105 The Scent of His Deception
“I waited and waited, but she never came back,” Cora continued. “And Daddy didn’t come check on me like he promised either.”
Elara nodded, uncertain how to respond to his unexpected interest. “Yes. We’re making progress, but there are still challenges.”
Elara paused, just out of sight.
“Just reading,” she replied, not looking up.
Elara stepped forward, her smile firmly in place despite the storm raging within her. She would get through this breakfast. She would maintain her dignity.
When morning came, Elara woke to an empty bed. Damien’s side was cold and neatly made, as though he’d never been there. Only the faint indentation on his pillow suggested otherwise.
“But she promised!” Cora was saying, her voice high with indignation. “Vivi said I could sleep in her room all night!”
“I’m sure you’ll solve them,” Damien said, returning to his own reading.
Taking a deep breath, Elara squared her shoulders and continued toward the dining area. She would sit through breakfast as promised. She would smile and make conversation. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
She slipped into the bathroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. Taking deep breaths, she focused on the cool tiles beneath her feet. The mirror reflected a woman she barely recognized – eyes too bright, face too pale, smile too practiced.
As she rounded the corner, she caught sight of Damien and Vivi e seated side by side at the breakfast table. They weren’t touching, but they didn’t need to. The
way Damien intimacy between them was palpable – in their shared smiles, in the leaned slightly toward Vivienne as she spoke, in the easy comfort of people who had spent the night in each other’s arms.
“Still working?” he asked, his voice oddly casual.
For one suspended moment, she stood frozen, observing this tableau of her life – her
105 The Scent of His Deception
husband and her half–sister, wrapped in their private world of shared secrets and stolen nights. The family she had hoped for, the marriage she had believed in, the love she had yearned for – all illusions, shattered by the cold light of reality.
But as she took her seat across from Damien and Vivienne, catching another whiff of that damning perfume, she made a silent promise to herself.
“The emotional intelligence algorithm?” he asked, surprising her with his knowledge.
In that moment, something crystallized within Elara. A realization, a decision, a resolve that had been building for months, perhaps years.
Elara was already under the covers when she heard the door open. She didn’t turn around, keeping her back to the entrance as she pretended to read her book. The soft footsteps told her that Damien had returned to their room.
“I’m going to shower,” Elara said abruptly, needing to escape before her composure cracked.
It was time to end it.
Elara closed her eyes, feeling like a fool. She had actually believed, for one naive moment, that he had chosen to sleep beside her. Instead, he’d merely stopped by their room before spending the night with her half–sister.
“I’m sure she had her reasons, Miss Cora,” Mrs. Gable replied soothingly. “Perhaps she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Heavy reading for vacation,” he commented.
She dressed quickly, checking her watch. Seven forty–five. Just enough time to reach breakfast by eight as promised.
Vivienne turned, her perfect smile barely concealing her displeasure. “Just in time. We were about to order.”
at their marriage
She couldn’t live this lie anymore. She couldn’t keep pretending was merely troubled rather than fundamentally broken. She couldn’t keep hoping Damien would change when he had shown, time and again, where his heart truly lay.
–
Damien looked up then, catching her eye. Something flashed across his face – surprise, perhaps, or guilt. But it disappeared so quickly she might have imagined it.
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105 The Scent of His Deception
“Goodnight, Elara.”
Eleanor sat across from them, chatting animatedly about the day’s planned activities. None of them had noticed Elara yet.
“It’s not vacation for me,” she replied, sliding under the covers. “I’m still working on the YodaVision project.”
Her stomach tightened. It wasn’t enough that he spent all his time with Vivienne – he had to return to their shared bedroom carrying evidence of their intimacy. Only Eleanor’s presence at the resort explained why he was here at all. Always keeping appearances for his grandmother.
Elara’s hand gripped the wall as realization crashed over her. If Vivienne had left Cora’s room during the night, and Damien hadn’t checked on his daughter as promised…
When Damien moved closer to grab his own book from the nightstand, a familiar scent wafted toward her – Vivienne’s perfume. Elara stiffened, fighting the urge to recoil. The floral notes with hints of jasmine were unmistakable. Vivienne’s signature scent clung to him like a second skin.
The hot water washed away her tears but not the knowledge of what had just happened. By the time she emerged, wrapped in her robe, she had rebuilt her walls.
“But they promised!” Cora’s voice trembled with disappointment. “Vivi said we’d have a special girls‘ night.”
“Goodnight,” she said simply, switching off her lamp.
“She was fine at bedtime,” Cora insisted. “She even read me a story. But then she went back to her own room.”
“Elara,” he called, his voice neutral. “You made it.”
subside. After all
She pressed her palm against her chest, willing the sharp pain these years, his betrayals shouldn’t hurt this much. But they did. Every single time.
As Damien shifted to get comfortable, Elara caught sight of his pajama collar. There, barely visible, was a faint smudge of red lipstick – the exact shade Vivienne had been wearing earlier.
As she passed through the hallway, she heard Cora’s voice from the kitchen area where Mrs. Gable, Eleanor’s personal assistant, was preparing breakfast. ❤
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Eleanor beamed, genuinely pleased to see her. “Come sit, dear. I’ve been telling them about the wonderful spa treatments at the resort.”
This would be the last time she sat across from them, pretending their betrayal didn’t cut her to the core. This charade of a marriage had gone on long enough.
Mrs. Gable made a sympathetic noise. “Well, I’m sure they both had important things
to attend to.”
Damien was sitting up in bed, holding one of her books – the one she’d been reading about artificial intelligence theory. His eyebrows raised slightly as she approached.
The compliment, however casual, caught her off guard. She turned away, confused by this small moment of normalcy in their otherwise fractured relationship.
She closed her eyes, acutely aware of his presence beside her. The light from his lamp cast shadows across the wall, and the occasional turning of pages marked the passage of time. Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under, into fitful sleep.
She hadn’t expected him to come back tonight. Not after the way he’d left with Vivienne.
The pieces clicked into place with brutal clarity. Damien hadn’t spent the night in their room at all. He had come back briefly – perhaps to keep up appearances for his grandmother – but had later returned to Vivienne.
The mattress dipped as Damien sat on his side of the bed. Elara kept her eyes fixed on the page, though she hadn’t read a single word since he entered.
The perfume. The lipstick mark. The cold, empty bed this morning.
