3: THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

ELARA’S POV

Something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong. I still can’t quite process what Nate just did. My mind feels like a spinning wheel, unable to settle.

A tear slips down my cheek, but I make no effort to wipe it away. I’m too focused on dragging my small suitcase, which seems to grow heavier with each passing step.

I clutch the handle tightly, letting the numbness in my chest dull the sting of my shock.

The walk from our house I mean Nate’s house, to the nearest bus stop is only ten minutes, but tonight it feels endless. I tried calling for a cab, but none were available. The city that never sleeps, yet somehow, all the drivers are busy.

When I finally reach the bus stop, I sink onto a cold metal bench, exhausted. I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the darkened street, feeling the weight of the situation hit me. For the first time, I realize I have nowhere to go. Sure, I have places—my mom’s and Elliot’s, but neither feels like an option. Not tonight.

If I go to Mom’s, she’ll only lecture me, rehashing every ‘I told you so’ she’s been saving. She’ll insult Nate, reminding me of every red flag I ignored. And as much as I might agree, I can’t handle her judgment right now. I don’t even want to think of Nate’s mess ups.

Elliot, my brother, is no better. He wouldn’t hesitate to track Nate down, probably knock on his door at this very moment, demanding answers. It’d only create more drama, and I’d end up looking like the helpless girl Nate took in.

The city lights blur as my eyes well up. I’m not helpless. Dad taught us resilience. He may have been a millionaire, but he raised Elliot and me without the glitz and glamor that defined our family’s reputation.

We weren’t the spoiled rich kids, but to most of New York’s elite, we were nobodies. Sometimes, I liked it that way. But now? Now I just feel… invisible.

“Isn’t that Elara Hales of Hale Mining & Co.?” A familiar voice jolts me out of my thoughts.

I don’t need to look up to recognize it, but I force a polite smile anyway, glancing toward the sleek black Bentley parked in front of me.

Mrs. Chelsea sits inside, poised and graceful, despite being old enough to be my grandmother. Her makeup is flawless, her diamond jewelry sparkling under the streetlights an elegant force of nature on her way to yet another upper-crust event.

“Hello, Mrs. Chelsea,” I say, managing to keep my voice steady.

She leans forward, rolling down her window with a curious gleam in her eye. “I knew it was you!” she exclaims with a delighted smile.

The last person I wanted to run into tonight was Mrs. Chelsea.

“Where are you headed with that suitcase, dear?” She peers at me, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. After a pause, she lets out a small gasp. “Don’t tell me Nate chased you out of the house!”

“What? No!” I laugh, a forced sound that even I don’t believe. “Why would you think that?”

Mrs. Chelsea chuckles softly but doesn’t look convinced. “Oh, my mistake. It’s just that a billionaire’s wife, sitting all alone at an empty bus stop without any guards or even her own car well, it does make one wonder. But I’m glad I’m wrong.”

Her eyes are too sharp, the amusement in her gaze a touch too knowing. I shift uncomfortably under her stare, my mind scrambling for an excuse.

“So, where are you off to, darling?” she presses, her voice laced with feigned innocence. Panic twists in my chest. I don’t know where I’m going. I was still figuring it out when she pulled up.

Maybe I could say a hotel, but that might only confirm her suspicions. Think, Elara, think.

“The office,” I blurt out, the words escaping before I can stop them. “Yes, I’m headed to my office.”

“Oh, how practical!” She beams, still eyeing me with that amused glint. “I’m on my way to fifth Avenue. Let me drop you off.”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Chelsea. I’ll wait for the next bus. It should be here in, like…” I glance at the bus schedule, stammering, “Five minutes.”

“Nonsense! Do you think Nate would ever forgive me if he found out I left his lovely wife stranded on the street?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” I say, forcing another smile, but Mrs. Chelsea isn’t swayed.

“Chad, why are you still sitting?” She turns to her driver. “Go open the door for her.”

In an instant, Chad is out of the car, hurrying to hold the door open for me, his expression apologetic.

I hesitate, staring at the car, feeling trapped. If I get in, I’ll have to endure her persistent questions and the endless talk of fundraisers and gossip.

But if I refuse, she’ll spread the story all over the city by morning. And I can only imagine the rumors that would swirl the lonely billionaire’s wife, suitcase in hand, tears on her face, waiting at a bus stop in the dead of night.

I sigh, resigning myself to my fate. It’s better to have my ears talked off than to become the next hot topic on the Upper East Side.

“Thank you, Mrs. Chelsea,” I murmur, stepping into the car. Chad takes my suitcase and put it in the trunk, and I settle into the plush seat beside Mrs. Chelsea.

She pats my hand with a triumphant smile. “There we are, dear. Now, tell me all about what’s happening with you and Nate.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. This is going to be a long ride.