109 An Evening of Revelations and Solitude
109 An Evening of Revelations and Solitude
I smiled despite myself. Chloe’s loyalty had been my anchor through these difficult.
years.
With a sigh, I set down my book and straightened my silk pajamas. I hadn’t planned to speak with him tonight, but Clara’s birthday gift couldn’t wait. The auction was in just a few days.
I stretched out, relishing the freedom to spread across both sides of the mattress. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, in this quiet moment of solitude, I found myself smiling into the darkness.
Elara’s POV
“Thought you should see this.”
Damien had loosened his tie and was setting his briefcase down in the foyer when I approached. He looked tired, his normally perfect hair slightly disheveled.
By the time I arrived home that evening, it was past eight. Hannah had already put Cora to bed, leaving me a plate of dinner warming in the oven. The house was quiet- no sign of Damien.
He disappeared upstairs without another word, leaving me alone in the kitchen. The conversation had been brief, painless even. No arguments, no coldness, just a simple request and a simple answer.
I ate alone at the kitchen island, scrolling through emails on my tablet. Afterward, I checked on Cora, who was sleeping soundly, clutching the stuffed rabbit Vivienne had given her for her birthday.
After getting dressed, I headed downstairs to find Hannah preparing breakfast for
Cora.
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed eleven times. I remained in the guest bedroom, reading a book but not absorbing a single word. My mind kept drifting to Damien’s study downstairs. I needed to ask him about that invitation.
Damien studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable in the dim kitchen lighting. “And you need my invitation to get in.”
109 An Evening of Revelations and Solitude
I pulled out my phone and texted Chloe: “Got two invitations to the auction. Care to join me?”
The easy acquiescence caught me off guard. “Thank you,” I said, uncertain if I should
say more.
Strange how that knowledge no longer tore at my heart. Instead, as I slipped between the cool sheets of our king–sized bed, I felt an unexpected sense of peace. Tonight, I wouldn’t lie awake listening to Damien’s breathing, wondering if he was dreaming of her. I wouldn’t feel the weight of his presence beside me–so close physically, yet emotionally unreachable.
“The charity auction at the St. Regis this weekend,” I began, leaning against the counter. “I was hoping to attend.”
For the first time in years, Damien’s absence felt not like abandonment, but like freedom.
So much for meetings all day. The board meeting last night had likely been a lie too. Morning arrived with sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. I’d moved back to our shared room after speaking with Damien, but found myself alone when I woke. The other side of the bed remained untouched–he must have slept elsewhere.
“He left early this morning,” Hannah answered before I could. “Said he had meetings all
day.”
He handed me an envelope containing two invitations to the charity auction. Two, not one. I stared at them, momentarily confused.
Damien nodded and moved past me, our shoulders nearly brushing. “Is there anything else?”
–“No,” I replied, watching him head for the stairs. “That’s all.”
I stared at the image, waiting for the familiar stab of pain. It didn’t come. Instead, I felt
a strange detachment, as if I were observing someone else’s life falling apart. Perhaps it was because I’d grown numb to their relationship, or perhaps because I’d finally accepted that Damien would never be mine.
I texted Chloe back: “Thanks for letting me know. Auction is Saturday at 7. Still want to
come?”
109 An Evening of Revelations and Solitude
The doorbell rang just as I was finishing breakfast. Hannah returned moments later with Mr. Finch, Damien’s personal assistant.
In our bedroom, I changed into my nightgown and sat at my vanity, methodically removing my makeup. The clock on the nightstand read 10:45 PM. Damien still wasn’t
home.
Her response was immediate: “Absolutely. I’ll wear something fabulous and we’ll show them all what they’re missing.”
He glanced up, momentarily surprised to see me still awake. “Board meeting ran long.” “Mrs. Thorne,” he greeted me formally. “Mr. Thorne asked me to deliver these to you.” After dropping Cora at school, I immersed myself in work at YodaVision. Julian and I spent most of the day reviewing the progress on our latest AI project, and I welcomed the distraction.
I prepared myself for his dismissal, for some excuse about why it wasn’t possible or convenient. Instead, he shrugged.
He took a long drink before responding. “Why?”
Attached was a screenshot from Vivienne’s Instagram. The photo showed her and Damien at what appeared to be a fireworks festival, his arm casually draped around her shoulders. Both were smiling–Damien with rare relaxation, Vivienne with triumphant happiness.
Of course he did. I sipped my coffee, not bothering to hide my lack of surprise.
Why did that feel so strange?
“Good morning, Mrs. Thorne,” she greeted me. “Would you like some coffee?”
The caption read: “Perfect evening with perfect company. Nothing beats summer fireworks! #datenight #summernights”
Damien opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. “What is it?”
Around four o’clock, my phone buzzed with a message from Chloe. But it wasn’t a response to my invitation.
I examined the embossed invitations–elegant cream cardstock with gold lettering
3/5
109 An Evening of Revelations and Solitude
announcing the Eleventh Annual St. Regis Children’s Hospital Charity Auction. Damien had given me two invitations without my asking. Did he expect me to bring someone? Or was he planning to attend as well?
Posted just thirty minutes ago.
I knew where he was. With Vivienne, undoubtedly. The Instagram post had made that clear enough. They were probably still together, enjoying each other’s company far more than he had ever enjoyed mine.
The latter seemed unlikely. Damien rarely accompanied me to social events unless they directly benefited his business interests.
“Fine. I’ll have Finch deliver it tomorrow.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “Yes.”
“Thank you, Mr. Finch.”
He nodded and left promptly, never one for unnecessary conversation.
I heard the front door open and close downstairs. Damien was finally home. Taking a deep breath, I descended the stairs, my bare feet silent against the plush carpet.
An ordinary explanation for an ordinary absence. How many nights had I waited up like this, hoping for just a few minutes of his attention?
Cora nodded, her mouth full of pancakes. “Where’s Dad?”
The house was quiet as I padded down the hallway. I checked on Cora first, finding her fast asleep, her small face peaceful in the glow of her nightlight. I resisted the urge to smooth her hair back from her forehead, not wanting to wake her.
“I need to ask you something,” I said, following him as he moved toward the kitchen.
“You’re home late,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
“Perfect,” I replied. “I’ll pick you up at 6:30.”
“I want to find a birthday gift for Clara,” I explained. “Something special.”
109 An Evening of Revelations and Solitude
“Yes, please.” I kissed the top of Cora’s head. “Sleep well, sweetheart?”
Tonight, the bed was mine alone. The spacious room felt like a sanctuary rather than a reminder of our failed marriage.
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