Chapter 3

[Elara]

The next morning couldn’t have arrived sooner.

The second I wake up, I almost rush out of the room to check on Cora.

After what Dr. Wilson said last night, I have been restless. I still don’t know what’s wrong with my daughter, but that doesn’t do anything to ease my anxiety. My heart keeps thundering, and my chest keeps hurting.

The moment I open the door, I come face-to-face with Damon himself.

I almost forgot about the call he received last night—the call from Hannah that pulled him out of bed faster than any million-dollar project could.

He looks at me squarely, his brows furrowed so deeply that he looks more intense than usual. “What are you rushing to?”

I take a step back, hoping to bring some calm to my face. “To check on Cora. It’s her last day at school before the holidays start. I don’t want her to be late.”

My answer seems satisfactory to him, considering he doesn’t follow it up with another question.

He walks inside—almost into me. “We need to talk.”

“I—” But before I finish—or even start—he grabs my arm, shuts the door, and pulls me back inside. He almost throws me onto the bed, barely giving me any time to gather myself.

“Mom is organizing a family dinner tonight,” he says, not even bothering to look at me. “She might call you with the invite.”

“Got it. I’ll be there on time,” I reply.

Damon might not have taken me to any banquets or business parties, but he never interfered with me attending family functions. It might have something to do with his grandparents. Out of all the relatives in the entire Blackwood family, they’re probably the only people who never gave me a hard time. In fact, they always took my side, always cherished me, and showered me with affection and gifts.

“Honestly, it would be better if you didn’t attend this year,” he says carelessly, standing near the window, eyes on something outside.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. His words hit harder than I expected.

I have no right to deny him. Our marriage hasn’t been the most harmonious one to begin with. We don’t have the kind of relationship where he and I make decisions together. 

What I don’t understand is why he’s so reluctant this time.

Is it because of Hannah?

Maybe he wants to take her instead. Maybe my days of being her stand-in are finally coming to an end…

I nod, hoping to use this time to stay with Cora. She’s the only person who matters to me now. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

He finally turns, his dark eyes zeroing in on me. “Aren’t you curious why I don’t want you to come?”

I don’t know what he wants me to say—the fact that his first love has returned? Or that he doesn’t need me anymore?

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” I say instead, pushing myself off the bed. “If that’s all, I’ll check on Cora now.”

I try to leave, but he grabs me back, almost roughly. “Did I say you could leave?”

I sigh, staring at the way his strong fingers are clasped around my arm. I wonder if he ever realizes how he treats me—as if I don’t feel any pain, or that I might not be as strong or thick-skinned as he believes me to be.

I don’t try to pull my hand free. “What else do you want?”

He sighs, yanking me closer. “You’re surprisingly obedient today. Is this some new trick to get my attention?”

I look at him as if he’s lost his mind—because apparently, that’s all I can come up with in that short period of time. “Just trying to make things easier for you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He dips his head to the side, dark eyes trailing over my face. “You really have nothing else to say?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I pull my hand free, finally, rubbing it subconsciously.

“Nothing at all?”

I blink, confused. “What am I supposed to say, Damon?”

“You’re not even going to ask about last night?”

For a second, my mind blanks. Last night. Hannah. The call. The way he left without looking back. My stomach tightens. “You didn’t exactly leave room for questions.”

He scoffs, stepping closer. “You don't think I owe you an explanation?”

“No,” I whisper. “I stopped expecting those a long time ago.”

His eyes flicker—something unreadable there—but it disappears as quickly as it comes. “Good. Then let’s keep it that way.”

“Fine.”

I turn to leave again, but his voice halts me at the door.

“Elara.”

“Yes?”

“I know you prepared a dress for the dinner in advance. Send it to Hannah. She doesn’t have anything to wear, and it’s far too late to have something made now.”

He doesn’t even look at me when he says it—just tosses the words out like an order, like I’m one of his staff instead of his wife.

I smile to myself, wondering how quickly the times change. There was a time when I used to wear her rejected pieces; now it’s her time to wear mine—even if it’s her way to humiliate me in front of Damon.

“Sure. I’ll send it right away.”