After four years of a loveless marriage, Eleanor is blindsided by her husband Arthur's abrupt decision to divorce her. The convenient arrangement that had suited them both had, seemingly, run its course. As Eleanor struggles to come to terms with the end of their marriage, she can't help but feel discarded - a pawn replaced by Arthur's rekindled flame, a woman from his past. But just as Eleanor is starting to rebuild her life, Arthur drops a bombshell: he wants her back. His reasons are unclear, but one thing is certain - His regret.
view moreELEANOR—
- As I lay on the bed, enveloped in my husband's warmth, I nestle my back deeply into his arms, feeling his gentle grip on my waist as he pulls me closer. Soft, tender kisses dance across my skin, sending shivers down my spine. The blood-boiling sex we shared still resonates, the lingering sensations on my skin and between my legs a reminder of our loving encounter. His arms around me tighten more and his lips press on the bane of my shoulder igniting more warmth in my body. His lips move to my neck where he kisses me passionately and excitedly and then moves to my cheeks where he places the last few kisses before letting his mouth leave me. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want to melt into Arthur and absorb his entirety. Surprisingly this time his touch feels more intimate than before, more secure, and more enthusiastic. It’s not unlike Arthur to touch me or kiss me, but tonight just feels different— different in a way that keeps me satisfied and pleasure-filled. I can feel love from his fingertips. The way his hand remains firm on my waist like a perfect puzzle piece that needs to perfect my body. I lean into him and he collects me even more. The room is silent with only our heavy breathing entertaining the night. I love this feeling, this moment. Our marriage isn’t one for the books, one look at us and a person can tell how distant we are as a married couple. But tonight, I feel like tonight changed things. I can’t explain it in literal meaning but the way Arthur touched me. I’m so glad we’ve become that loving couple I’ve always wanted us to be. To be in our matrimonial home and feel as though we are one. I feel Arthur’s breathing on my neck before he softly calls my name. His thick voice vibrates in his chest. “El,” he calls. He calls me El short for Eleanor and I think it’s the most lovely word I’ve ever heard in my entire life. “Hmm?” I reply gently, matching his tone. I listen to him breathe out another exhausted sigh. “Let’s get a divorce” Arthur adds softly and I pause. I did not hear wrong. “What?” I hear myself asking. My throat starts to feel clogged. “I don’t— I don’t understand” I swallow. “Brianna is back in Manhattan and I think it’s for the best. I am presently preparing the papers.” Brianna? Her name rings a thousand bells but I don’t need a divine entity to tell me she’s the woman she actually wants and not me. I hate how soft his voice is, I hate how coated and calm he’s sounding when he’s brewing such a storm in my ears like this. No one is supposed to sound casual filing for a divorce. A divorce. After all, we just had? I don’t speak— it’s not that I don’t know what to say, I do, But my voice feels like it’s frozen and it’s being stung by thousands of bees. His hands around my waist shift to sit there properly and I realize we’re both naked, in each others’ hands and he is propelling a divorce. What did I expect? I should have seen this coming—No, I did see it coming! Our marriage is like many others - built on respect and a harmonious home life. Though with less intimacy. And I couldn't forget, that this union was a transaction, an arrangement born of circumstance rather than love. I have to remember my position in this carefully constructed life. I shouldn’t get pierced by a divorce I saw coming. I just thought he’d love me enough one day. I have been stupid! What we had was a marriage of convenience, You get what you see and leave. Four years ago while my life was at a crossroads, fate brought an unexpected opportunity to my doorstep: marriage to Arthur Newton. At the time, Arthur was fighting a debilitating battle with severe skin ulceration, a cruel consequence of a malicious act by a business rival who had secretly laced his drink with a harmful substance. The Newtons' reputation had suffered greatly due to Arthur's illness, and his family was willing to pay a hefty price to anyone who would agree to marry him. I knew at the back of my mind that one day we would come to an end and our marriage was only based on materialistic yearning. I’ll never be close to what Arthur had with Brianna, even as his wife, even after four years of being married and being free of his skin illness. Was loving each other only from my end then? I didn’t imagine this, right? I cannot deny my sudden broken heart— shattered even. But this was all for business. I release Arthur’s hand from my waist and get on my feet, pulling the bed’s duvet to cover my naked body. “Alright then” I nod, trying to sound normal. “I’ll await the divorce papers” Arthur’s expression goes stoic. “Where are you going?” He looks at me as if I’m committing a crime but his voice remains careful and warm. “I think I should leave, It will be— “It’s already late, stay for the night, you can leave tomorrow” he adjusts his broad body on the bed, his voice polite and gentle. I nod and avoid eye contact. Gently, I lay back on the bed and try to push the lump in my throat but it’s not working. Arthur turns around with his back facing me and I let my lips quiver. He switches off the night table light and my eyes start to sting in the room’s darkness. We’re both quiet and I try my best not to let my breathing sound haggard. I think Arthur is asleep but I’m proved wrong when he starts to speak. “Eleanor?” His voice is almost like a whisper that I almost didn’t catch. “Yes?” I turn to face his back in the darkness. “Who is Leon?” He asks. I stop breathing. How did he know about Leon? Trying to process my words, my mind, and why and how he knows about a person who seems like a figment of time in my life, clogs my throat, and before I can reply Arthur speaks up. His voice starts to come out solemn and low. “Well, I’m sorry for taking up four years of your life, I hope you will be happy in the future. Goodnight Eleanor,” ——ARTHUR.