45 Painful Truths and Uncaring Words
Elara’s POV
The evening breeze cooled my flushed cheeks as we left the boutique. My heart still hammered against my ribs. Standing up to my father had been liberating, but emotionally draining.
“I need some air, I murmured to Chloe.
She squeezed my arm gently. “Let’s walk a bit. Your car can wait.”
We strolled in silence along the upscale shopping district. Designer boutiques glowed with warm light against the darkening sky. I took deep breaths, trying to calm the
storm inside me.
“You okay?” Chloe finally asked.
“No,” I admitted. “But I will be”
Chloe glanced at me sideways. “I’m proud of you back there. You stood your ground.”
I shook my head. “I lost my temper. That’s not the same thing.”
“Sometimes losing your temper is exactly what’s needed.” Chloe stopped walking and turned to face me. “You’ve spent years being the perfect, understanding wife. The accommodating ex–wife. The undemanding daughter. It’s about time you showed. some fire.”
A hollow laugh escaped me. “Fat lot of good it did.”
“It did plenty. Your father looked shocked. He’s probably never heard you speak that way before.”
“It won’t change anything” The weight of truth sat heavy in my chest. “Damien will still favor Vivienne. My father will still think I’m being unreasonable. Cora will still prefer
them over me.”
Chloe’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Don’t say that about Cora.”
“Why not? It’s true.” The words tasted bitter. “My own daughter barely wants to spend time with me. Linda was right about that much.”
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“Linda is a spiteful bitch who wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped her in the face,” Chloe retorted.
We resumed walking, passing a cafe where couples sat enjoying evening coffee. Their easy laughter felt like a mockery.
“Want to grab a drink?” Chloe suggested. “You look like you could use one.”
I considered it. Part of me wanted to drown my sorrows in wine and Chloe’s sympathetic car. But another part knew that wouldn’t solve anything.
“I can’t. I have work to finish.” I checked my watch. “I promised Julian I’d review the Henderson proposal tonight.”
“Work can wait,” Chloe protested. “You’re upset.”
“That’s precisely why I need to work. I managed a small smile. “It’s the only thing in my life I can control right now.”
Chloe’s expression softened. “I understand. Just don’t bury yourself in it completely, okay?”
We reached my car, and I pulled out my keys. Before I could get in, my phone Cora’s smiling face lit up the screen. My heart jumped.
“It’s Cora,” I told Chloe, quickly answering. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Mom?” Cora’s voice sounded small. “When are you coming home?”
I checked my watch again. “I won’t be home tonight, honey. I’m staying at my apartment. Remember?”
rang.
“But I’m bored,” she whined. “Daddy’s on his phone all the time, and Hannah left after dinner.”
Guilt twisted in my stomach. I pictured her alone in that big house, seeking company. “Is your father there with you now?”
“Yeah, but he’s doing business stuff in the living room. He told me to play quietly.”
Of course he did. Damien never changed his schedule for anyone, not even our daughter.
“Where’s Vivienne?” I couldn’t help asking.
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“She had some work thing. Can’t you come over? Please?”
The pleading in her voice nearly broke my resolve. But the thought of facing Damlen after what Linda had revealed about him sabotaging my business–I wasn’t ready for that confrontation.
“I’m sorry, sweetic. I can’t tonight.” I softened my voice. “But how about we do something special this weekend? Just you and me?”
“But I’m lonely now,” she insisted.
The accusation in her tone stung. “I’m sorry, Coco. Mom has important work tonight.” My chest felt tight. “Why don’t you ask your dad to watch a movie with you?”
“He’s busy,” she repeated, frustration evident.
“Just ask him, honey. Tell him you’re feeling lonely.”
I heard shuffling, then Cora’s voice, slightly distant as if she’d lowered the phone. “Daddy, can we watch a movie? I’m bored.”
Damien’s deep voice replied, though I couldn’t make out his exact words.
Cora returned to the phone. “He said maybe later. He has a call with Singapore.”
Always work. Always something more important than our daughter.
m sure he’ll watch with
you after his call,” I said, trying to sound encouraging. “It’s getting late anyway, sweetie. Almost your bedtime.”
“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “Bye, Mom.”
“I love you, Coco.”
But she had already hung up. The abrupt end to our conversation left me staring at my phone, fighting back tears.
Chloe touched my shoulder. “Everything okay?”
“No,” I admitted. “But when is it ever?”
“Go home, Elara. Get some rest.”
I nodded, giving her a quick hug before getting into my car. As I drove toward my apartment, my mind kept replaying the conversation with Cora. The pain of not being
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there for her mixed with resentment that Damien could be physically present yet. emotionally absent, and still be considered the better parent.
Meanwhile at the Thorne mansion, Cora wandered back into the living room. Damien sat on the sofa, phone pressed to his ear, nodding occasionally as he listened to whoever was on the other end. He glanced up when Cora entered, offering a brief smile before returning his attention to his call.
She f
dramatically onto the couch opposite him. Damien raised an eyebrow at the display but continued his conversation without interruption. Cora sighed loudly, kicking her feet against the expensive leather.
After several minutes, Damien ended his call. “That was unnecessary,” he said, gesturing to her feet on the furniture.
“I’m bored,” Cora complained again.
Damien checked his watch. “It’s almost your bedtime.”
“Mom said she can’t come over.”
“She has work,” Damien replied matter–of–factly. “Just like I do.”
“But you’re here,” Cora pointed out. “She never stays here anymore.”
Damien’s expression tightened momentarily. “That’s… complicated, Cora.”
“Because you like Vivienne better? The innocent question carried the weight of adult implications Cora couldn’t fully understand.
Damien looked genuinely startled. “Who told you that?”
Cora shrugged. “I heard Linda say it to Mom at my birthday party.”
Across town, Alistair Dubois entered his lavish penthouse, still seething from the encounter with Elara. Lennox Dubois, his father, looked up from his newspaper as Alistair stormed into
the living room.
“What’s got you in such a state?” Lennox asked, folding the
paper.
“Elara,” Alistair growled. “I ran into her at Cartier.”
Lennox raised an eyebrow/ “And?”
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“She refused to help Vivienne get a position at YodaVision.” Alistair poured himself a stiff drink. “Called her a mistress, in front of Ruby and Linda.”
“Did she now?” Lennox seemed more intrigued than upset. “And what did you want her to do for Vivienne exactly?”
“Put in a good word with Julian Croft: Alistair downed his rink in one swallow. “Vivienne needs connections in the tech world, especially after losing the Sentinel Project to a competitor.”
“Ah.” Lennox nodded. “And naturally, you thought Elara would help the woman who stole her husband.”
Alistair scowled. “She’s being petty. Damien would have left her regardless.”
“Likely true,” Lennox agreed coldly. “Even if it wasn’t Vivienne, he would’ve divorced her sooner or later. No man wants a doormat forever.”
His callous words hung in the air, a cruel summation of Elara’s seven years of marriage – dismissed as inevitable failure by her own family.
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