My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 06

My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 06

After Crystal came back, Derek paid even more attention to him.

Every morning before leaving the house, he’d talk to him for ten minutes. First thing when he got home at night, he’d go play with him.

He called it “stress recovery.” Said the bird had been traumatized and needed to rebuild his sense of security.

I didn’t stop him.

Because I’d noticed something—that parrot had changed.

He still talked, but what he said was different.

When Derek played with him, he’d say “good,” “nice,” “awesome.” Every now and then a “mommy” would slip out—stuff from the academy’s training.

But when Derek wasn’t around, what he said to me was different.

“Get out.”

One word. Short, like it was being squeezed out of his throat.

That afternoon, I was folding laundry on the couch.

The parrot in the cage tilted his head, looked at me, and opened his beak.

“Get out.”

I looked up at him. “What did you say?”

“Get out. Get out. Get out.”

Three in a row.

Then he shrank back into his corner and tucked his beak into his feathers, like nothing had happened.

I knew that was Holly.

She was testing me. Trying to find out where my line was.

I didn’t respond. Not because I was scared. Because I was waiting.

The next day, Derek came home from work. As he was taking off his shoes, the parrot suddenly spoke.

“Derek Vance.”

Clear as day. Three syllables.

Derek froze mid-motion.

He turned his head to look at the parrot in the cage. His face changed.

“What did you just say?”

“Derek Vance,” the parrot said again.

His face went white.

Because he knew—Holly never called him by his full name.

She called him “Derek.” Never the last name.

“Derek Vance” coming out of that parrot’s mouth was a result of the academy’s looped playback training. Three words Holly had been forced to memorize inside that mirror cage.

He whipped his head around to look at me.

“You heard that?”

“I heard it.” I sat on the couch, flipping through my magazine. “He’s a fast learner, isn’t he?”

“He’s never said that before.”

“Just because he’s never said it before doesn’t mean he never will. You’re the one who said parrots were smart.”

He stared at me for a long time. So long the air felt thick.

Then he walked to the coffee table, crouched down, and faced the cage. In that soft voice he only used with Holly, he said, “Crystal, it’s Daddy. Say ‘Daddy’.”

The parrot tilted his head and looked at him.

“Derek Vance,” he said again.

Derek’s face went completely white.

He stood up, grabbed his phone, and went out to the balcony.

I heard him on the phone, voice low.

I only caught a few words. “Something’s wrong.” “You think she knows?” “Come take a look.”

The “you” he was talking about—that was the psychic.

In my past life, that psychic had helped Holly transfer her soul into the parrot’s body. In this life, Derek was calling him to come “take a look” at me. To see how much I actually knew.

I put down the magazine and touched my belly.

“Baby,” I whispered, “Daddy’s on the phone calling for backup.”

I picked up my phone and texted my mom. “Mom, is Dad free next week? I want to come stay for a few days.”

My mom texted back three question marks in under a second.

I didn’t explain.

But I knew—if Derek dared to bring that psychic here, I was going to show him what “backfired” really meant.