Chapter Two

Cassian’s POV

The very second she opened the door to get out, I thought that was it. But then the door creaked open a little wider, and she collided with someone.

“Sorry again, Mrs. Hale” my lawyer, Davis, apologized and just had to change the topic.  

“Elara. Do you have a moment?” I almost rolled my eyes. He had a fancy for always having the wrong timing.

Elara paused for a moment and then nodded once and as she moved out of the way, stepping back into the office with him.  She didn’t even glance back at me.

Davis entered with the folders I’d told him to get ready a week ago. The folder contained every asset broken down, the complete settlement offer and the goddamn penthouse I hated anyway but still bought it for her, because she said it was the right kind of light or some shit she could breathe in.  She had no idea about the private account. It was an account I had created and hid away from her, years ago in her own name.

Just in case.

“Here’s the full agreement,” Davis said, setting the papers down on the glass table that separated us. 

“Everything we discussed, Mr. Hale. Believed you may need and is giving you full access to the properties, the liquid assets, and grants you thirty-percent interest in Hale Holdings, the trust.”

Elara listened in silence, her posture too composed, as if she’d already come to terms with something I wasn’t aware of. She read a few pages without a single expression on her face. She never for once bat an eye at the numbers. But I remained seated, as I prepared myself for the typical questions,Why so much? Why now?

But no, she looked up and said, “I don’t need it.”

Davis blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t want the penthouse. Or the money. Or the shares.”

“You may want to consider…”

“I’m not after your money,” she interjected. Her gaze shifted from Davis and locked with mine, making the atmosphere in the room unsettling. “All I want is to forget.”

Forgotten.

She didn’t say it as if that would actually be a good thing. I sinked back in my chair trying hard to hide the irritation rising from my throat. “Elara, this isn’t charity. It’s yours. It was meant for you all along.”

“You didn’t do that out of love, Cassian,” she murmured. “You gave it because you were finished.” She said though she wasn’t wrong.

I had taken this decision the night Juliette had attempted to kill herself. It was a messy and loud night.  I had received a call from her, crying. While telling me that she couldn’t handle being the “the other woman” anymore. That it was killing her slowly. 

This had happened on the night I hadn’t been answering her messages all day. She had found out that Elara and I were still going to charity events together, after I had vowed I wouldn’t to her. She’d seen pictures on the internet, Elara standing beside me, her hand in mine, portraying fake smiles for cameras.

Juliette had taken sleeping pills. And it was her roommate who found her in the nick of time. I told her that night I would break things off with Elara and that I would no longer hide, no longer wait to have her with me.  I told her that she mattered.

And I meant it.

Elara had already been a ghost to me in our marriage for months, maybe even longer. Always quiet. Always closed off. She no longer asked me where I was going. Stopped kissing me goodnight. Stopped arguing. We lived like strangers in the same house,  and did nothing else other than show up for public functions.

But she wouldn’t sign the damned papers.

I had given them to her two weeks before. Placed them on the kitchen counter and said, “Here you go.”

I had expected her to cry, to yell, but  she did neither. Instead, she  looked at me and asked if I was certain that I wanted a divorce. 

Of course I was sure.

I had waited long enough for the moment. I was sick of living with self imposed limitations. Where Juliette was spontaneous, affectionate, not afraid to ask for what she wanted, and Elara was neither.  

Still, I never thought this day would come anytime sooner. The  day Elara would vanish for two weeks before making a single call. I actually thought she’d have dragged it out longer. That I was going to have to get her to agree, or possibly sue her to force her hand.

But last night, Davis phoned to say the signed papers had arrived.

And now here she was, rejecting every parting gift I’d arranged. As if none of it mattered. As if I didn’t just hand her a golden chance to begin life anew.

“I  ensured that you’d be comfortable,” I said, my voice was sharper than I’d meant it to be. “This was meant to be clean.”

“Clean?” she muttered, as a little laugh escaped from her lips. “You think this feels clean to me?”

I didn’t answer.

Davis began collecting documents again, visibly uneasy. Elara didn’t look my way as she stood up. With her chin held high, and her eyes bulging.  She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. That was the thing about her. Even when she broke, she never let you see the cracks. I had imagined that when this moment would finally arrive, that I would feel relieved. 

Instead, I felt something else. Something sharp. Something I couldn’t quite name.

“Goodbye, Cassian.” She sounded so simple when she said it. She didn’t yell, scream or curse me.  No theatrics. No bitterness.

I nodded once. “Goodbye, Elara.”

As she walked out looking all fine, with no tears. She didn’t stop for once to throw a glance at me over her shoulder. I listened as her soft steps echoed down the hallway as she walked out like she owned the place. And maybe, once, she did.

Davis looked at me as the door closed behind her. “Do I continue with a revised offer?”

“No,” I said flatly. “Let her go.” He nodded uncertainly and stepped out, leaving me to my own thoughts. I leaned back, exhaling slowly as her voice, that statement she had made resounded in my head. 

“I just want to  forget.”

That should’ve made this easier, made it seem simpler, leaving me with no guilt. I’d given her everything she could have wanted to run away with, if ever she had considered that an option. But she handed it all back to me like it was mere ash in her hands. I closed my eyes as I reassured myself that maybe it was better this way. That she was nothing more than a strategically positioned pawn in a life that had to look perfect. 

She was merely a pawn, after all … wasn’t she?