LOGIN[Griffin]“This is honestly too much,” Elara whines for what must be the hundredth time, but I still ignore her. “Please, pack that. And that one. In fact, do one thing—pack everything from this designer in her size.”The store manager nods and walks away to relay the orders, while Elara lets out a heavy breath.“I swear to God, if I step into another store after this one, I’m going to kill you.”I can’t help but laugh. “What’s the harm? We’re just shopping.”“Shopping and looting are two very different things, Griffin. You know that, right?”I roll my eyes. “I’m just making sure my wife has everything she needs. What’s wrong with that?”She gives me a look. “My needs don’t include fifty bags of clothes, shoes, and jewelry that I’ll never wear.”“You never know,” I reply, smirking. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”“Unlikely,” she mutters, but there’s no real heat in her voice—just exasperation, which I find amusing.I reach out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You know,
The next morning, I wake up to the fragrance of something really delicious.I sit up, blinking at the empty space beside me where Griffin was supposed to be. The sheets are still warm, though.A small smile tugs at my lips as I get out of bed, slipping into my gown and heading toward the kitchen.Sure enough, Griffin is there, standing by the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants—again—and a white shirt that’s unbuttoned just enough to be distracting. His hair is still damp, and he's humming softly to himself as he flips something in the pan.I lean against the doorway, watching him for a moment."Morning," I say, my voice still a little rough from sleep.He turns, his lips curving into a smile when he sees me. "Morning. I didn't want to wake you, but I made breakfast. Thought you'd need some energy after last night."I raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"He winks. "You know I'm always thinking of you."I roll my eyes, but I can't help the warmth spreading in my chest.He's
[Elara]When Damon finally drops me back at my place, I have nothing left to say to him.I feel so exhausted all of a sudden, I can’t even pretend to hold a conversation. And he knows it too."Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" he asks again, for the third time. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he doesn't want to leave.But I can't let him stay.I need to be alone. To process everything that happened tonight.Everything he said. Everything I heard. Everything I still don’t know what to make of."I'm fine, really," I say, giving him a tired smile. "I just need some rest."He hesitates, his hand still on the door like he’s waiting for me to change my mind. When I don’t, he finally nods."Alright. But if you need anything—anything at all—call me. I'll be here.""Thank you, Damon."I don't wait for him to respond.I just step inside and close the door gently behind me, leaning against it for a moment, my eyes closing as I let out a slow breath.And then, for the first time si
[Damon]I have no idea why I said that.It just slipped out.Maybe because it had been sitting inside me for years, growing heavier with every day I spent with Hannah.And when it finally came out, I realized I should have said it sooner.I expect Elara to react—maybe pull her hand away, or maybe just stay quiet—but she doesn’t do either of those things.Instead, she looks up at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she laces her fingers through mine.“I don’t know about that,” she says softly, almost like she’s trying to be kind. “Hannah was a lot prettier than me. I don’t think you would have preferred me over her at all.”For a second, I just stare at her.Is she serious?Does she really think I’d choose beauty over substance? That I’d marry someone just because she looked good in photos?I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “You really think I’m that shallow, don’t you?”She blinks, like I caught her off guard. “No, I didn’t mean—”“Yes, you did,” I cut in, my voice drop
When I step back inside, Damon is waiting for me by the door, his expression unreadable. "Ready?" he asks. I nod. "Yeah. Let's go."We head back to the drawing room, only to find Beatrice and Archer in the middle of some sort of argument. Although, the moment we enter, they step away, stopping whatever their little tiff was about.Archer is the first to put on a smile and welcome us back. “So, ready for dinner? Trust me, I am. I’m kind of starving.”In the dining room, the tension between Archer and Beatrice continues—and it’s even more obvious now. They sit as far apart as possible. Beatrice takes the head of the table, while Archer sits at the opposite end. They don’t even look at each other, and when they do, it’s only to glare or roll their eyes.I’ll be honest—I’ve never seen Archer act like this. He’s never been the type to openly show disagreement or dislike. If anything, he’s always been the one to smooth things over. The one to tell everyone to calm down and take a walk. Th
I never thought I would feel this bad for any of the Blackwoods.But here I am, feeling as terrible as humanly possible.Now I understand why Damon must have held back—why he didn’t tell me the truth about this. He must have known their condition would make me feel guilty. The fact that it happened because of the car accident—the car I wasn’t even in—makes it even worse.I never imagined anyone could care about Cora and me this much—enough to fall so gravely ill.But I should have known.And now, my thoughtlessness makes me feel like the worst person in the room.At the sight of me, Grandma smiles so big it hurts my heart."Elara, you're finally here, my child." She wraps her arms around me. "It's so good to see you. I never wanted to believe that we lost Cora and you forever. And I didn't." She pulls away, looking down at her husband. "Didn't I always say that our Elara is too strong to just die like that?"Grandpa doesn't respond. There's not even a flicker of movement.But his wife
[Damon]By the time I make it back home, it’s already noon.Lost in my own head, I don’t even realize when I bump into someone.I pull back to focus on the person standing in front of me and realize it’s Johnson, my grandparents’ bodyguard and driver.Before I can say anything, he opens his mouth.
[Damon]I turn around, trying to spot Elara, but all I see are faces that look nothing like hers.It doesn’t help that the lights are still turned off, the darkness making it even harder to find her.“Come on, Elara! Don’t play this game with me now.”My heart… it’s racing so fast I can’t explain i
“Elara,” Mom whimpers. “What happened to you? Why are you being like this?”I roll my eyes. Doesn’t she know this act of hers—playing the caring mother—grew old a long time ago? It sickens me now, the way she’s always tried to manipulate me with those tears and that fake sadness, the kind that come
“Elara has always been patient with you,” Grandma says, sighing heavily. “But you, on the other hand, never gave her the time of your life. Even when she was pregnant, you never cared. In fact, you blamed her for taking advantage of you. But have you ever stopped to wonder why she would want to hav







