Chapter 4

Elena’s POV

My tears are threatening to flow, a sign of my failure and embarrassment. I tilt my head back, forcing them into a halt, all the while swallowing hard to keep my voice calm.

“I’m so sick and tired of you messing everything up,” Dad hisses. “If you don’t do the single thing that you’re supposed to do, I swear to God—”

“I’m divorcing Tristan.”

The words just came out of my mouth, like they were already rushing to make themselves known. The effect is like dropping a bomb. Everything feels so quiet. Dad stops talking. I’m not even sure if he’s breathing because of the absolute silence coming from his line.

I open my mouth to explain myself, to make him understand why I had to do what I did, but then his anger finally came out.

“You stupid b1tch,” he spits out, his voice dripping in venom. I can almost picture him clenching his phone and screaming into it. “What are you thinking? Oh, wait, that’s one thing you never do. You don’t think before you act! You just think everything revolves around you and your weak feelings! I shouldn’t have taken you in!”

“Dad,” I try to say, but he bulldozes over me.

“You exist just to ruin my life, you know that?” Dad says mockingly. “I should have left you with your wh0re mother and let you die with her!”

My heart clenches. The tears spring back up again. There are so many things I want to tell him, but I just keep quiet and let his rage play out.

“Fine,” Dad says, now laughing darkly to himself like he’s losing his mind. “I don’t need you! Mira is finally back, and she will do a better job getting money from Tristan than you ever did!”

With that, he hangs up, leaving me with nothing but silence and badly suppressed tears.

I collapse on the bed, the heaviness in my chest almost too much to bear. I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to keep myself warm and comforted, but it’s no use.

I’m alone. I always have been.

All my life I sought to please everyone else around me. Dad, Tristan, Mira… I kept quiet. I followed orders. I lived my life constantly worrying about what any of them would say.

Not once did I ever stop to think about myself. About what I feel.

But maybe once the divorce is through, I can finally live for myself.

And my babies.

***

The first thing that hit me the moment I open my eyes in the morning is nausea.

The urge to vomit is strong, but I hold it all back and head down to the kitchen. I’m up later than usual, and I really have no interest in making the usual elaborate breakfast that I make everyday for Tristan’s picky tendencies. After all, I really don’t need to do it anymore either.

So I end up using fixing myself a light breakfast of eggs and fresh fruit, as well as some brewed coffee.

As I sit alone in the dining room, I suddenly remember that it’s Tristan’s parents’ anniversary tomorrow.

Good thing I prepared a gift in advance—matching rings suited to their tastes, which I designed myself. I just need to meet my friend Grace to pick them up.

It might be a little strange to cater to his parents like this when we’re about to face divorce, but Catherine and Richard have always treated me well. Tristan and I might be falling apart, but I still want to attend their celebration and wish them all the best.

I send Grace a text asking her if she’s available, but before I can see if she responded, Tristan makes his way downstairs and sees the empty table.

The look of shock on his face is priceless. “Where’s breakfast?”

I just take a bite of my toast. “I didn’t make any for you. But the maids are all here. I’m sure they’ll make something for you if you ask them.”

He sneers. “Is this your way of getting my attention? That’s real mature, Elena.”

I say nothing, just watching him stare at me and the table like a meal will magically appear. I pay him no mind. We’re divorcing soon anyway. Why would I still care about what he thinks?

When the silence continues, Tristan approaches me, his face scrunched up in annoyance. “I already told you, I don’t like their cooking! And do you really trust them when your pregnant sister is living with us?”

“Well, I don’t know what her pregnancy has to do with me,” I state, finally looking up. “You brought her here, so I assumed you’ve taken her as your responsibility. Also, I already made a huge mistake last night triggering her allergy, right?”

Tristan opens his mouth to speak, no doubt to give me a long sermon, but just then, Mira comes down to the dining room. In a performative fashion, she puts her hand on his shoulder and smiles up at him. “Hey, it’s alright, Tristan. I’m fine and Elena doesn’t need to take care of me.”

With that, she suddenly stands next to me. “Did I do something to upset you, sister?”

My anger shoots up. She’s just so… fake. Everything about her is a performance.

