My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 03

My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 03

I made us a meal. Derek ate in silence.

Halfway through the meal, the parrot in the living room suddenly called out, “Die.”

Derek put down his fork and glanced at me.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s just a bird.”

“I’m not taking it personally.”

He nodded and kept eating.

After dinner, while I cleaned up the dishes, Derek went to the living room.

I heard him talking to the parrot, his voice soft and gentle.

“Crystal, be good. Say something nice.”

The parrot ignored him.

“Come on. Say one.”

“Ugly,” the parrot said.

Derek laughed. “You and that mouth.”

I stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him play with the bird.

That was how he’d been in my past life, too.

More tender with a bird than with his wife. I used to think he just loved animals. Thought it made him kind.

Now I understood.

It wasn’t the bird he was tender with. It was the woman inside the bird.

“Babe.” I walked over. “I’m tired tonight. I’m going to bed.”

“Okay.” He didn’t even look up, just kept running his finger along the cage bars.

Around ten, Derek came into the bedroom.

He’d already showered. His hair was still wet.

“Tessa, let me tell you something.”

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I have a business trip next week. About four or five days.”

In my past life, he’d said the same thing at the same time. Four or five days turned into a full week.

“Okay,” I said.

“Keep an eye on Crystal for me. Don’t get mad at him. He’s just a bird. Pretend you don’t hear the things he says.”

“I know.”

He reached over and touched my head. “Have you been feeling down lately?”

“No.”

“Good.” He turned off the light. “Sleep early.”

I didn’t sleep.

In the dark, the cage rustled.

He was moving around.

I rolled over, turned my back to the cage, and slid the protection talisman out from under my pillow. Held it tight in my palm.

The first half of the night stayed quiet.

Then, in the early morning, I felt a chill.

Not wind from the window. A cold that seeped down from above my head, like someone pouring ice water slowly over my crown.

I didn’t move.

Kept my breathing steady.

The cold got heavier. I squeezed the talisman harder.

And then—

Hiss. Like something had been burned.

The cold disappeared instantly.

The cage erupted with thrashing.

Wings beating against metal bars, sharp and loud in the dark.

It went on for maybe fifteen seconds. Then silence.

I opened my eyes slowly.

Moonlight slipped through the gap in the curtains.

That gray shape in the cage was huddled in the corner, feathers puffed up, chest heaving.

It wasn’t coming out again.

I rolled over, tucked the talisman back under my pillow, and closed my eyes.

Slept great.

The next morning, when I got up, Derek was already in the kitchen.

He had his coffee. His phone was on the table in front of him.

When he saw me come out, he locked the screen.

“Sleep all right?” he asked.

“Amazing.” I poured myself a glass of water. “You? I saw your office light on late.”

“Just handling some work stuff.”

“Hey, Tessa. Crystal seems off today. Something scare him last night?”

“No idea.” I poured milk into my cup. “I was in the bedroom. Didn’t hear anything.”

“His feathers are all puffed up.” Derek frowned. “Did you scare him during the day?”

I looked up at him. “I scared him?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Just asking.”

“You’re pregnant, and your moods can be a little unstable sometimes. Maybe you raised your voice without realizing it. Birds have sensitive nerves. Easy to startle.”

My fingers tightened around the cup.

This was how he’d been in my past life, too.

No matter what happened, he’d start by finding fault with me.

I got sick because I thought too much.

I couldn’t sleep because I was too sensitive.

The parrot cursed me because I “raised my voice without realizing it.”

“I didn’t scare him,” I said.

Derek looked at me for a couple of seconds, then nodded.

“Okay. Maybe it was the thunder last night.”

There was no thunder last night.

I didn’t call him out on it.

He finished breakfast and went to his office.

After I cleaned up the kitchen and went back to the living room, the parrot flapped his wings in the cage twice.

“Die.”

I ignored him.

“Die. Die. Die.”

Three in a row, each one sharper than the last.

I turned my head and looked at him.

He tilted his head, his gray eyes reflecting my face.

I saw Holly’s shadow in there.

The best friend I’d grown up with. Who stole my husband and wanted me dead.

“Say that again,” I whispered.

He shut his beak and didn’t say another word.