PROLOGUE: HOME RUN
song of the chapter: notice, little mix

Indiana Carter has the perfect life. She owns her own house, she has been working in her profession for half a decade and is slowly working her way up the hierarchy. She has a weekly routine that she follows expertly, and she has a long-term boyfriend who she suspects might turn into her fiancé very soon. Indiana is satisfied with all that she's achieved in her twenty-six years of life.

She believes for a long time that she doesn't have a need to worry about her future, that she is set with the life she has built for herself and Hugo. She loves him dearly, both as a partner and a person. He is kind, and he always buys her flowers every Sunday. Her favourite perfume never runs low enough for her to worry, and her clothes are always dry cleaned.

Hugo is the perfect man, and his hand fits in Indiana's like a glove. The only thing missing is the rock on her finger.

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an understatement. It's not like it's a big deal, but recently, Hugo has been... off. It's almost like he's absent even when he's right there, and it's making Indiana feel sick. She doesn't understand the sudden change in his behaviour, and she can't pinpoint where or when it started. Just one day he came home from work and he was... quiet.

Too quiet. Indiana doesn't trust it, so she does the only sensible thing. She starts looking.

It starts off small, barely noticeable. She checks his following count on all his socials, but it doesn't move. She checks his jacket pockets, but the only thing she discovers is gum wrappers and receipts. In his the drawer of his bedside table, she finds a self help book and condoms that are gathering dust- it's been that long.

Eventually, Indiana begins to think that she might be going crazy. Hugo's behaviour only gets more abnormal, but still, she doesn't have any reason to distrust him. Her flowers are still fresh, her trousers are crisp and clean, but the feeling persists.

Still, Indiana tries to put this behind her. She tells herself that it was all in her head, that Hugo hasn't really given her a reason not to trust him. Maybe he's just picking up extra hours at the office, or maybe he's finally planning his elaborate proposal- even if Indiana has made it clear for years that something public and extravagant is the last thing she wants.

In the aftermath of her delusional meltdown, Indiana forgives him. She isn't quite sure what for, but even as she tries to move past it, she knows that something hasn't been right. She forgives him anyway, because after that happened with Athena and Michael, she decides that when Hugo is ready for her to know, she will know.

He has always been fiercely loyal to her and to their relationship. Any time a woman has tried to hit on him, he has made it abundantly clear that he is off the market. He has a picture of them as his lock screen, and there is a polaroid of them in his wallet. He wears the watch that she bought him with pride, the private engraving just for them on the back, and he gushes about how grateful he is for his Indiana and all that she does for him.

The more she thinks about it, the less plausible it seems for him to be disloyal to her. The guilt eats at her day by day, breaking her conscience down into pieces, and Indiana feels sick over her own actions. Hugo had done nothing to convince her that she shouldn't trust him, but her own mind twisted her thoughts and turned them into something that they aren't.

She comes to the decision that she must confess to Hugo. She needs to tell him that she's sorry for not trusting him, that she searched his belongings and violated his privacy. She needs him to know that he is the only person she longs for, and she just needs that reassurance every once in a while that he feels the same way. He might show through gifts, but it has been a while since Indiana has felt wanted.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Its a Saturday afternoon and Hugo is out with his friends playing golf. Indiana has the rare weekend off of work, so she decides that today she will tell him about her terrible behaviour. She will apologise and beg for him to forgive her, because Indiana needs him to forgive her. Then she will confess her love for the thousandth time, and if it all goes to plan, the ring in her dress pocket will find its way onto its forever home by the end of the night.

She's been slaving over this carbonara for too long, still thinking of the way the pancetta felt as she cut it into small pieces. She's vegetarian, and even the smell of meat makes her stomach turn, but this is her boyfriends favourite and he deserves it. She picks up the glass of red wine from beside her and takes a long, deserving sip, and glances at the time on her phone.

6:30pm. Hugo should be home any minute.

She removes her apron after plating the meal, making her way over to the dining table to set it. She lights the candles, catching a glance of herself in the mirror as she straightens up. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the heat of the stove, but she looks fine, and hopefully desirable enough that Hugo will say yes.