And of course, her male lead comes to her rescue. “Don’t mind her, Mira. Elena doesn’t really have anything going on in her life, so just try to understand her when she throws a tantrum because she’s bored.”

Mira laughs lightly, and Tristan joins her. I lost all my appetite seeing them both. Something about them just repulses me now, and I find that I don’t even want to be around them.

Setting my plate and mug aside, I get up to leave.

“Where are you going?” Tristan calls out to me, but I ignore him, slipping upstairs to get ready to meet Grace.

***

Grace has been my absolute rock throughout all this. I would say that she’s my best friend, but that won’t be fully true. She’s my only friend in the world, the only one who keeps me anchored when things get rough.

We met in college in a difficult class, as we were both taking up jewelry design. At first we just bonded over how annoying the professor was, but it didn’t take long before we started to hang out outside class. She knows all about me, and I know all about her.

Now, Grace’s career is thriving. She used to work at Van Cleef and Arpels, but now she runs her own jewelry design studio. I’ve seen her work in a lot of red carpets and even movie costume pieces.

She’s approaching me now, sporting a wide grin and an elegant bob to match her pinstripe suit. A pearl set adorned her neck and her ears, with a brown hint that matches her kind eyes.

Seeing her so chic and so confident fills me with wistfulness.

Would I have ended up like this, like her? If my father didn’t push me to get money from Tristan through marriage, would I have had a flourishing career like her?

“So, what’s up with my best friend?” Grace asks as soon as she sits down, hugging me from across the table. I feel a rush of comfort just hearing her speak. “It’s been a while. I was so excited when I got your text! How is everything?”

The genuine interest and concern on her face erases all my filters.

I swallow hard. “I’m getting divorced.”

“What?” Grace splutters, blinking rapidly. “Tristan is divorcing you?”

“No.” I shake my head quietly. “I’m divorcing him.”

Grace leans against her chair, as though her whole core is rocked by the news. “Is it… is it because of your scheming slimy sister?”

I don’t have to respond to that for her to know the truth.

“Jesus.” She rubs her face. “Isn’t it bad enough that Mira made you miserable all your life? She almost got you raped on your graduation day, for god’s sake… and now this? One taste of stability and she came back just to ruin it?”

A bitter smile appears on my face. “It’s not really Mira. She didn’t have to do anything. I’m just… done being tied down. I’m tired of always living for other people.”

Grace nods, reaching out to squeeze my hand. Just then, a wave of nausea almost overcomes me. I cover my mouth to suppress a retch.

But that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you alright?” Grace asks inquisitively, leaning closer to me. “You went very pale just now.”

I consider lying to her, but one thing she doesn’t do is miss details.

“You’ve been like that for the past couple of weeks,” she observes. “It looks worse now. Are you nauseous again? Dizzy? Did you ever go to the doctor? We can go now.”

I lower my head. “I’m pregnant, Grace.”

“Elena,” she says, and that one word carries so much heartbreak.

“I know.” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “And Tristan doesn’t believe that it’s his. I don’t think he even believes that I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes widen. The aura around the table shifts. Instead of indignation, I see sadness on her face. “What would happen to the baby now?”

“Babies,” I correct her gently.

The sadness on her face turns into pure despair. “Oh, Elena….”

“I’m going to have them,” I tell her. “They’re all I have that’s completely mine.”

“I’m here too,” Grace says, getting up and coming over to my side. She hugs me, rubbing my back. “It’s going to be hard, being a single mother. Maybe you can try to talk things through with Tristan. You can show him some evidence. Maybe even a paternity test.”

I bite my lip in an effort not to cry. “I don’t know, Grace.”

“I’m not saying you couldn’t do it,” she says quickly. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. But Tristan has to know, Elena. He has to take responsibility. There has to be a room for both of you to talk this out.”

For a moment, I let myself consider the possibilities.

What if, by some miracle, Tristan believes me?

What if he sees his actual children and decides to work it out?

All of my problems will disappear.

And most importantly, my children will grow up with a father. A family that’s whole. Unlike me.

I meet Grace’s eyes. “I’m going to talk to Tristan again.”