The Weight of Gold

Isabelle’s POV

I set the last wine glass on the dining table and checked the time. It was seven o'clock, and Alexander would be home any minute.

At the head of the table, my mother-in-law, Eleanor, pushed her plate away. She had barely touched her food.

"Seven years in this house, Isabelle, and you still can't manage a simple dinner menu," she said, looking down at the food with obvious disapproval. "Roasted duck in this weather? It's too heavy. A proper wife knows how to prepare a light, elegant meal for her husband after a business trip."

"It got cold outside this afternoon," I replied quietly. "I thought something warm would be nice after his long flight."

"You always think you know best," she scoffed. "You come from an ordinary family, so I shouldn't expect you to understand how a prestigious household is run. Still, you could at least make an effort."

I said nothing. My parents were respected educators, but to Eleanor, anyone without inherited wealth was a nobody. She never acknowledged that seven years ago, when the Hayes family's hotel business was on the verge of bankruptcy, I had worked day and night redesigning their properties and securing high-profile clients to keep the business afloat.

The front door opened, followed by the sound of footsteps in the hallway.

Alexander walked into the dining room with his tie already loosened and his dark suit jacket hanging over one arm. Even after a long day, he looked sharp and composed.

"Alexander," I said, stepping towards him with a small smile. "You're back."

He gave me a brief kiss on the cheek before taking his seat. "The traffic to the airport was terrible. Mother, how are you?"

"Exhausted from watching your wife make a mess of running this home," Eleanor replied without hesitation. "Just look at this table. It's completely wrong for tonight."

I glanced at Alexander, hoping that, just once, he would tell her to stop.

Instead, he picked up his fork without looking at either of us. "Mother, please don't start. I've had back-to-back board meetings all day. I just want to eat in peace."

He didn't defend me. He never did. My feelings were always an inconvenience he preferred to ignore.

Eleanor gave me a smug look before turning back to her son. "You should at least remind her about the annual family gala this weekend. All the other directors will be attending with their children. It's embarrassing that after seven years of marriage, you two still haven't given this family an heir."

The fork slipped from my fingers and struck the plate with a dull clink.

Alexander knew how much those words hurt. He knew about the two miscarriages I had endured, both times without him by my side because he had been away on business.

Yet he simply took a sip of water. "The company's profits matter more to the board than children, Mother. Drop it."

He didn't tell her she was being cruel or acknowledge how much she had hurt me. He simply changed the subject to business.

The rest of dinner passed in silence. Once we finished, Eleanor went upstairs while Alexander collected his briefcase and headed straight to his private study down the hall.

I went into the kitchen and brewed a fresh pot of chamomile tea. Alexander often suffered from tension headaches after long flights, and I always made him tea to help him relax before bed.

With the tray in my hands, I walked down the quiet corridor towards his study. The door was slightly open, and a strip of yellow light fell across the floor.

I raised my hand to knock but stopped when I heard his voice.

It wasn't the cold, exhausted tone he used around me. Instead, he sounded warm and patient, with a softness I hadn't heard from him in years.

"You don't need to apologize for calling so late," Alexander said with a quiet laugh. "I told you to rest after your clinic visit. Did you take the vitamins I ordered for you?"

I froze outside the door, my fingers tightening around the tray. The ceramic cup trembled slightly in my hands.

There was a brief pause as the person on the other end spoke.

"Don't worry about anything, Vanessa," he continued gently. "The doctors are taking care of everything. Whatever you need, just ask me. Stay in bed and take care of yourself."

My grip slipped, and the saucer rattled against the wooden tray.

The voice inside stopped immediately.

A second later, the study door swung open. Alexander stood in the doorway, lowering his phone. The warmth on his face vanished, replaced by his usual cold expression.

"Isabelle," he said, his eyes moving to the tea in my hands.

My heart twisted painfully in my chest as I looked straight at him.

"Who is Vanessa?"

Alexander didn't even flinch. He slipped his phone into his pocket and calmly took the tray from my hands.

"A junior staff member from our European branch," he replied smoothly. "She fell ill while managing our Geneva project. It's just work, Isabelle. Go to bed."