Chapter 6

Ellias

3 months later

Sharp, rhythmic rapping against my bedroom door dragged me out of a dreamless, heavy sleep.

"Elias. Wake up. The first of the town cars are pulling into the drive."

My mother’s voice was as crisp as the morning air, devoid of the tremor I’d been carrying in my own voice for ninety days.

I stared up at the ceiling of my room in the Vance estate. A room I was forced to adjust and move into two months after my father's death.

I didn't move. I wanted to sink into the mattress and let the house grow over me, but the door opened anyway.

Claire,my mom, stood there, already dressed in silver silk. She looked perfect. Not a hair out of place, not a sign of the woman who had buried a husband three months ago. She looked like she was heading into a board meeting for a negotiation.

"Your suit is pressed and hanging in the dressing room," she said, her eyes scanning my messy bed,a clear sign of disapproval written on her face.

"Don't make me send someone to come fetch you. We have a lot to do and I can't risk the schedule because of your lack of agency."

“Okay.” I murmur.

“And ensure you look put together,Elias. This isn't a game.”

"God forbid we look human for a second," I muttered, my voice thick with sleep and bitterness.

“Being human doesn't equate being messy. Now get up.” she snapped.

She just adjusted a diamond earring, her reflection in my vanity mirror sharp and her face cold,stripped of all emotions.

"Today we become the Vances. Don't mess this up."

She left without waiting for a response. I listened to the click of her heels down the hallway, each one fueling fiery deep in my heart. She had simply walked into another engagement as if she hadn't lost a husband. Im not sure about the rules of mourning but i know twelve weeks is not enough

I dragged myself out of bed, my feet hitting the cold hardwood. I walked over to the window and pushed aside the heavy drapes. Below, the sprawling gardens were being transformed. Men in white gloves were moving chairs into perfect rows, and a string quartet was tuning their instruments near the rose bushes.

And then I saw him. My heart caught in my chest. My eyes widened as i watched the man soon to be my step father. He was standing by the fountain, speaking to a man who looked like an older, more haggard version of himself, his brother,i suppose.

He was dressed in a black morning suit that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. He didn't gesture when he spoke; he just stood there. I stared at him, anger blaring inside of me. As if sensing my stare, he tilted his head back. His dark eyes locked onto mine through the glass. He didn't wave. He didn't smile. He just stared back. I quickly let the curtain drop, the fabric heavy in my hand. My chest tightened, that familiar constrained feeling returning with a vengeance,guilt, shame and fear.

I walked toward the dressing room where the black suit waited for me.

I reached for the tie, my hands finally steady. The guests were here. All I had to do was dress up and act poised enough for them not to suspect a thing.

All i had to do was stay composed as the man i had fucked recites his vows to my mom.