Chapter 3

The next day Elara felt her every movement heavier than ever. Her head throbbed hard, her throat dry, her limbs slow to respond. She lay still for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling to calm herself down.

Last night wasn't a dream.

The post. Melissa. The way Nathaniel had brought the woman home.

Elara pushed herself up anyway. She had always believed that pain was not an excuse to stop functioning. If she rested every time she was hurt, she would never leave the bed.

When she stepped into the kitchen, the smell stopped her.

Food. She blinked, momentarily disoriented.

Nathaniel stood by the counter, his sleeves rolled up, focused on the pan in front of him. There was no phone in his hand. No impatience in his posture which was so unlike him. He looked domestic. Something she had never seen in him before.

Melissa sat at the island, wrapped in a soft cardigan, her chin resting on her palm as she watched him with a fond smile.

Elara stood frozen at the doorway.

“I think I have a fever,” she said to him quietly.

She didn't complain. She just wanted to inform him.

Nathaniel glanced over briefly. His gaze skimmed her face, he looked almost detached, indifferent, and then he turned away.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “If you need to go to the hospital, take the driver.”

That was all. He turned back to the stove not caring in the slightest.

Elara watched as he placed a plate in front of Melissa, toast, eggs, fruit arranged carefully. It seemed so simple, domestic. So intimate in a way she had never been allowed to experience.

In three years of marriage, she had never seen him cook.

Not once. Not for her. Never.

“Thank you,” Melissa said with a smile.

Nathaniel nodded softly.

Elara said nothing more. She turned and left the kitchen before the tightness in her chest could show on her face.

The fever worsened as the day wore on.

By afternoon, the mansion felt too cold despite the sunlight pouring through the windows. Elara moved slowly down the corridor, her one hand brushing the wall for balance. Her head felt dizzy, her vision blurring at the edges.

She didn’t notice Melissa approaching until she was already too close.

Melissa stepped toward her, their shoulders nearly brushing. Elara instinctively took a step back, her foot faltering as dizziness washed over her.

Melissa lost her balance.

No scream came. Only a sharp intake of breath as she stumbled, her hand scraping against the railing.

“Ouch-”

Nathaniel appeared instantly.

“What happened?” he asked, already reaching for Melissa, ignoring Elara as if she wasn't even there.

“I-I’m sorry,” Melissa said softly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t realize you were standing so close.”

She looked shaken and vulnerable.

Elara opened her mouth to speak. “I stepped back. I felt dizzy and-”

Nathaniel turned toward her. His eyes were cold and sharp.

“Did you do this on purpose?”

The words hit harder than a slap.

Elara stared at him, stunned. “What?”

“You were standing right behind her,” he continued, his tone filled with accusation, sharp and unforgiving. “Why did you hurt her?”

“I told you this morning that I have a fever. I lost my balance.” she said, her voice steady despite the pounding in her head. “

That’s not an excuse,” he replied, his voice cold.

Melissa shifted slightly, wincing. “It’s okay, Nathaniel. It might’ve been my fault. I should’ve been more careful.”

Nathaniel ignored that.

“Apologize,” he said to Elara.

The word was firm and absolute.

Elara felt something go very still inside her. She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for even a trace of uncertainty. There was none. His concern was already on Melissa.

“I didn’t push her,” she said finally. “And I don’t feel well.”

Nathaniel didn’t respond.

He bent down, scooping Melissa carefully into his arms as if she were something fragile, something precious.

“I’ll take you upstairs,” he said to her gently.

Elara swayed, gripping the edge of the table to stay upright.

“Nathaniel,” she said quietly.

He paused only briefly, his back still to her and spoke. “Not now, Elara.” He said, “You should know better than to cause trouble now.”

Then he walked away without glancing back.

Elara stood there alone, the silence swallowing her whole. The house felt unfamiliar, too large, too empty, too indifferent.

Slowly, she lowered herself into a chair, pressing a hand to her forehead. Her skin burned. Her vision blurred but the pain in her body was nothing compared to the clarity settling in her mind.

Nathaniel hadn’t needed proof. He hadn’t needed explanations because he had already chosen his first love after three years of marriage.

Elara sat there for a long time, the fever burning through her veins.

When she finally stood up, the world tilted violently. And then everything went dark.

***

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