When She Ended It With Divorce (Chiara and Titus) novel Chapter 52

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**TITLE: Silent Roads Remember by Sawyer**

**Chapter 52**

With a furious huff, Titus stormed away, leaving a cloud of tension in his wake. Chiara stood rooted in place, watching as his car sped out of the courtyard and vanished from sight. The moment she could no longer see him, she turned on her heel, her heart pounding with a mix of defiance and frustration. *No way he can control me just because he says so. My legs, my rules,* Chiara thought, a fierce determination igniting within her.

But as she descended the staircase, the air felt heavy with unspoken words, and just as she reached the bottom step, Lindsay appeared, blocking her path like a wall. “Mrs. Goodman, Mr. Goodman specifically said you’re not allowed to leave,” she said, her voice laced with nervousness, her eyes darting away as if to escape the confrontation.

Chiara halted, disbelief washing over her. “You’re going to stop me?” she asked incredulously, her voice rising slightly as she took in the scene.

The other maids, witnesses to this standoff, lowered their heads in silent support, avoiding Chiara’s gaze. Lindsay, caught in a dilemma, looked helpless and distressed. “Mr. Goodman said if you walk out tonight, he’ll fire all of us,” she said, her voice trembling under the weight of her words.

Chiara’s heart sank at the desperation in Lindsay’s tone. “Mrs. Goodman, my younger son is trying to get into graduate school overseas. I really can’t afford to lose this job,” Lindsay pleaded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

One by one, the other maids chimed in, their anxiety palpable. “Please, Mrs. Goodman, we can’t lose our jobs either. We’re begging you, don’t make things harder for us,” they implored, their voices a chorus of fear and concern.

Chiara stood there, momentarily speechless, her mind racing with anger and frustration. *This is total bullshit,* she cursed inwardly, feeling the heat of her emotions boiling just below the surface.

She clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her face flushed with a mix of rage and helplessness. But as she looked at the pleading faces surrounding her, her resolve began to waver. Chiara had always been someone who held onto her feelings—after all, she had spent a decade secretly loving one person. In the three years of her marriage, Lindsay had been a constant presence, not just a housekeeper but a part of her family.

“Mrs. Goodman, we’re really sorry, but we…” Lindsay murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chiara closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I get it. It’s not your fault. I won’t leave; don’t worry,” she finally said, her tone softening.

“Thank you, Mrs. Goodman. You’re really kind,” Lindsay replied, relief flooding her voice. They had worked for many wealthy families before, but most never cared about the well-being of their staff.

Chiara forced a bitter smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle around her. She stood there in the hallway for what felt like an eternity, lost in thought.

“Mrs. Goodman, are you hungry? Should I ask the kitchen to make you some food?” Lindsay offered gently, her concern evident.

Chiara shook her head. “I’m not hungry. You guys go have your meal,” she replied, her voice distant as she turned away.

As she walked back toward her room, her eyes were drawn to the phone resting on the sofa. Just as she was about to reach for it, Lindsay’s voice stopped her. “Mrs. Goodman, before Mr. Goodman left, he made us cut the phone line.”

Chiara’s expression darkened instantly. *What does he want now? Trying to keep me prisoner or something?* she thought, her frustration bubbling over.

Lindsay let out a soft sigh, her voice tinged with guilt. “If you need, you can use my phone instead.”

Chiara shot her a look, almost accepting the offer, but then she hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. “Never mind. Titus had you guys cut the phone line, so I couldn’t talk to anyone outside. If he figures out that I used one of your phones, who knows what he’d do?”

“Well…” Lindsay froze, clearly not having considered that possibility. “Then, Mrs. Goodman…” she stammered, searching for a way to help.

Chiara squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to calm the storm within her. “It’s fine, really. I’m just going back to my room,” she said, her voice firm yet weary.

Once she was back in her room, Chiara sank onto the couch, her gaze fixed on their wedding photo that hung on the wall. The image felt like a weight pressing down on her, each passing second tightening her fists and heavying her heart. Suddenly, a surge of anger propelled her from the couch, and she stormed downstairs, her mind set on a singular purpose.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a pair of scissors, her movements swift and purposeful. Marching back upstairs, she took the photo out of its frame, her hands trembling with cold determination as she began to cut it into pieces.

Lindsay opened the door just in time to witness the scene unfold before her. “Mrs. Goodman, what are you doing?” she gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

Chiara remained eerily calm as she shredded the photo, tossing the pieces into the trash with a finality that echoed in the silence. “The photo means nothing but lies and empty feelings. No point keeping it—might as well tear it up,” she declared, her voice steady, though the turmoil within her raged on.

She couldn’t bear the thought of torturing herself by looking at it, feeling like a fool each time. *God, I looked so dumb in that photo, smiling like an idiot. I can’t even stand to look at myself in it now,* Chiara thought bitterly.

Lindsay’s heart raced as she watched, her own emotions swirling. “But if Mr. Goodman finds out, he’ll—”

Chiara set the scissors down and stood up, her expression resolute. “Lindsay, can you just toss out the frame and all this trash for me?”

Lindsay hesitated, her desire to speak her mind evident, but she bit her tongue, letting out a resigned sigh as she began to clean up the mess. She had witnessed Chiara transform over the years, and it broke her heart to see the woman she cared for in such pain.

“Mr. Goodman is going to regret this,” Lindsay said softly, a hint of hope in her voice.

Chiara scoffed, a cold smile twisting her lips as she dismissed the notion. “Titus? Regret something? Has he ever regretted anything in his life?” she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.