6: My surprise

Chapter 6: My surprise

Elena’s POV

What was that all about? My heart thudded as I stared at the door Damien had just walked out of. Hid words pricked at me and I felt a bolt of pain so sharp I inhaled a sharp breath of air.

And I'd thought he'd stepped in earlier because he cared. The thought made me chuckle, bitterness and pain mixed in within me.

He didn’t care. Damien never would. All he cared about was his family image, nothing else. Not me.

I was a fool to think for a second that one intimate moment would change that. I sniffed, hurriedly wiping my damp eyes.

I was just about to pick up my bag when the waiter walked in again, he held a small parcel in his hand. I was caught by surprise when he outstretched his hand to give it to me.

“For you ma'am,” he spoke, his tone as polite as ever.

“For me?” I questioned, not taking the parcel from his hand. “Who sent this?” I asked, not intending to take it till I knew who it was from.

“Mr. Mcgregor,” the mention of that man's name startled me. ‘Why would he want me to have this?’ I wondered.

“I…” I glanced at the parcel before turning away to leave. “I'm sorry, but I can't take it. Tell Mr. Mcgregor that I appreciate his kind gesture but I'll have to turn him down.”

Some gifts I could accept, while some, I couldn’t. Living under Father's shadow where the simplest gestures and gifts could mean a lot, I'd learned that very early on.

“Mrs,” the waiter hesitated, “Mr. Mcgregor sincerely wishes to apologize for his faux passe and behavior earlier. If you don't take this…” the waiter trailed off.

“It won't be good…” he swallowed. “For me,” he added after a pause.

I paused in my steps, staring at the parcel for a long moment. “Okay,” I finally said, “I'll take it. Tell Mr. Mcgregor I appreciate his goodwill,” I slipped the parcel into my bag without taking another glance at it.

The waiter looked relieved as I took the parcel and he nodded quickly. “Certainly, I'll let Mr. Mcgregor know. Have a nice evening Mrs. Landon,” the waiter held the door open for me as I walked out.

Goodwill? Pfft! What use would those words be when Damien made life harder for him at the office? Thoughts swirled in my head as I walked down the stairs.

Mcgregor might’ve thought my words held sway over Damien but he couldn't have been more wrong. I had no influence whatsoever over Damien’s actions, he'd be disappointed if he thought his parcel would change anything.

“Elena,” I was deep in thought when Jacinta’s voice snapped me back to the present. She was standing just by the entrance.

“You…” I was just about to speak when I paused. “You look horrible, what happened?” I asked, glancing over her. Her warm bubbly exterior was all but gone, replaced by worry and anxiety.

I'd never seen Jacinta look like this. My heart skipped a beat, was Damien behind this? I was just about to ask when she spoke.

“Damien Landon is your husband?” Jacinta stared at me with wide eyes. “How is that possible? Weren't you—”

“Wait,” I cut her off. “I thought you were aware already,” I stared at her in confusion as details of our phone call came back to me.

Now that I thought about it, Jacinta hadn't made mention of who I was married to.

I'd just assumed she knew who.

“Who told you?” I asked, staring at her in the eye. “Who told you I was married?”

“It was…” Jacinta looked conflicted, her eyes straying back and forth.

“Who was it?” I pressed, I wanted to know.

Jacinta finally relented. “It was Cassandra,” she revealed, her eyes avoiding mine.

“Wait, what?” I thought I'd misheard and my mind went blank for a second. ‘Why would Cassandra tell Jacinta about the wedding? And why would Jacinta have no idea who I'd married if…’ I was about to voice my doubts but Jacinta beat me to it.

“She told me you'd gotten married to some guy named Morgan White,” Jacinta said slowly, staring at me.

“Morgan White?” I repeated, feeling confused. The name didn't ring a bell. ‘Why would Cassandra lie that I was married to him?’ I wondered.

“Elena,” Jacinta sighed. “I looked up the guy…” she hesitated.

“And…” I pressed her. “What about him?”

“He's a sixty-seven-year-old retired golf player,” Jacinta began carefully. “He got divorced last year, for the eleventh time.”

“What!” I felt my feet nearly give way beneath me and for a moment I couldn’t quite wrap my head around my thoughts.

“I think she was just playing with us,” Jacinta smiled bitterly. “I was so mad when I found out, I thought you'd gone bonkers. But now…” her face brightened.

“You made quite the catch,” she whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “He's the present CEO at the company I just got employed in. You always had an eye for good things,” Jacinta smiled her bubbly vibe back.

“I…” I stared at her for a moment, not quite sure how to intrude on her happiness at finding me married.

“So,” Jacinta dabbed at her eye absentmindedly. “How's married life going for you?” she grabbed at my hand and we slowly walked down the street.

“It's—” I paused, not quite sure what to say. I'd never thought to find myself getting married in this fashion and to such a man. My eyes dimmed at the thought of Damien, he was just so cold and unfeeling.

We'd just gone round a corner when a sharp gust of wind blew into us, I instinctively put a hand out in front of my face. A piece of paper escaped Jacinta’s baggy jack pockets, I grabbed it before it could go too far.

“Careful now,” I chuckled, “wouldn't want you to lose that. It's—” I paused, shock rooting me to the spot and my eyes scanned over it.

“What—” A lump formed in my throat, but I forced myself to speak. “What's this?” I glanced up at Jacinta who had a guilty look on her face.

“I was going to tell you,” Jacinta whispered. “Elena,” she reached out to hold my hand but I evaded her. “Allow me to explain.”

“EXPLAIN IT THEN,” I snapped loudly, not caring about the strange looks my outburst attracted. An image of the paper spun around in my head, not leaving my mind's eye.

It was a cheque. A cheque written by Damien