking about it, and it just doesn’t make any sense to me. How can I mistake you for Elara?" Andrew asked, frustration evident on his face.
Beatrice didn’t say anything for some time. She just kept looking at him before her eyes watered.
"Are you trying to say I orchestrated everything?" Beatrice asked.
A tear rolled down from her eyes, and Andrew’s gaze softened.
"No. No. That wasn’t what I meant. I just want to ask—" Andrew started to explain, but couldn’t complete his sentence when Beatrice shook her head at him.
"Don’t explain. You have already said enough. I can’t believe it. You really think I am so cheap that I would devise my own rape?" Beatrice said, tears streaming down her face as she pointed her fingers at him.
"Andrew Lloyd, you were my best friend whom I was in love with. Are you taking me for granted because I am not pressing legal charges? I am not doing it for you. I am doing it for your parents, who built this reputation that would take a blow if this news went out. I am doing it for my years of love," Beatrice said before she covered her face with her hands.
Andrew’s heart softened, and he stepped forward to hold her hands.
"I am sorry. Beatrice. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just I am finding it really hard to believe I did something so horrible to you and—"
"Don’t touch me! You are unbelievable, Andrew. How can you even come to your victim and ask if you did that heinous crime or not? I have been bashing myself since you left for the meeting, telling myself it was your act of love so I wouldn’t feel terrible about it, and what did I get in return? That I orchestrated everything?" Beatrice asked, her eyes red with remorse and anger.
Andrew shook his head, feeling guilty.
He partially blamed Jason for putting those kinds of thoughts in his head. But he was to blame for believing them.
Jason didn’t know how drunk he was, how battered he was after seeing that photo.
Jason didn’t know that Beatrice’s foot was wounded and that she couldn’t have resisted even if she wanted to.
His strength as a man must’ve left her speechless and helpless.
And like a best friend and an understanding angel, she didn’t even blame him for it.
Even when she was the victim, she had consoled him, telling him that she wouldn’t think too much about it.
And what did he do? Like a pathetic human being, he returned home and started blaming her.
It was the same mistake he had made with Elara, not believing her, and now he was repeating it with Beatrice.
He already lost his wife because of his attitude, and now he would’ve lost Beatrice too.
"I am sorry," Andrew whispered before he fell on his knees, his shoulders shaking in defeat.
"Andrew," Beatrice stepped forward to help him stand, but Andrew shook his head.
"No. I won’t stand until you forgive me, Bea. I am a terrible human being. How could I even think of something like that? It was because I believe what others say so easily that I lost Elara, and now I lost you," Andrew said.
Beatrice shook her head.
"No. Don’t blame yourself entirely. I know what happened was tragic, and it’s hard to come to terms with, but it’s okay. I have forgiven you. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Andrew. You are my best friend, and as I said, I have made myself believe it was your token of love. You once loved me, too, didn’t you?" Beatrice said before she pulled him into a hug.
The man placed his head on her stomach, letting his emotions spill for a few seconds.
"I am really sorry for saying those awful words," Andrew murmured again, and Beatrice patted his head.
She looked at her reflection in the window at some distance and saw how good Andrew looked hugging her. A sense of accomplishment filled her heart, and a smile appeared on her face.
She should’ve been ashamed of what she did, but she couldn’t find herself to be. Instead, she was happy with the outcome.
"Like I said, I have forgiven you." Beatrice hugged the man closer, barely containing her smile, her eyes shining with malice.
She was sure that the person who filled Andrew’s head with doubt was none other than Jason. And now that she thought about it, the man had been hindering her plans for quite a long time.
One more wrong move from his side, and she would have to remove him from around Andrew permanently, unwillingly.
Beatrice smirked.