She hears his key turn in the door and the knots in her stomach tighten, but she takes a deep breath and wipes her sweaty hands on the front of her white dress. Stupidly, she hopes that the white might help him envision her as a bride encourage him to want that as much as she does.

"Babe, you home?" Hugo calls, the sound of his keys rattling following. He enters the room a moment later, a vision of wet hair and skewed clothes. A smile spreads over his face as he takes him the scene in front of him, Indiana at the front and centre of it. "Well well well, what do we have here? You feeling generous, Indiana?"

Indiana feels giddy, a childish grin overtaking her face. "Something like that," she tells him, gesturing to the table. "Come, join me."

He sweeps across the room in two steps, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. "Give me five minutes, I'm a sweaty mess and I don't want to ruin the meal you've made for us."

She nods her head, understanding. "M'kay, just don't take too long, I don't want it going cold."

In all honesty, Indiana doesn't know if she's referring to the dinner or her feet.

Hugo promises five minutes only, drops his phone on the counter, and heads to the bathroom to shower. Indiana paces for the first minute or so that he's gone, so consumed by her own thoughts that she doesn't even notice the frantic buzzing of his phone at first.

It's on the third call that Indiana finally gives in and picks his phone up, staring at the screen in front of her blankly, trying to make sense of what she's seeing.

3 missed calls from Bella.

Who the hell is Bella? Is the first question she asks herself, racking her brain for anyone who rings a bell. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't have to think for long. The phone pings with an iMessage alert, and Indiana's heart drops to the pit of her stomach.

Miss you. When u coming over? Need u now 😘

A picture follows the text, and Indiana feels bile rise in her throat. With a shaky hand, she presses on the small image and enlarges it, but her regret consumes her as soon as she does it. In the middle of the screen, clad in light blue lingerie, is Annabelle.

Her cousin Annabelle.

She drops the phone onto the counter with a loud clatter and stumbles backwards, her vision blurry with tears. How could she have been so stupid, to make herself think that she made the whole thing up. The evidence is staring her right in the face, Annabelle's half-naked body filling the screen and turning her blood cold.

The ring burns a hole in her pocket, like molten lava against her freezing body. It's like the life has been sucked out of her, leaving behind an empty body, and she's frozen in time. Her hand is still clamped in the holding phone position, and Indiana can't move. Her body is paralysed, thoughts racing through her head at a hundred miles a minute.

"Babe?"

Hugo's voice shocks her back to reality, what was once a welcome distraction feels like knives to her chest. She can barely look at him, but she feels him cross the room and put a hand on her chin, forcing her to face him.

"Are you alright, Indiana? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Indiana can barely breathe as she forces her next words out, "You missed a call. Tried to answer them but I couldn't get to the phone in time."

His fingers stroke across her forehead, "That's really not a reason to panic, babe. Did you see who it was?"

"Oh, just Annabelle," she replies, as cooly as she can as she separates herself from him. She takes a few cautious steps back, grabbing her phone from the counter and backing toward the front door. "She sent you a text, too."

The realisation seems to be dawning on Hugo now, and Indiana watches as the colour drains from his face like hers did minutes ago. He steps toward her, but for every one he takes she's taking two, and soon he's got her pressed flat against the front door. She has her car keys in hand now, her other hand on the door handle.

"It's not what you think," he's got this tone to his voice, like she's the one in the wrong. "I swear, Indiana, just let me explain."

Indiana is calm now, because she knows there is absolutely nothing to be done about the situation. She has been raised with more respect for herself than to stay after being disrespected repeatedly. This might be his first strike, but Hugo has hit the home run.

She pushes him back, pulling the ring box from her pocket and throws it across the hallway. "Go fetch like the dog that you are, Hugo. And tell Annabelle that blue isn't her colour, she looks like an anaemic Smurf."

The front door slams behind her as she leaves, and the tears don't spill until she's already pulled out of the driveway. There's only one place for her to go, only one person who understands. The phone rings for a few seconds before being picked up, and Indiana forces her words out through choked sobs.

"Athena, are you home?"