-I swallow the jealousy burning in my throat as I help Eleanor out of the bath, her skin warm and damp beneath my steady hands. The steam clings to her like a second skin as I wrap a thick robe around her body, securing it snugly against the chill of the room.She’s awake now, but her eyes are glassy, her gaze unfocused, as if she’s moving through a dream. It’s not clear if she knows where she is or who’s beside her — maybe in her mind, it’s not me at all.In the bedroom, she collapses onto the bed, restless, tossing from side to side. Words spill from her lips in half-formed sentences, nonsensical and random… until they’re not.Her hangover will be merciless come morning, and she’ll probably remember none of this, none of the stumbling, none of the bath… none of the moment her voice softened in that drowsy haze and she mumbled a name I’ve grown to despise.Leon.The sound of it still clings to the walls in my head.I hate that bastard. I hate that he’s always one step ahead
—ARTHUR.-I’ve never seen Eleanor this drunk. Not once in all the years we’ve spent together as husband and wife. Not at weddings. Not at rowdy office parties where everyone else is swaying and spilling their drinks. Not even during those rare nights when we were alone and she might have let herself loosen up a little.She’s always so composed, so deliberate about her public image, the type of woman who holds a champagne flute for hours without ever actually emptying it. People probably think she’s allergic to alcohol, the way she avoids even the smallest sip. I’ve never questioned it—it was simply who she was.And now? Now she’s leaning heavily against me, her skin warm and flushed, her eyes glazed and struggling to focus. Her hair is damp from splashes of water she probably didn’t notice. The faint smell of wine clings to her breath. Something’s broken her tonight. Something strong enough to pull her past her own rules. My mind immediately goes to Brianna, to that simmering situati
—ELEANOR-I arrive back at Cassandra’s home with Arthur.He doesn’t let me get out of the car before he starts offering.“You can sleep over if you want I’ll leave, or I can drive you back to Cindy’s. You can make your decision now that my grandma’s not here”I sigh.“Thanks but I feel bad. I don’t think I’ll leave until she gets back. I ruined this dress and if I just leave like that. She’ll hate me”“Again. She’ll never hate you” He says.“Yeah right,” I scoff as I get out of the car.I almost stumble and fall flat on my face but thankfully I don’t. So I take off my shoes and push my heavy body towards the grey house.As I get inside the house I thank the heavens I haven’t left yet because why.. Cassandra has gotten her staff to prepare a bath for me and sleepwear.And if I had left all that and she found out Arthur and I are over. She’ll hunt me down.You can’t reject anything from Cassandra.“Thank you,” I say to one of the maids who watches me with a weird look.“What?” I narrow
—ELEANOR.-I feel bad. So bad. My chest is tight, my face is hot, and my breath comes out in short angry bursts as I scramble to sit up. I ignore Arthur’s stifled laugh and focus on getting my feet steady on the floor of the car. My hands clutch at the ruined silk of my dress, shaking slightly as I realize the damage.This isn’t just a tear. It’s a massacre. The delicate fabric is shredded up to my thighs, threads hanging loose like a cruel reminder of my humiliation.I’ve ruined a million-dollar dress.My fingers tremble as I gather what’s left of it around me. I don’t even have the energy to glare at Arthur anymore.Then Alex climbs into the car. His sudden presence startles me, and before I can say anything, his hands are on my dress— ripping.“What the hell are you doing?!” I scream, clutching the tattered fabric tighter around my body.“I’m helping,” he says flatly, as if he isn’t currently committing a crime against couture.“Are you crazy?” My voice rises an octave. I gape at
ELEANOR—-Despite being the foulest mouth I’ve been in years, Alex Hillcove doesn’t seem to want to leave my side. He hovers like a shadow, all charming smiles and casual remarks, his presence growing heavier the longer I stand here. I’m exhausted. My body aches from holding myself together all night, from smiling too much at people I barely know, from catching glimpses of Arthur across the room with Cassandra laughing too closely at his jokes.If Alex had any sense, he’d leave me alone. Let me drink until next Tuesday. Let me melt into this fountain table of wine and liquor, until I’m nothing but alcoholic and regretful.But no. He doesn’t budge.I can feel Arthur’s eyes burning into my back. Piercing. Watching.He shouldn’t bother straining his neck to keep tabs on me. I would never— never— ruin his pristine reputation by looking like I’m enjoying the company of another man. Not even one as disgustingly handsome as Alex Hillcove.Not that I have a husband to ruin it for anymore. T
,ELEANOR.My breath goes still. Not just shallow or shaky, still. Like my lungs have frozen stiff in my chest, terrified to betray how I’m feeling.It’s Arthur’s effect. And I hate it. God, I hate how he’s still making my insides turn to jelly.His head rests lazily on my shoulder as we waltz, the weight of it so familiar it knocks memories loose in my skull. I know he must be tired, maybe even a little drunk from all that expensive wine, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing to me.Or maybe he does.This isn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen,not after everything. Not after we’ve been unstitched and signed the papers and gone our separate ways. Not after he made it clear he doesn’t want me like that.But my traitorous heart doesn’t listen. It never does.“You’re heavy,” I say. My voice sounds too even, too calm for the riot in my chest.He lifts his head then, those sharp golden-brown eyes flicking to mine, and the scent of him lingers,woodsy cologne, faint hints of smoke and leath
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