Chapter Two: The Closed Door

The laughter drifted through the heavy oak door again,it was quiet, and strangely out of place in a CEO's office.

My fingers tightened around the leather folder. Don't be ridiculous, Aurelia, I told myself,they're probably just talking about work.

People laughed at work all the time. Colleagues laughed,clients laughed.

So why did my chest ache as if I already knew something was wrong? I shifted my weight and glanced at the wall clock.

Bianca had been inside for ten minutes. By then, the hallway was almost empty. Most of the employees had already gone home for the evening, leaving only the soft hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant ring of an unanswered phone.

I looked down at the folder. Maybe I should just leave it with his secretary. No….I had come all this way because I wanted to see my husband, even if only for a minute, and even if all I received was another apology.

Before I could make up my mind, the office door clicked open. Bianca stepped out first, pausing when she saw me standing exactly where she had left me.

"Aurelia." A hint of surprise crossed her face before her expression smoothed into a bright smile. "You waited."

"I wanted to give these to Cassian myself."

Her eyes flicked down to the folder. "Oh." For a second, something unreadable crossed her features. "I'm sorry, we kept you longer than I expected,it was supposed to be a quick discussion, but you know how work is."

"I do," I replied, keeping my voice even.

As she adjusted the strap of her handbag, a loose strand of hair slipped across her face,she tucked it neatly behind her ear before smoothing down the front of her cream-colored dress.

The gesture was completely casual, yet I couldn't stop the ugly thought that crept into my mind. Why did she feel the need to fix her appearance after a simple business meeting? I hated myself for even thinking it.

A brief silence settled between us before Bianca offered me a gentle smile."I'll let you two talk," she said softly. "And... happy anniversary.”

Before I could answer, she walked past me toward the elevators, the sharp click of her heels gradually fading into nothing.

A moment later, Cassian stepped out of his office. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and he looked more worn out than I'd seen him in weeks. When his eyes found mine, genuine surprise crossed his face.

"Aurelia? What are you doing here?" Then, his eyes dropped to the documents in my hands. "The acquisition reports."

"I figured you might need them."

For the first time that evening, a faint, weary smile touched his lips. "You saved me….I noticed they were missing five minutes after I arrived." He accepted the folder, flipping through the pages with obvious relief. "I should've checked my briefcase before leaving the house."

"You were in a hurry."

"I always am," he admitted quietly, the confession hanging heavily between us. He closed the folder and looked down at me. "I ruined our anniversary."

His voice was low…not defensive, just deeply tired.

I looked at him for a long, quiet moment. "No. You didn't ruin it, Cassian. You forgot it." Pain flickered across his face. "I didn't forget."

"No?" I offered a sad, tired smile. "Then tell me what flavor the cake was."

His expression froze,he couldn't answer, because he hadn't cared enough to look,silence settled between us like a physical wall.

At last, he looked away, exhaling heavily. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"When?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.Tomorrow. Next week. After the next board meeting, the next acquisition, the next corporate emergency. We both knew how the sentence ended.

Right on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket,he didn't even have to look at the screen; the sound alone was enough to signify that duty had called him back.

"I have to go," he said.

I nodded before he could see the disappointment gathering in my eyes. "You should."

He hesitated. For a split second, it looked as though he might reach out to pull me into a hug, but instead, his hand dropped back to his side. "Drive safely."

"You too."

As he disappeared back into his office, the heavy door closed firmly between us,I stood alone in the quiet corridor, finally accepting that I had spent the last ten minutes waiting for a husband who no longer knew how to choose me.

By the time I returned to the Blackthorne estate, the lights in the dining room were still on. The anniversary cake sat exactly where I had left it, looking empty and slightly tragic without its candles,the smooth finish of the frosting had already begun to dry out.

Marta, the head housekeeper, stepped forward when she heard my footsteps.

"Mrs. Blackthorne..."

"I know, Marta." I looked at the untouched table. "You can clear everything away."

She hesitated, her brow furrowing. "But Mr. Blackthorne's assistant called and said he would be home later tonight."

"He always says that," I replied softly.

Before Marta could respond, the sharp click of high heels echoed across the marble foyer. Vivienne entered the dining room with her usual effortless elegance, her critical gaze sweeping over the table before landing on me.

"What a waste," Vivienne said, gesturing subtly toward the cake. "But then, hope always is."

Neither Marta nor the other staff dared move. Vivienne liked an audience, and the housekeepers knew better than to interrupt her performance.

"Do you know why Richard changed his will shortly before he passed?" Vivienne asked, stepping closer to me.

I met her cold eyes. "No."

"He wanted to ensure the future of Blackthorne Global remained strictly within the bloodline,the first legitimate grandchild inherits the primary shares of the empire."

Her smile held absolutely no warmth. "So tell me, Aurelia... how much longer do you expect this family to wait?"

The room felt suddenly suffocating,the servants kept their heads lowered, pretending to be invisible.

"I never asked anyone to wait," I said quietly.

"No, you only keep my son waiting,"

Vivienne countered, her words striking with calculated precision. "A wife is supposed to provide her husband with a family, not a list of endless excuses. Instead, Bianca is the one standing beside Cassian every single day while you sit here, desperately protecting a marriage that is already slipping through your fingers."

The bluntness of her words stole the air from my lungs. Was that how the entire world saw us? A marriage already in ruins?

Heavy footsteps echoed from the entrance hall, breaking the tense silence. Cassian walked into the dining room and stopped the moment he saw us….his mother, me, and the untouched cake still sitting on the table,a dark look settled over his face.

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

Vivienne answered smoothly, her tone perfectly innocent. "We were simply discussing the future of this family."

Cassian's eyes found mine,I held his gaze, my heart pounding as I waited for him to speak.

Just once, I pleaded silently. Defend me. Choose me. He let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Mother, that's enough. We'll talk about this another time."

Another time. Always another time, never now. Never when it mattered. I lowered my eyes, unable to look at him any longer. "I'm tired." Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked toward the grand staircase,no one tried to stop me.

My bedroom was dark, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the heavy drapes,after changing into a simple nightdress, I knelt by my bedside table and opened the deep bottom drawer.

Hidden beneath a stack of neatly folded linens was a small wooden box.,its corners were smooth and worn from years of being handled in secret,I lifted the lid, revealing pieces of a life I'd left behind….a dried white flower, an old movie ticket, and a silver bracelet with a broken clasp..

At the very bottom was a faded photograph,I picked it up carefully, as though it had been waiting for me.

A younger, happier version of me smiled brightly at the camera. Beside me stood the man I had once loved. His lips rested against my forehead as I laughed, completely unaware of how life would change.

I ran my thumb over the worn edges of the photograph.

Four years of a lonely marriage, and yet, I still couldn't bring myself to let go of the past.

"You promised you'd come back," I whispered into the darkness.

The heavy silence that answered me felt far lonelier than the empty room downstairs.